Post-Op

From a distance I saw a little girl on a bed being wheeled down the hall. It was Ruthie being taken to her room. I took off leaving Skip at the ATM. Feeling a little bad knowing Skip would turn around and be confused by my sprint down the hall, I turned around and gave him the news. By the time I got to her room, the door was closed. I knocked and was told to wait just a little while so they could get her settled. I could hear her crying. After what seemed like 20 minutes, probably only 5, I was able to enter the room. As the nurse passed she said, "I love a girl who's got some fight". Ruthie was mad and fighting to get every tube OFF. She was lifting her back and crying as hard as I have ever seen her. They told us she was doing the same thing in recovery. It is called casting anxiety. Nothing would console her as all the machines she was hooked up to began to loudly beep. I tried to hold her and that awkwardly worked for about 1 minute. I was afraid to hold her. I was fighting back tears when the pain management nurse walked in and explained that Ruthie would be mad for awhile (who wouldn't be with their legs bent stretched out to the side with a bar holding them firmly apart.). Just in case she added more medicine to her epidural and went and got a big red Radio Flyer wagon, stacked some pillows in it, unhooked some of the monitors and pulled back the blankets covering Ruthie. I cannot describe the hurt when I saw the end of her casts. Her feet are really gone. Anyway, she scooped Ruthie up and told Skip and me to walk the halls with her. I pushed the cart holding the IV bag and the epidural. Skip pulled the wagon and Ruthie very quickly became content. After about 30 minutes of walking, Ruthie fell asleep around 2:30. It is 4:00 and a severe storm is over us right now. Skip and I are waiting for Ruthie to wake up.