Tomorrow, bright and blurry, after many hours without food (her, not me. I can eat if I choose), we take baby Amelia in for an MRV. An MRV, for those gloriously unaware, is an MRI of the venous system. Our new neurosurgeon would prefer if, before opening up my daughter’s head, he knew where the blood flow was.

It’s all well and good, and shit, I’m glad he’s thorough about the whole situation, because how much would that suck if he weren’t? Answer: a fucking ton.

Afterwards, sedated baby or no (the sedation is the optional part, thankfully. Although it’s not optional for moi, who plans to experience better living through chemistry from the moment I wake up tomorrow until we’re back home) we meet with the surgeon one final time before her surgery on the 26th of the month. This displeases me nearly as much as Amelia being NPO for the MRV does.

See, now, I really hearted my first neurosurgeon who made me feel like this situation, although not idea, was going to be just fine. Sadly, my insurance doesn’t pay him what he deserves, so he’s forced to not take it. Hence, neuro #2. Who, I was correctly warned by neuro #1, has a deplorable bedside manner. He’s not gruff or mean or even all doomsday on us, he’s just very matter-of-fact.

He’s straight, to the point, and easily the cockiest person I’ve met. Which, if you know my friends, is saying a hell of a lot. I’ve been trying to tell myself that I’d rather have a talented and cocky surgeon than the alternative, but I wish I didn’t have to deal with the guy. But if I were to request another surgeon, a third neuro, it would likely be someone that Cocky Neuro #2 trained. So, I’ll take him and his attitude and medicate the shit out of myself so I don’t get hysterical in his office. Again.

Shit, this time I’m prepared. I even packed my OWN KLEENEX in the diaper bag! I’m slowly turning into an old lady who carries around tissues! I remember being completely squigged out when my mother used to use my coats because I’d always get them back with used tissues and plastic baggies in the pockets. I don’t know if she used the tissues for her nose or her eyes (sincerely hope it was her eyes. Because, ew) but it always annoyed me to no end. It just seemed…rude.

But that’s who this whole brain thing has turned me into: an old lady who cries at everything and shoves Kleenex up her sleeves so as to not snot all over other people. I was okay with the grey hairs I’ve gotten steadily more of since Ben was born, but this development? Not so much.

If you happen to be in the Same Day Surgery wing tomorrow, and you see a red, puffy-eyed haggard looking broad with a baby seat and a econo box of Puffs, come and pull up a chair, I’m not catching. I’ll even share my Valium with you.

Comments = full of the awesome. Like gravy. I can haz an RSS RSS feed .

43 Responses to Suddenly, The Grey Hairs Seem Almost Cute.

  • Rachel says:

    I won’t be on the same wing, but I will be saying prayers for your little girl. Hang in there, I know how awful that waiting is.

  • Nanny Garcia says:

    Let me know if you need more drugs. I’m a willing supplier of mothers and nannies everywhere, no insurance needed.

  • tash says:

    Oh hon. Thinking of you all, and I just know Mr. McCockypants will be fucking amazing. Maybe not at making you feel like you’re hanging out at Happy Hour, but amazing nevertheless.

    Call me if you want to feel like you’re hanging at happy hour.

  • If I could be there to calm your fears and take the edge off, I’d do it in one second flat…
    and of course, I would w/o question accept the valium..as long as I could bum a ride home w/ you and bunk on your couch.
    I promise I’m funny and I would entertain the kids..and even The Daver.
    I have never taken the Valium before, so I would be in no condition to drive back to Pa..

    ((hugs)) Aunt Becky..it will all be OK and back to normal in no time…

  • a says:

    I hope he’s cocky for a reason…

    Good luck – we’re praying for you and Amelia.

  • baseballmom says:

    We saw a neurosurgeon because t’s head was too flat in the back and wasn’t rounding out quickly, and he was very cocky too, in fact, he took one look at the x-rays and said, “Now, why are you here again?” Everyone I talked to had the correct attitude, that, in order to BE a surgeon who operated on peoples’ brains, you must really have a LOT of confidence…so I think it’s a good thing!

  • Kyddryn says:

    What can I do to help you through this, sugar?

    Hugs, hugs, many, many hugs…

    Shade and Sweetwater,
    K

  • Jenn says:

    Valium? I’m there.
    Okay, maybe not but I will be there in spirit. xoxo

  • heather says:

    I hope you and Amelia don’t remember a thing about tomorrow. Dr. Cocky will be amazing; cocky and amazing go together like vodka and, well, you. You and your wee one will be in my thoughts and prayers tomorrow.

  • kalakly says:

    I’d sit with you even if you didn’t have valium. I’ll be there is spirit and you know how and where to find me if you need more of me than just my gassy spiritness….

    I was going to write something tacky about how I hear big cocks are good for head but it just seemed out of place, yes?

    xxoo

  • The Notorious BEX
    Twitter: mommywantsvodka
    says:

    Any sort of mind-altering thingamies are more than welcome. Except Viagra. Because really now, what’s the point?

  • Sara says:

    Lots of love and prayers for tomorrow.

    You know I’d be there Valium or not if I could!

  • Jenn says:

    The cockier the better as far as neurosurgeons go, IMO. They are almost all like that. And they tend to be a bit dramatic even when they are in perfect control. Not that it helps.

    Get the Puffs with lotion.

  • Heather P. says:

    Prayers coming your way!
    (((HUGS)))

  • Chibi Jeebs says:

    Sending so much love and force and virtual hand holding I can muster. I’ll be thinking about you guys tomorrow.

    *hugs*

  • Donna says:

    Ditto what everyone else says I’d be there tomorrow if I could, but instead in spirit and pray Amelia’s not too unhappy not getting the boobie poor babe, but it’ll be over quick and you and her can snuggle and not let the cocky doc make you nervous. Lighting a candle for you.

