Pre-op

On Tuesday, July 31st, I had my pre-operative testing appointment at Phoenix Children's Hospital. This appointment usually consists of:

• blood tests
• EKG (electrocardiogram)
• physical exam
• chest x-ray

Essentially, all the doctors want to know is whether or not your body is healthy enough to endure such an invasive procedure. If you're sick, feel like you're about to be sick, or even if you've had a stuffy nose, the doctors will cancel the operation and re-schedule it for a later date.

I was actually pretty excited for my pre-op testing. I have always had a fascination with hospitals and medicine, and I love to know what's going on and who's doing what. Needless to say, my excitement level was similar to the excitement level a pre-teen girl would have experienced if she had been offered a backstage tour at a Justin Bieber Concert.

We checked in at Admissions and received a little buzzer thing, identical to one that you would get at a restaurant. For several seconds, I was confused as to whether I was waiting for a Dr.'s appointment or waiting in line at the Olive Garden.

My buzzer beeped, my name was called, I signed a few papers and then my mom and I were led upstairs to the surgery floor, where I checked in at another registration desk. I was brought back to an exam room, where I got to stare at miniature cars and cute kid toys all afternoon. When they took my blood, I got an awesome surfing cat Band-Aid. This was the first of many "little things" that indicated that I was the "old fart" at the Children's Hospital.

In addition to the blood tests and exams, I also got to meet an Anesthesiologist, several nurses, a Physician Assistant, and a wonderfully joyful and energetic Nurse Practitioner who actually stayed with us the whole time and guided us through the tests and procedures. She was also able to answer all of our lingering questions regarding the operation and the recovery. At this point, I still hadn't decided whether or not I wanted the surgeon to approach my heart via a sternotomy (breaking my breastbone and retracting it open) or a minimally invasive right thoracotomy (incision under my right breast, putting a retractor through my ribs). After considering an extensive list of pros and cons, I finally decided on the sternotomy approach.

I should have tallied the number of times I was called "pumpkin", "sweet girl" "cutie pie" or any other cutesie name, but alas, I did not. While this type of lexicon exemplified the fact that I was at a hospital whose primary mission is to minister to children that do not already have a college degree, those words were really comforting to hear. I think sometimes we forget that we are all kids at heart, and that we all get scared and need reassurance. Open-heart surgery is scary, no matter if you're 22 hours old or 22 years old. So when the radiology nurse called me "cute girl" for the 7th time in 5 minutes, I wasn't offended, but rather, reassured. It's as if everyone was saying, "It's okay. We are here for you."

The amount of joy and genuine care I experienced during my pre-op testing was so encouraging and reassuring. Although I was still super nervous about the procedure, I felt extremely confident in abilities of my surgical team. Additionally, the caring attitude that radiated from the personalities of every single staff member at the Chidlren's Hospital gave the the extra trust and courage I needed be okay about my surgery. I left my pre-op appointment feeling pretty good, all things considered.

After my appointment, my mother and I ate a "Last Supper" at a local Thai restaurant, and headed to a hotel a few minutes away from the hospital, where lounged at the jacuzzi, relaxed, and then visited with my dad. I went to sleep feeling scared, excited, and anxious for my surgery the next morning.