Before and after.

I don't have a good caption. I'll just say I'd rather never do this again.

Home, kinda.

We're free!

We got discharged from the hospital this morning shortly after 9:00. I would talk about how excited everyone is, but, really...it's impossible to tell because nobody has any energy. Emily is obviously limited by her spica cast so she's still annoyed with the universe. Kate dropped us off at the timeshare before running off to pick up supplies for our remaining time here in Florida. I really don't know how she has the capacity to keep going. This is the longest she's been out of the hospital since we walked in there Thursday morning (she's been gone 90 minutes as of right now) and that's really saying something. Hopefully she'll be back soon and can get some sleep in an actual bed. Or at least a shower.

Perhaps an update on the kid, then? After getting her epidural removed yesterday, her temperature dropped almost immediately. She now sits at a comfortable 98.1 degrees (she apparently runs cool.) Although not everything went so well. During the night, her IV blew which caused her arm to swell and some obvious discomfort for our girl. However, I think getting in the stroller and saying goodbye to the hospital and multiple daily visits from the nurses eases most of that pain.

For now, she is sleeping propped up in a chair with her blanky and puppy, still wearing her hospital gown.

Getting closer all the time.

I think it's Saturday...

During the summer of 2001, I was lifeguarding at a local country club. I was 26 years old, in grad school and about to become a teacher. In other words, experienced enough to know what I was doing but old enough to know better. Hang out by the pool all day, out just about every night. It was one of the most fun summers I've ever had.

One night, we wandered into our local hangout and noticed the lack of customers. I turned to the bouncer and said, "kinda dead in here for a Friday."

The bouncer looked at me sideways.

"Tim...it's Tuesday."

Right.

Take away the good times and sweet tan and that's pretty much how I'm feeling right now. Rarely without a coffee in hand, sore from sleeping on that damn recliner and just looking for excuses to get up and wander the hospital.

Kate, on the other hand, continues to play Atlas. She is unflappable. Helping every nurse without overstepping, never more than an arm's length from Emily...I am amazed by her more and more. I keep trying to push her out of the room...but she just...stays.

While she's keeping everyone on the same page, I worry about when she's finally going to let go. I have a feeling it will all come out at the most bizarre time. Three weeks from now, I'll put a spatula in the wrong drawer and she'll choke me into submission. And really...what jury would convict her?

Ems is slowly coming around. The fever finally got below 101 today. Kim, the AP on call this weekend, came through to check on the incision (looking good) and to take out the catheter and epidural. Everything appears to be ok which is obviously good. Now, if we can just get her to start eating. Looks like Emily will be dropping some of that baby fat she's been talking about. A little late for beach season, sweetness!

But she is being such a trooper. She flips out anytime a nurse enters the room, knowing they're going to be poking or prodding or basically making her a little more uncomfortable, even for just a few seconds. Thank god she doesn't have daddy's vocabulary. It would get SO inappropriate in that room...

Hopefully getting out of here tomorrow. Will continue to keep you posted with anything new.

Day two.

And I thought I was tapped yesterday.

Nothing quite like a good night's sleep on a reclining hospital chair to really take the edge off. Although I can honestly say after yesterday's activities, I probably could have slept on hot coals and just would have dreamed blissfully about barbecue. Kate snuggled up next to Ems in bed and managed a little sleep, but she's still in nurse mode so that's no easy task. I still haven't seen her break down, although I'm sure it's coming. Nobody's that good. Not even the Fonz! Wait, what?

Anyway, we made a step towards normalcy today. I managed to get out of the hospital and shoot back to the timeshare for a shower, some fresh clothes and a deep breath of non-hospital air. Kate even stepped out for an hour to go to Target which I'm sure was oddly refreshing for her.

Emily continues to be pretty mellow. She's had a constant fever of about 101 and her hemoglobin count was low which required a blood transfusion, but nobody seems too thrown off by this so that works for me. The company line is this is very standard stuff for second day after surgery. Basically, whenever the nurses come in and start saying anything medical, I just gauge Kate's reaction. If she visibly tenses up, I know to be concerned. So far, so good.

It's been helpful to have such a great nursing staff with us the last two days. All three nurses we've had have been friendly and professional. Granted, I could be easily fooled (if they're nice to Emily, I figure they're doing the job...I know, way to set the bar high) but Kate has said repeatedly how good they are. As always, if she's happy, everyone's happy.

