We got Maya in recovery about 10pm. That was ugly as it always is, but not so bad as it can be because they just used gas and there was no procedure other than the MRI and yet another IV insertion. Maya was brave, but this would be hard for an adult--much less a four year old. Uncle Scott showed up to lend his support which was appreciated.
From when she went under to when we saw her again was the longest hour or so that Brandy and I have spent together as the result would be one of three things: a bleed that was continuing to cause damage (which was unlikely), a minor stroke, or nothing at all.
The radiologist read the MRI and the doctor called us to say that there had been a temporary loss of oxygen in a part of the right side of her brain caused by a clot that had since cleared. It probably took place during surgery and once the damage was done, it was done.
On this day, that was great news. We will see the neurologist in the morning to see how extensive he thinks the damage is and what the prognosis is. Right now she has what I would call not quite paralysis--more like extreme weakness--in her left extremeties. There is nothing different about her face, speech, or faculties. She won't use her left hand unless you make her and when she does it is uncoordinated and weak. She can walk, but with a pretty good limp because her left foot is not doing what it should.
So, there it is. We don't know yet what it all means long term. We don't know yet if the damage is permanent or is something that can be rehabbed, but we do know that it is not getting worse and she is going to live. So, when she got all recovered from the anesthesia we sat out in the hall (we have a baby girl roommate and didn't want to wake her) and had dinner with her at 1am or so. She ate a piece of rolled up ham, cheetos, orange soda, and the delicious cream part out of the center of about six mini oreos. If she would've wanted anything in the world she would've gotten it. Brandy and I ate some good stuff Scott brought from Melissa. I guess people walking by thought we were nuts as the whole nursing staff knows that we just found out that Maya had a stroke and we're out there feeding her junk food and cutting up with a four year old four days after open heart surgery. We just had a little party out there and if they didn't like it I think they knew we didn't care and nobody said a word.
We got Maya's teeth brushed and put her down a little after 2am and she's happy as a lark. Right before I laid down she gave me a 'thumbs up,' Gig 'Em that would've made Old Sarge proud along wit a big old smile. She's heard everything that I've written here and is feeling this as well, but if she cares, she sure doesn't show it. She laughed tonight like she does with Rain when they're in the bathtub together and if you've got a heart, she can steal it in about 15 seconds. It's my admiration for her that finally breaks my heart and brings the tears at times like these when no one's looking. I think that whatever challenge this turns into will be met head on with that special moxie she carries around by the bushel and will be overcome with a shrug.
Brandy's laying next to her in her bed and I'm on the same 1967 model fold out chair torture device I slept on last night about 18 inches from Brandy. it's about 3:30 now. I'm wearing the clothes I put on Thursday morning because I slept in the room with Maya last night and it looked like we were heading home today before all this came about.
So, for me, nothing has changed. Maya was sick and is going to get better. Maybe this will take us longer to get over, but it's something we will get over. It's not getting over on us because no matter what, we're in it together: Parker, Rain, Maya, Brandy, and me...plus a whole lot of people out there that care about us and our God that lives in that little girl's giant heart.
Three Road Trips and a Preacher Man
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