Melody's home and safe and sound, although she is missing a few body parts. They cauterized her bleeding nose vessels and removed her tonsils, adenoids, earrings and all the bad words. This last part became necessary when, right before she went into surgery, she told me, "Mommy, this is the worst day of my whole damn life."
She was in a horrific mood when we got there because I made the mistake of waking her up at 3 a.m. to eat her last meal before surgery and she decided that she didn't really need to go back to bed. By the time we got to the surgical center at 11, she was one miserable bunny.
Everything went well, though. When the doctor came out gave us the rundown and then said, "Those were really big tonsils." Uh, yeah. That was kind of my point. She woke up a bit later, ate a popsicle and promptly passed out again.
The surgical center we were at is across the parking lot from the new children's hospital and you get to go through this huge underground tunnel from one place to the other. Along the way they have hidden fairies and dinosaurs to look for.
Staying overnight was a good call because it meant that other people got to do all the nasty stuff to her and clean up all the nasty stuff that came out of her. She was just about to be sent home when she threw up. I was thinking to myself how glad I was that this wasn't my carpet.
She was pretty good through it all, but then freaked out when it was time for the IV to come out. I think she'd just been messed with one too many times that day.