Except maybe Emily. It wasn't until about 2:00 that we started to see flashes of the kid we know. Before then, she would wake up briefly, cry, try and push the cast off and just repeatedly say she wanted to get down. Since then, she's pointed to the TV (Sesame Street DVDs) quietly naming the characters and generally started to look a little more together. Kate had said she should get a charge of energy after the blood transfusion. Great. Here come the accusations of doping and the eventual attempt to take away her Tour De France wins. Who are we talking about again?

Our friends the Estrins stopped by briefly (Mariel had her superhip just last week) and everybody looked great. Mariel handled her surgery like a champ and was apparently really giving it to every staff member who came in the room ("I don't like her! I don't want you here!") which is even funnier when you know how nice her parents are and what a cutie she is. Turn up the heat, kid!

So that's where we are. A dramatic improvement from 24 hours ago. As I understand it, things should continue to improve each day. Let's hope so.

Again, thanks to everyone for the continued support. It has been literally non-stop. I'd probably be completely overwhelmed if I wasn't so freakin' tired. If I ever seem unappreciative, feel free to remind me.

All systems go. UPDATED - 7:25

We arrived at the hospital shortly after 6 AM and were taken into pre-op at about 6:30. I was able to hang on to her for a good amount of time while our nurse did all the pre-game testing/paperwork. Afterwards we put her on a bed and all sat to watch the latest Wallace and Gromit selection while we waited for the call.

Around 8:00, Emily gowned up and we attempted to slip her some pre-anesthesia sleep juice (really? You expect me to remember the name of the drug right now? Shame on you.) She wore more than she drank but she got just enough to get good and loopy. Still, she was getting antsy after another 15 minutes and clearly wanted to be anywhere else. A coloring book saved the day and she was still on her belly coloring away when they wheeled her to the OR. Kate got to put on her own biohazard outfit as well and went back with her while I was sent back to the waiting room (after taking a few minutes to attempt to compose myself in the hallway, I trudged back into the lobby to get some coffee...within SECONDS of walking through the door, I hear a "hey, wow, man...you play basketball?" Seriously? Right now? I'm thinking on a day like today, I should be legally allowed to choke this person. I'm writing my congressman.)

Kate came out a few minutes later and looked great. She was very proud of her little girl. Apparently, everyone agreed she did really well...right up until it was time to put the mask on her. She fought it for the whole two seconds it took to put her out.

Thanks again to all the staff who were professional and courteous in the time leading up to surgery. Especially my man Servando, the physician's assistant who not only colored with Emily on the operating table, he offered his cell phone number to be used 24 hours a day if we needed anything. Either he's really good at his job, is trying to win that Team Paley bet we discussed last night or I am making this cargo shorts/hooded sweatshirt ensemble WORK.

UPDATE - 9:18 - Dr. Paley just came out and gave us a wave saying they're going to start in about five minutes. Buckle up, kids.

UPDATE - 10:37 - Servando just stopped by to check on us. He is not in the OR with Emily (he's working on another case) but is in contact with the team and "through signs and body language" things are going well. Caroline should be coming out to talk to us soon.

UPDATE - 11:09 - Caroline checked in and said the word from The Man is that things are going "great." No surprises, for good or ill and he should be finished in about 90 minutes. We still won't be able to see her for about three hours, but we're making headway.

UPDATE - 12:28 - Found out our final post-op appointment with Paley will be on Thursday, not Friday. The thought of hanging out until Kate's Saturday evening flight got even less attractive, so we called the airline and attempted to make a switch. The customer service rep initially balked, saying it would cost an additional $180 per ticket. However, after talking about WHY we're down here, she knocked it down to $60 total. Done and done. Thanks, Delta!

UPDATE - 1:06 - Nothing new to report. It's brutal watching the "staff only" door open only to have it be no one we're interested in seeing. Starting to numb up a bit.

UPDATE - 1:26 - Paley just came out and talked to us. Everything looks "beautiful." He said the only part that was a bit abnormal was the need to shave some bone where the femoral head connects to the pelvis to promote a more natural range of motion. She's being closed up right now after which she'll be casted, they'll take more x-rays and moved to recovery.

