Moms and daughter are knackered

While I will not dispute the fact that our munchkin was a little trooper yesterday and basically sailed into the operating theatre all smiles (which quickly faded thanks to a nitwit anaesthesiologist), she does have a tendency to milk any injuries, however minute, to the maximum.

Not much different this time: the bambi eyes are there, all brown and chocolatey, fringed with enormous dark lashes; the wan little crooked smile, the head slightly perched to the right...

But I understand her pain. I was summoned to the recovery room approx. 50 minutes after she went in. I could hear her moaning from the hallway, poor mite. There was some blood on her clothes and in her nose, and she was livid. Angry beyond compare... stamping her feet, tossing in the bed. I held her close, warm against my body, her cheeks red from the sleep-inducing syrup they gave her before the operation. At times, she would stretch her whole body rigid and scream. Not from pain, mind, but from anger at being handled in such a way.

By 2 p.m., after a good sleep, she was allowed an ice cream. And then, after a quick visit with the surgeon, she was on her way home, a little wan but holding the 2-foot balloon she'd been promised.

After some soup, we put her to bed and then we simply crashed. We'd both been up since 6 a.m. and it was too much. Even our delicious sashimi dinner didn't help. By ten the munchkin was complaining again, so we just decided to go to sleep, only to be woken up by a monster storm at 1 and the munchkin again at 2.

This morning, things are still standing at 50% and I've now rung up the surgeon, since she's complaining about a headache. Poor, little brave mite of mine.

On the upside, her hearing has already improved massively, given her response to the tolling of the church bell yesterday. Wide-eyed, and a swift turn of the head... An ordeal to put her through, but what a difference it makes for her.