Post-game snack: Pablo presents a clear and present danger to all Sugar Bear cookies in the vicinity, as evidenced in this photo taken moments after returning from post-op recovery. (Thanks to Mitchell Frank and all at Spaceland Productions for the yummy cookie basket!)
Pablo's out of surgery, safe and sound! The port went in fine (it's the size and thickness of an old skool elevator button). We are now ready for action.
His first round of Chemo will be administered in a couple of hours right here in his room. Only 17 more to go after that! Next week's round will be our first in the Oncology Clinic here at CHLA.
The docs tell us we'll be kicked to the curb (kerb for the UK fans) first thing in the AM.
Two words come to mind when I think of leaving here and taking our precious cargo to his own bed:
Pablo was in surgery for exactly 45 minutes. McDreamy Dr. Stein came into the waiting room to give us the downlow as soon as he scrubbed out. The sweat was still on his brow. It was awesome. Polly (Pablo's nanny), Jo Ann and Elizabeth Ingold (thanks for the yummy lunch!) were all rapt during his post-op rundown. So were the Grady, my bro Dean (just off the plane from Milwaukee) and I–but for different reasons for sure lol!
Since the gist of this posting is simple ("port went in successfully"), I thought I'd lay out some observations on the scene around Childrens Hospital LA.
Those of you who haven't been in a hospital in a while will be surprised to know that things have changed since the '70s and '80s. First, there's this thing called the Internet...you can send letters without stamps. ...OK, I won't go there.
Seriously, the cool thing is that this entire joint is wired with Wifi. The post-op recovery room has these flat-panel TVs that drop down on telescoping arms, so kids can watch TV exactly the way they like it: inches from their eyeballs! (Remember when we were kids–you had to lay on your tummy with your chin in your palms to get this effect. After a good episode of the A-Team, I remember that huuuurrrrrrtin'! At the Walther School, they call that kinda position 'yoga.' Back in tha 8-2 in Milwaukee when I was a kid, it would be yyyyeeaaaarrrrsss before I'd be introduced to the word 'yoga.' When I had a bunch of surgeries as a kid, I'd wake up in the post-op and stare at the ceiling tiles and get high staring at the florescent lights waiting for some cranky nurse to come and slap me to make sure I the anesthesia had worn off.
Anyway, things around here are tricked out. And it's all to make the experience of the kids appropriately distracting. I love it. Can't say enough about the positive energy in this hospital.
From the security guards to the nurses and cleaning staff–people here carry good cheer. And it's contagious.