What He Said…
So, on Wednesday we took The Bee down to the 104 degree heat of the Valley of Death to see the Craniofacial Surgeon par excellence…so we’ve been told. I think that the expertise of any given medical professional comes in direct proportion to how long you have to sit in a random waiting room, waiting to be graced with the presence of said expert par excellence (is that redundant?).
The answer for this one was an hour. In the waiting room, that is. And then a 20-minute appointment. Heh. I clearly became the wrong kind of doctor.
I held her upside down on my lap (which was, by the way, the means by which I got my own first glimpse of her open palate), and he peered in with a tongue depressor. She screamed bloody murder. As well she should, given what’s coming.
His comment–and I quote–was, “it isn’t trivial, but it’s not by any means the worst I’ve ever seen.” In point of fact, he was rather blase about it, which I’m sure is the pose he’s learned to adopt for nervous-nelly parents. Been here, done this. He doesn’t need her to come again before the day of surgery. It’ll be only one night in the hospital, and then home with 10 days of liquid diet, and then 10 more days of soft foods diet. And that’s that. He quoted only a 2-4% rate of fistulas in his experience (fistula=nasty little gape in the new tissue repair that can open up like a sinkhole and require an eventual second surgery), which is a very good success rate. And he wouldn’t do a lip revision before she was four because he wants her to understand what’s happening for that one, so she can “participate” in the massaging of the scars and so on. But he can completely eliminate her upper-lip scars, says he.
Then his nurse Fabiola with the auburn eyebrows and the incredible Botox lips brought us his scheduler’s card. Um, yeah. He has a woman, Victoria, who doesn’t even work in his office schedule his surgical appointments. She’s like a freelance scheduler, off-site. Um, yeah. Fabiola told us Victoria won’t answer her phone, just leave a message, and she’ll get back to us in 24-48 hours. Um, yeah.
I dialed the freelancer before we even hit the parking garage. No answer. I left my message, emphasizing that The Bee is now 22 months, older than most kids who need this surgery. She called me back on Thursday afternoon, while I was on the acupuncturist’s table, stuck with little copper-topped wires in my feet, belly, and hands (I’m being treated for non-apparent anger issues, according to my acupuncturist. Heh.). I hopped off and answered anyway because I knew it was Victoria.
Early September. That’s what they’re scheduling right now. The surgeon par excellence has vacation most of August. If there’s an earlier cancellation, they’ll call. We should be ready to go in an instant. An instant, plus two+ hours of driving to get there. And then the waiting room. Ahem.
Apparently all craniofacial surgeons are the same exact man. It sounds nearly identical to our experience. Well, minus Victoria, anyway.
Glad you all made it though.
Comment by: jse - 06.16.2007 - 2.50 pm
I’m relieved to learn that E’s is not an extreme case. Good to hear, too, that it’s only one night in the hospital and that he can eliminate the upper lip scars. Besides the wait, the drive, having to deal with his majesty and Victoria, it all sounds positive. Thanks for the update.
Comment by: walternatives - 06.16.2007 - 3.07 pm
I hate moving with the needles in me. No matter where they’re put its a direct line to my bladder. Within 10 minutes, I have to pee like I’ve never peed before.
I like the surgery prognosis. Cool confidense can be annoying, unless its your precious daughter’s facial surgeon. Thanks for the update!
Comment by: christie - 06.16.2007 - 3.28 pm
Thanks for filling us in. Glad to hear The Bee’s prognosis sounds so good.
Fabiola and Victoria sorta add spice to the whole scene for me.
Comment by: Jacquie - 06.16.2007 - 3.33 pm
I had to re-read the Fabiola bit. I thought you meant s/he was a transvestite.
So great to hear that the rock star surgeon was blase. Blase is good. Yay for Emme Lu!
And tell us about these latent anger issues…
Comment by: atomic mama - 06.16.2007 - 4.52 pm
Love the name Fabiola - Fabi with the Auburn Brow.
Great to hear about the appointment, SB. Just think - a year ago September was the first time you ever saw the Bee’s face. Full circle sort of energy, in a way.
Comment by: wzgirl - 06.16.2007 - 6.59 pm
Doctors - honestly, like auto mechanics to the stars. Wish I had a bank account the size of the average surgeon’s ego…
Glad to hear your little Bee is in good shape, tho. Enjoy your first summer together!
Comment by: FDChief - 06.16.2007 - 8.12 pm
Sounds like a good trip with a doctor on a head trip. As long as he can do the work, right?
So, how are non-apparent anger issues diagnosed? I had accupuncture for awhile and loved it! Unfortunately, it didn’t help the problem I went for - headaches - and I stopped going. Gave me gobs of energy, though.
Comment by: Cavatica - 06.17.2007 - 7.06 am
I had to re-read the Fabiola thing, too! Sounds like (outside of the long wait til your appointment) all went well, and I am relieved that E’s correction is not going to be as difficult as it could be.
Comment by: Amanda - 06.17.2007 - 2.21 pm
It sounds like he’s the right guy in spite of (let’s hope not because of) Fabiola and Victoria. So glad to hear the excellent prognosis all things considered!
Comment by: Anne Marie - 06.19.2007 - 6.29 pm
Hmm… we apparently have a plastic surgeon like that on our cleft team. He’s supposed to be excellent in the OR, but his bedside manner sucks- usually. I asked for Daniel to be referred to the other plastic surgeon. It sounds like things will be great for Emme Lu! The capability of surgeons to deal with cleft issues these days is really quite amazing. Sure, it takes a few years to work everything out, but the results are so very worth it in the end.
Comment by: Carolyn - 06.26.2007 - 7.26 pm