Trying to Stay Strong

Hi everyone. My goodness, it has been the absolute worse day of my life. But before we go any further, I should let you know that I hope that it remains the worse day of my life.

We arrived this morning at 5:15, checked in and were in the surgery prep area for about an hour or so. Lena was in a pretty good mood considering she was taken out of bed at 4:45. She told me she would do the huggie wrap (blood pressure check) and thing under her tongue (temperature) but then she wanted to go home. She also said Dr. Demonte could look in her head but she didn't want him taking anything out. He wasn't allowed. He could only look.

Man, oh man. She was so brave. She hopped up on the table and just sweetly said goodbye as they wheeled her away to the operating room. They said she did great and wish all patients were like her with her attitude. :)

Surgery began about 8:20 a.m. and we were told to expect approx. 8 hours. We would get updates but not much detail until the end. So we were surprised when a nurse came out and said the doctor was on his way around 1:45.

Dr. Demonte was able to get most of the tumor. However, the tumor had wrapped itself up and around Lena's third nerve and there was not any way to save it. He had to sever the nerve. What this means is that although Lena still has vision in this eye, she has lost all functions relating to this particular nerve which include the dialation of the pupil, movement of the eye and the ability to open her eyelid.

Right now Lena is sleeping. We found out the she is allergic to morphine so the Benadryl given to her has kept her sleepy. Her left eye is closed and beginning to swell. It will continue swelling for the next few days. She has woken up for brief moments and is fairly lucid. She has told me her booboo hurts, that she needs to potty and that she loves me. Hearing her say "I love you Mommy" was probably the only thing that kept me from complete nervous breakdown today.

I know my writing isn't nearly as coherent right now. I just don't know how to describe what we are feeling. I hurt for her, I worry for her and I love her so much that I would give anything and everything to make this not be happening. I don't want to tell her that her eye won't open again. I just don't. I know Britt is already researching this condition and won't even consider that it is permanent but for now and for the foreseeable future, it is. I don't want to face the moment when she realizes that her hair has been cut and shaved. I don't want to be the one who looks in her face when she realizes she has a cut across her forehead from ear to ear. I don't want to see any more pain or fear in my little girl's eyes. But I will. I will hold her hand through each of these events and make sure she knows that she is a beautiful angel. I will hold her when she cries. I will kiss her nose and hug her tight when she is scared. I will tell her everything that she needs to hear and begin to build the confidence in her that at one point my parents had to build in me.

Then I'll go in the next room and cry.

You can't help but walk through the halls of this hospital and not be grateful. There are a multitude of things that we could have found out today that would have been devastating and beyond conmprehension. We're thankful for the good news. The tumor is probably benign and they got most of it all. We will cry for the bad news, take a deep breath and start from this moment to keep going strong.

So, if you hear sobs in my voice either via writing or on the phone, understand that I'm crying when I can so that I can stay strong when it is needed.

We love you and thank you again for your loving thoughts, prayers, messages and support. Talk to you soon.

Love, Holland