Getting closer!!

UPDATE - 3:10 - We were just moved to a different waiting room. Should be able to see her anytime now.

UPDATE - 3:17 - Kim, another top notch physician's assistant, just came out to tell us "the epidural must be working" because Emily is awake, looking around and just smiling. That's our girl!

UPDATE - 7:25 - Well, I'M tapped.

We finally got called into the recovery room at about 4:20 and Ems looked pretty beat up. She was a little swollen and pale and would wake up only briefly. When she did, it was like she was trying to cry but it took too much effort, so she just went back to sleep. We sat next to her for about an hour (the LONGEST hour all day...and that's saying something) before they got her ready to move up to her room. When it was time to roll, we gave her blanky and puppy...but it was the binky that finally got a smile. Once that binky was in her mouth, she lit up, looked at us and said, "Hi Mommy! Hi Daddy!" Like crack, that binky.

We got situated in her room and just kinda sat. The room is a little bare and we're on the sunny side, but I was more than happy to get out of that recovery room. Too many wires, too many people, too many bells and whistles...just too hospital-y. It's a little calmer now.

Paley stopped by a little before 7:00, gave her a once over and a thumbs up before moving on to examine more of his craftsmanship. Jennifer, the PA who closed Emily up after surgery also stopped by and gushed about how great our girl was going into the OR. When she left, Kate turned to me and simply said, "I like her." Agreed.

Since getting to her room, Emily has been out for the most part. The epidural is humming and pain meds are at the ready. Kate and I were catching up on texts/phone calls before I figured I should put a wrap on this for the day. Unfortunately, that meant leaving the room for the wi-fi connection in the 24-hour coffee shop they have here. The most unfortunate part? Now having to navigate my way back. I hope to see the ladies again before Ems is discharged on Sunday.

I'm just so thankful for the support today. A lot of people checked in by text, phone call, e-mail, blog comments...and that's on top of the people who were physically here for us today. Most importantly, thank God I married Kate. She so easily switched back and forth from mom to nurse that I don't think I ever saw her where she didn't appear to be in complete control. I, on the other hand, was a puddle most of the day. Not my manliest performance. Uh...I don't have a redeeming joke here. Shut it.

So that's it for today. I'll be sure to keep you in the loop in the coming days. Thanks for keeping up with us. We all did it together!

The clock is ticking...

Again, I don't have a ton of jokes or quote-worthy material to post tonight. It's been a long, exhausting day. Emily showed her two-year-old-ness like a champ during her pre-op, absolutely refusing to let the nurse take her blood pressure, maintaining a zen-like calm while they drew blood from her arm and then requiring three adults to hold her down while they took x-rays. If her head fully spins around, I'm out. Dr. Paley's on his own.

Team Paley once again showed why people travel from all over the globe to see them. The staff could not have been any nicer or more helpful. We were in the hospital from 11 AM until about 2 PM, took a brief break for lunch (Sonic!!) and then back for more meetings, pictures and Paley-ness until about 5:30. While it was a difficult day mentally, it obviously could have been far, far worse. Some brief notes from today's activities...

-Kate and I get to decide which one of us wants to go into the operating room with Emily and anesthetize her. Oh, and it's helpful if she starts crying, because she breathes harder and falls asleep faster. How's YOUR day going to start tomorrow? Got a tough day at the office? F--k off.

-We're looking at close to seven hours worth of surgery and surgery-related goodness tomorrow. 90 minutes for prep, three hours for the procedure, an hour to cast and another hour for her to come out of her haze.

-Met a pair of moms (one from Michigan, one from Utah) who are here with their sons for lengthenings. Both were extraordinarily friendly and talked about the community that exists around the hospital making things so much easier as everybody has somebody to lean on. Comforting, to say the least.

-At one point, one of the moms talked about Paley's ability to remember each child and even their specific interests. Caroline Eaton, who was in on the conversation, chimes in, "the really amazing thing is that he can look at x-rays and recognize the kids by their femurs!" I am NOT making that up.

-Caroline led off one of our meetings today warning me to not post any photos of Ems in her spica cast. Apparently, after a few conversations with the FBI, she found out there's some pervs out there who are into that sort of thing...ifyaknowwhatImean. I WISH I were making that up.

