Yesterday I had the joy of taking Olivia to get set up with her holter monitor prior to next month's cardiology appointment. It was 90+ degrees outside and here I schlepping my 30lb turkey plus all the diva's gear through the parking garage across the hospital campus only to find that I can't go our normal route because it's now under construction for the next year or two. Instead we needed to trudge back the way we came and walk through the garage to the entrance of the Heart Hospital which is luckily very close to the house. Liv was a sobbing mess and had been since she saw us pull up to the big ole scary parking garage. I was busy trying to comfort her, keep her lovey close, the sweat out of my eyes and her shirt from pulling down too much and exposing her scar in the bright sunlight. Blech
Once we hit the glorious AC I had high hopes that I might be able to put her down so that I could get myself semi organized and her registered. I understand it's a heart hospital and most of the patients are adults that have either made some poor life decisions, been dealt a bad hand genetically or the elderly that have worn their hearts out with a good long life. I really do understand that. So to see this sobbing little girl clinging to her mother for dear life had to look extra pathetic to them especially since I was frazzled trying to comfort, register and juggle Minnie, Minnie Mouse Purse, Diaper bag and some nice cool water to keep said sobbing toddler a little cool. But I cannot count on one hand the number of patients and healthcare professionals alike that asked something along the lines "She's not the patient is she?". I answer "Yes, she is the patient". Their reply "Oh bless her heart". "Oh yes, please do bless her heart - again and again if you could" I think silently. Clearly they are looking past her incision peeking out of her shirt so I just chose to smile and nod moving on for the next ambush and well intentioned nurse who tries a sticker or toy getting too close to Olivia for her comfort and only furthering the hysterics.
The holter placement itself was easy as pie, in and out in less than three minutes. The forty five minute ordeal leading up to that we could have done without, but what can you do but roll with the punches? Providing that all the results are looking good, meaning no detectable arrhythmias, I think they will choose to start weaning her off the Amioradone at her next card appointment on 8/3. That'll also be the first echo since the Fontan and I'm anxious to see how things look and have healed.