  • Lola says:

    Having met more cocky docs than I care to think about at work, I’ve come to appreciate them and would seek them out in a minute. Warm and fuzzy ones freak me out more than the GOD-complexed asses do at this point. If you have the balls to operate on brains and hearts, you should be a bit cocky!

    Of course, that does not make them any easier to deal with, so valium, valium, valium, unless you can score some mainline Demerol by faking some kind of excruciating stomach pain or something.

    I’ll be thinking of you guys with my titties crossed!

  • swirl girl says:

    there with you over the inter-waves…{hugs}

  • Danielle says:

    If only I didn’t live on the other side of the continent! I’ll be thinking positive thoughts for you and Amelia. Tissues and Valium seem like the perfect combo for a day like tomorrow….HUGS!

  • ewe_are_here says:

    It’s not the same, I know… but back when I was facing major surgery for a shattered elbow, the Chief of orthopedics told me he wanted me to talk to another orthopedic surgeon who would be assisting him for his point of view. I was warned his bedside manner was also crappy… much like Neuro 2 you describe. And it was. He didn’t agree entirely with the Chief, and he made me cry. But the Chief told me later when I cried to him about it that if they had to go in and put all kinds of hardware into my arm, that was the guy he wanted with him, and so did I. Because he was one of the very best.

    I’m glad you can see through the crappy bedside manner… sadly, such lessons are lacking in medschool training, as you can see it in so many surgeons.

    I’ll be thinking of you.

  • Kelley says:

    will be thinking of you. I have dealt with far too many neuros in my time and have yet to meet one with a personality.

    That first guy must have been an abomination. Or the janitor.

    hugs babe.

  • Betty M says:

    Yup the first guy was the exception for a neuro – cocky b’startds desn’ begin to describe them. Thinking lots of good thoughts for both of your girls.

  • birdpress says:

    Good luck!

  • Madame Yu See says:

    Amelia is going to be in a foul mood, going without food for so many hours. Maybe they’ll give her some baby dose I.V. valium, too. And some earplugs.
    Think positive thoughts, it will all turn out OK.

  • heather says:

    You’ll get through this, Amelia will get through this, and then the tissues will be drying tears of happiness.

  • quietgirl says:

    I’m not a mommy but I feel your pain. Valium and deep breathes. Then repeat. Think positive okay-it’s a mistake to do the opposite. This will be OKAY and you will look back on it as an experience that made you (tragically- but such is life) tough as nails and made your daughter not only healthy but the most unconditionally loved little baby ever. This will make you stronger, and happier. Let go of the stress however you can.

    Our hearts are with you. You aren’t alone! :)

  • Kendra says:

    Oh, sweet Amelia! I am totally the person who would need my hand held just so throughout this entire ordeal, and a surgeon with a crappy bedside manner would reduce me to tears at least daily. I realize that it doesn’t affect their ability to do their job, but it’s awfully hard on those of us on the receiving end of the attitude!

    I’m glad he’s good at his job and that he’s being so thorough. I just wish this were all over, already. I’ll be thinking of you today and every day until your sweet baby is on the mend.

  • Calliope says:

    Look- this girl is YOUR daughter. That means that she is genetically wired to be tough as shit and kick ass awesome. I hate that you guys are going through this. Hate it to my core. I told the Universe to quit fucking with you- pumped my fist up into the sky and demanded it, actually. I am thinking of you and wish I could be with you to hold your hand and help you through.
    xo

  • kim says:

    just pretend that I’m there, slipping you the flask full of whiskey while you are slipping me the Val.

    I’ll be praying, and waiting to hear the wonderful news….

    xoxo

  • Eva says:

    Best wishes. I’ve heard good things about Valium. And cocky neurosurgeons.

  • deb says:

    I wish I could be there Aunt Becky. Just to be a shoulder if needed.
    Stay strong. {{HUGS}}

  • Kristine says:

    I will be there with you in spirit.

    Cocky and talented is definitely the way to go, if the alternative is less cocky but less talented.

  • I’m going to go with the thought that the doctor is so cocky because he’s awesome. I know it doesn’t calm your nerves or take away your stress, but I hope knowing so many of us our out here in the world thinking of and praying for your family does.

  • kbrients says:

    BEd side manner is nice, but you want the best even if he is cocky right? She will do great… and as long as you have your box of kleenex… you will make it…. I am thinking about you….

  • g says:

    Oh girl, I am here holding your snot covered hand. I will even share the kleenex I have stuffed up my sweater sleeve.

    xo

  • Cari says:

    I’ll admit that my extensive knowledge of medical professionals is gleaned almost entirely from my addiction to Grey’s Anatomy, but having never missed an episode, I’m sure I’m qualified to offer this nugget of truth in the hopes it might bring some small comfort.

    It seems that doctors with all the bedside manner of, say, a stinky shoe, (Hahn, Yang) are exceptional surgeons, while those with warm, syrupy, empathetic personalities (Izzy), make frequent mistakes. So, according to this well-thought-out and scientifically based discovery, your daughter is in the best possible hands, even though those hands are unfortunately attached to a crappy personalilty! In any case, you and your little sweetie are in my prayers.

  • Stacey says:

    I wish I could be there to sit with you. Good luck & lots of prayers

  • Here with ya all the way, babe.

  • hopefully this will all soon be behind you

  • JP says:

    It’s probably all said and done now, but either way – I’m thinking of your family today. I hope it all went well and that your baby girl got to eat very quickly after the MRV. :)

  • Ann says:

    You have no idea how badly I wish I could come sit with you. I’d bring brownies. godspeed girl. xo.

  • Badass Geek says:

    You bring the Valium, I’ll bring the booze.

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