-In the final, self-serving note of the evening, Caroline mentioned Paley's weekly meeting with his team where he presents upcoming cases. In front of about 40 people, he read directly from The Gray Area while discussing Emily. Allegedly, there are now bets being placed as to which staff member will be mentioned in future posts. And if you think I'm not immature enough to somehow use this to our advantage...well, then you clearly have not been paying attention. Having said that, nothing makes sleeping in a reclining hospital chair easier than a nice fleece blanket. Ahem.

Anyway, the last supper is finished. Emily is watching Kung-Fu Panda (I know...I'm shocked too) blissfully unaware of what awaits her. Kate and I hope to get SOME sleep before walking through the hospital doors at 6 AM. But I wouldn't bet on that.

I'll have the laptop with me tomorrow and will try and give some updates throughout the day. If you know anybody upstairs with any pull, put in a good word for us. We'll take all the help we can get.

The waiting game.

I'm running out of clever intros and witty banter so I'm just going to put out the nuts and bolts and let you throw in your own fart jokes where they seem appropriate.

We flew in from the Dominican (which was a BLAST) on Sunday, landing at JFK around 4:30, met up with Kate's parents in long term parking where we collected Emily and some bags and got on the road. We wanted to make it to South Carolina where we had friends waiting for us, but by 1 AM, everybody was struggling, so we shut it down just south of Richmond, Virginia.

Back on the dusty trail by 10 AM, we made it to West Palm Beach by 11 PM with ONE STOP. That, my friends, is impressive. Emily was a trooper and had about the same amount of meltdowns as Mommy and Daddy. (I figure she's allowed. Imagine how bad it could have been if she was aware she spent her second birthday in the car.) Kate took the first six hours then, after a delicious Cracker Barrel meal, hopped in the back with Emily where they watched movies on the DVD player while I finished the run. Safe to say I could have slept on a bed of nails last night and still would have hit the snooze button.

Today was a low-key, mellow day. Cloudy and rainy outside, so not a lot to do. Grocery shopping and dinner out. Right now, I'm in the lobby (with the wi-fi connection) while Kate valiantly attemps to strap Emily down after she finished a bottle of lemonade at dinner tonight (we go away for five days and now she doesn't drink milk anymore? Me and the grandparents are having words...)

Tomorrow we head to St. Mary's for an 11 AM pre-op with the hospital staff and then another appointment with Dr. Paley and his people. Then, back home for more waiting. Thursday morning is D-Day. Time is grinding to a damn halt at this point.

There is definitely some tension around the room. Everyone is trying to put on their happy game faces (except Emily who just goes with whatever mood strikes her. God, I want to be two years old.)

Don't know what else to tell you. Will have more tomorrow after the visit with Paley.

Does she look worried?

Seriously...is that the face/body language of somebody who is concerned about the major reconstructive surgery she is about to undergo in just a few weeks? I think not. Luckily, her parents are doing all the stressing for her.

And I don't even think we're doing that bad (I'm sure my blushing bride would disagree with me on that.) You know, let's just set a rule right now. I will only refer to myself and my feelings regarding any events in the coming weeks. I will not speak for my wife or make any attempt to interpret her thoughts or stress level. It's 12:30 at night and I just don't feel like getting choked. Besides, if I made an abrupt shift from the hard-driving, self-centered, narcissistic direction this blog has been taking the past 23 months, what would that say about me? And don't you even say anything about maturity...I won't stand for that kind of talk!

Ok. So, in exactly two weeks, Kate and I will hopefully be getting a few minutes of sleep before waking up in the wee hours to catch a flight to the Dominican Republic where we will party like it's 1999 as our good friends Cory and Vicki tie the knot. Shortly after the nuptials, we'll jet back to the states, land at JFK, locate Kate's parents in the airport parking lot, grab Emily, some bags, some snacks, pack the car and start the drive to West Palm Beach.

Tired yet? I am.

But I'm not nervous.

I'm not. I don't know why. It goes against everything I stand for. I am not a cool guy. I'm anxious. I'm pessimistic. I try and cover it up with humor and sarcasm, which, on occasion, I have probably taken too far. (Uh-huh...go ahead, people-who-know-me. Roll your eyes.)

