Central Line OUT!

I took Ruby in for a small outpatient surgery yesterday morning. (I say small because after the little bit of medical stuff we've been exposed to in the last seven months, this surgery could definitely be classified as small.)

We arrived at 8 for a 10AM slot. Ruby was in good spirits, but around 9AM she started signing and asking me for "more" and "eat". Distractions were my friend until about 9:50 when they came and gave her Versed to make her a little drowsy, and a quick breathing treatment to get her lungs nice and clear before she went under. I put her in the bed to be wheeled back just after 10, and away she went. Maybe 15 minutes later the doctor came out to tell me it was done and went as planned. Thirty minutes later she came wheeling down the hall.

Now most people would be a little groggy after waking up from anesthesia. Ruby's been under close to a dozen times and, while she always comes out easy, she usually takes a few minutes to wake back up and shake the cobwebs out. Not this time. She sat up in her bed as soon as they started and waved to everyone they passed. By the time she got to me she was even smiling and lunged right for me. No 'waking up' needed.

That girl.

Stitches were not needed; Ruby just has a bandage over the site which we can take off tomorrow morning. The spot will scab up and that is it. No more central line.

It's a crazy bittersweet thing. As absolutely ecstatic that we are that her 'tubes' (as we called them) are gone, I can't really hate them. As stressful as it was to keep wrapped up behind her so she didn't mess with them, as tedious as it was to always remember which days to flush, when the last time we changed caps, how long it had been since we changed the dressing, that line brought life saving medicine to her. It was hard to watch the nurses suit up in Haz-Mat gear to administer the toxins into her bag, it was surreal to have to glove up whenever we changed her diaper and throw them away in a yellow "POISON" bag, but it's what cleaned her body of the cancer.

But now we will move onto life without the 'tubes'. A life that includes things like baths, water tables, and swimming. A life that allows me to no longer have Ruby wear one-piece clothing every second she is not in my presence, whether that is while she naps or sleeps or while she's at school or church. A kind of 'carefree' life, if you well.