Yesterday was such an odd day, on so many levels. Capt. SO and I spent about ten hours at a regional hospital with our eldest, whilst she had out-patient surgery on her vocal chords. The surgery went smoothly, as expected. Praise God!
But - yes, there is a but - the day was still a reminder that a hospital is a hospital, no matter whether you are an "out" patient or an "in" patient. This regional hospital is a nationally-known, university-operated, teaching institution associated with a medical school. The level of care is recognized as premier and top-notch and, from our point of view, that is what we observed......if one can pass judgment on what we observed in out-patient surgery. The staff was outwardly friendly, courteous, caring and went out of their way to inform, sooth, "treat" and care for our patient. The surgeon was equally friendly and caring and most definitely went out of his way to inform and reassure our patient about what would be done (before the surgery) and what he did (after the surgery). Family and friends were kept informed and also reassured, on a regular basis, on how our patient was doing. It was a very long day for those of us with our patient and for the patient, herself.
For moi, the most surprising "take-a-way" from the day came when it was time to wheel her away for the procedure. She and I had spent about two hours together, in her little cubby, while multiple medical staff came by to do their pre-surgical "thing". Between staffers, we had the opportunity to chat, giggle, and stay companionably quiet together. The anesthesiologist was one of the medical personnel who came to prep her, inserting the IV needle, and starting the drip of what I assumed was a simple, saline solution. Later, when it was time for surgery, another professional came along and added a drip of some substance that would "chill" her out, prior to the actual anesthetic administered during surgery. One this last "chill" agent was started, it was time for her to be moved out of her cubical and down the hallway to the surgical room.
Mind you, my daughter is an adult woman, yet it was strangely disquieting, disturbing and distressing to see her "taken" away, even though it was by seemingly competent and trained medical staffers. Suddenly, I, her protector for all of those years when she was young and needed protecting, was left standing alone, watching the procession of nurses, bed, daughter, and IV roll in a direction opposite of mine. Granted, this was a relatively simple procedure, yet the pomp and circumstance was the same as all of the other patients she and I had heard go by and been able to view as they, too, were wheeled away to surgery. I wanted to say, "Excuse me, but I should be with her, too!" Of course, I could not and she was in good hands, "Yada, yada, yada."
I'm learning more about this parenting "thing" as my offspring get older. The role of the parent changes - due to age, distance, circumstances, etc., but the instinct to parent never leaves.......kind of like the postal carrier.......Not the dead of night, nor miles between us, right nor wrong, big deal or small deal....I am your parent and will be until my final exhalation.
Ancora imparo