Anyway, this isn't completely honest. I have some idea why I'm not nervous. I've met Dr. Paley. I've listened to past patients speak glowingly of him as if he were a mythical character...consuming his enemies with fireballs from his eyes and bolts of lightning from his arse(come on, movie folks...name the film. I'll give you a hint...the actor is having a really bad couple of weeks.)

And I've watched my daughter grow.

That's probably where I'll run into problems.

I really do believe Dr. Paley when he looks me in the eye and tells me he'll get my daughter's legs to equal length. I trust him with everything I have. He has the knowledge, the ability, the resources and countless people behind him nodding along in agreement. That works for me.

Where I will get myself in trouble is looking at Emily as she does her various Emily things, with or without her shoe lift, having almost no issues navigating her way up, over, around whatever stands in her way...and thinking those amazing, fantasy, what-if-we-won-powerball kind of thoughts.

"Maybe her femur has been growing more than we thought...what if we don't need four surgeries?"

"Her hip and leg look great. There won't be any complications whatsoever."

"I'm sure she'll do fine in the hospital. She's a tough kid. She can handle it."

"She's two years old. Of course she can handle a drive from New York to Florida."

And so on.

Of course, most of you recognize that this is spoken as a parent who just doesn't want anything bad for his child and can therefore manage to concoct these borderline-fantasy scenarios in an attempt to drown out any negative thoughts despite the overwhelming evidence that, although this will eventually be fine, the process itself will be, at times, a complete shitstorm.

Where does that leave us? Same spot as when I started this. Sitting at the kitchen table. Finishing another beer. A couple hours closer to August 12th. But still not nervous.

Ok. That's not completely true either. I'm a little nervous. I suppose finally confronting the demons will do that. We're past the canned talking points brought out during brief conversations with fake smiles and practiced confidence. It's late July. This is no longer something way off in the future. It's not something to think about later. It's real. It's happening.

So, if you all will allow me, I'm going to need a moment with my man here...

Dr. Paley...throughout my life, I have been extraordinarily fortunate to be surrounded by people who care about me. I've been handed opportunities that a lot of people don't get. I wish I could say I've always done my best or that I've always been fair and honest and polite, but that wouldn't be accurate.

I have been blessed with the most perfect little girl. She's smart and fun and beautiful. Sure, she's becoming a feisty two-year old who throws random fits and firmly declares, "NO CUBBIES!" when I want to watch my team play. It just shows she's probably smarter than me.

This kid...she doesn't know it yet, but she needs you. I need you. We need you. We need you to do what it is you do. We need you to do what no one else can do as well as you.

Please.

Our people.

For those who have been loyal followers of this blog, you know I started this partially out of laziness as well as a not-so-subconscious need for intense therapy. What I did not count on was literally a worldwide audience as well as the opportunity to meet and interact with so many amazing people. Thankfully, my wife and Chief Photographer is much better at corresponding (you see how often I update this thing) and has managed to maintain relationships with people who are experiencing the very same thing we are. They share stories, pictures, advice and anything else which may be even remotely helpful.

Recently, we were fortunate enough to get into contact with the Estrin family of Norwalk, Connecticut. Mary and her husband Dan are followers of The Gray Area and asked us to get in touch. We met up at the Beardsley Zoo in Bridgeport and became fast friends. The Tredwell Ladies have met up with the Estrin Ladies a couple times now to go to interactive, kid-friendly, touch-and-learn-as-you-go, germ factories or whateverthehell you call these places. If nothing else, it makes for good picture-taking.

Young Mariel is about four months older than Emily and just slightly ahead of us on the journey through Paleyland. She'll be in West Palm Beach for her Superhip just a couple weeks before we will.

Our thoughts are with you guys. We all know you're in good hands.

A little something for now.

Exactly five weeks from right now we'll be in West Palm Beach, making a feeble attempt to mentally prepare for Emily's Superhip surgery the next day. Having said that, know that I'm working on a long, incoherent, rambling post where I will try and make some sense of what's knocking around in my head. I make no promises regarding quality or amount of humor/entertainment. Just that it will be...oh, I don't know...honest? How about that? I've said it before...you get what you pay for around here.

In the meantime, enjoy these recent pictures. I'll be back soon.