Update – 9:00 a.m.
They came to get Ana from the E.R. at 7:00 a.m. and I walked her into the O.R. at about 7:30 a.m. So, it’s safe to say this is definitely happening. They wouldn’t let me take any pictures in the O.R. (Ana actually wanted me to) – there was this big bowl full of ice water – or what looked like ice water. It was the most surreal thing I’ve every seen – and I’ve visited an actual O.R. three times with Emily.
Ana was very scared. We both were. But she was brave and did what everyone told her to do. They gave her oxygen when I was there and told me not to touch anything draped in blue because it was sterile. So I stood next to her with my hands at my side, afraid to touch her, but wanting to hug her. The anesthesiologist injected something akin to laughing gas into her I.V. and she was giggling madly when they kicked me out. I told her I loved her and I’d see her when she woke up.
Right now, we’re sitting in an O.R. waiting room filled with worn blue arm chairs and not much else. There’s free coffee (I’m on my second cup) and crappy morning television on a small flat screen t.v. We have eight hours to go, at least. So, ironically, I have a ton of time to sit here and ponder what’s going on down the hall (and update the blog, as long as there’s an Internet connection).
The hepatologist (not Dr. Martinez – it’s whoever is on call) told me that she is going to tell us how it’s going throughout the day. Dr. Kato made it clear he won’t be pausing to give us an update which is completely fine with me. So…we wait. I’m anxious – as each hour passes, I know I’ll get more anxious. I’m exhausted, but wired. How can that happen at the same time? My life is full of contradictions. Death = Life. Life = Death. And here I sit, waiting and waiting and waiting to see my baby again.