We went to Target. We got soft pjs and footy pjs and a big blue robe.
Last time I remember getting these was for a swim team trip. We stayed overnight and all her friends had matching footy pjs. That was fun.
“This is all I’m gonna wear for the next two weeks,” my daughter says.
“Is there anything else you want. Drinks or snacks?” I ask.
“No, I don’t know what I’m gonna want,” she says.
True, I think. I don’t know either.
She’s having knee surgery today, 11:15. The surgery itself is said to be routine. Not a difficult one to do.
It’s what comes next that’s unknown. We know in theory. A special icing and heating machine and a post operative brace is going to meet us at the hospital. Another passive movement machine will be delivered at home in the afternoon. Reminds me of when she was born. She was jaundiced and had to be in a special little lighted “suitcase”. Another machine to help you heal. Similar and different.
These machines mark the beginning of her rehabilitation that is said to take six months.
“I’ll be good for summer,” she tells me.
I tell her of all of the swimmers I know who have come back strong from surgery. “Being injured is a part of being an athlete,” I tell her. “You’ll come back stronger than before.”
She acts convinced and I’m grateful for that.
We’re lucky. The surgery happens over break, so she won’t miss school. She’s healthy and strong, and we have health insurance to help pay for it. We’re lucky.
We’re also quietly nervous. “That’s normal,” my husband says.
Yep, I’m normal nervous right now.
Her friends are busy texting her.
My friends are texting me. We’re all a little nervous. It’s normal.
“Wake me up at 7:45, I’m gonna take a long shower in the morning,” she says.
Ok. Good night honey.
Good night, love you Mom.
Love you too, baby.
It’s 5:30, and she’s sleeping beside me. Taking up the space where my husband was a half hour ago. This is not usual.
I move to the kitchen, and make coffee. I worry about tomorrow at this time. Will it be as will be peaceful?
I’m nervous. It’s normal.