Grace is fine. She's better than fine. She's great!
And we're finally calmed down after a couple of nervous weeks...
A few weeks ago, we noticed a spot. A lump. We thought it was a cyst. It wouldn't get better, smaller, or go away, so I took her to the pediatrician. Our doctor thought an x-ray would be best. She felt like it wasn't attached to the bone, but it would be wise to check it out and be sure.
So off we went to get the x-ray. Incidentally, radiology found a noncancerous fibroma in the same spot as the lump, but the two aren't related. Their close proximity was purely coincidental. However, the pediatric orthopedist wanted to remove the mass. He called it a mass and scared me half to death that I forgot he called it that. I kept calling it a cyst, and from what I understand cysts are never cancerous. Cyst sounds much less terrifying than mass.
They were able to get her in for surgery in less than a week. We were nervous but felt like there would be some other symptoms if it was truly something serious. That was the sentiment the surgeon left us with, as well. Surely, there would be something else.
The day of surgery, she was fine and enjoying the extra attention. The surgeon came in beforehand to discuss what he would be doing and said, "Once we remove the mass, we will get it straight to pathology to get a better idea what it is. And once we know what we're dealing with, we'll take it from there."
My heart started pounding. It was a cyst. I'd been calling it a cyst. What does he mean, "take it from there?" Deep down, I knew they were checking to make sure it wasn't serious. Of course they were. It's their job, but suddenly, I was scared out of my mind. My thoughts flooded with "what if" scenarios. I was suddenly terrified of what he would come and tell us.
Then, he said, "Don't leave until we get preliminary results. Even if she's awake and feeling better. Stay here until we know what we're dealing with." There were those words again.
So I went back to the OR with her for a moment while they put her to sleep. I held her hand, kissed her cheek, and was escorted to her post-op room. I'm thankful they waited to poke for an IV until after she had gone under. And then, Deron and I waited. We waited and waited for what seemed like forever, but in reality, it was only about an hour. We prayed for Grace. We asked God to be with her, to be with us. We were barely able to talk. We were both scared to voice the fears that grabbed a hold of us.
They rolled her into the post-op room as she began to stir. She had some nausea related to the anesthesia, and she was quite comical coming out of the sleep. She commented on the room changing three or four times. She fell asleep with her eyes open. Now that was creepy. We continued to wait. We continued to watch Grace as she slept off the nausea. We continued to wonder what he would say.
Then, the doctor came in. His first words were, "It was benign! When she feels better, you guys can go home!" I was so relieved and thankful, but it hit me that they were really checking to be sure it wasn't cancer. They were not sure. That was a heavy feeling.
We could have received different news that day. My heart suddenly ached for all the moms and dads waiting and getting very different answers. Our day was a such a blessing and cause for celebration, but for some, it was terrifying and painful. I cannot even begin to say how thankful we are, but we've been blessed. We are very thankful.