Eyelid surgery

In the past nine months, we have grown accustomed to Anya's "wink."  It does, most certainly, look better than this.  For that we are happy, but while we are used to it, many others are not.  Anya gets asked nearly every time she is out in public what happened to her eye.  She is tired of it.  She wants to look normal. We saw a bit of movement back in May, but there has been none since.  So, the time has come to attempt to lift her lid.   Surgery is set for July 5th.

We have had months to contemplate and plan for this surgery.  Most of her surgeries have happened within days of finding out she needed them, with the only exception being her port removal surgery.  Having a date set has brought this surgery out of the realm of possible and into the present.  With this comes a certain amount of dread.  I dread heading back to the OR at Children's Hospital.  I dread having to pretend that playing in the play room is a whole lot of fun, when, in truth, that place makes me sick.  I dread having to tell my daughter that she cannot even have a sip of water if she is thirsty for two hours prior to surgery.  I dread being walked back to the PICU to find her sleeping off the anesthesia whose smell lingers on her body, counting how many times they had to poke her before getting an IV line in, and seeing her eye covered with yet another shield.

Yet through all of that dread, we want this surgery.  This time her life is not on the line, nor her sight.  We have chosen this for her because we think it is best and our hope is that it will make her life easier.  She deserves that, doesn't she?