And we just keep going

Shmoo has been home from the hospital since Thursday, and she'll be staying home all week, recuperating and eating soft foods and being told, over and over, not to jump on the couch or she'll tear a hole in her throat. If you need her, she'll be watching Dora the Explorer.

The surgery itself was a success, I'll admit -- her tonsils and adenoids were deemed "impressive," meaning that they were absolutely blocking her airway. It's a darned good thing they came out, since the bronchoscopy the doctor did at the same time determined that her airway itself is still very much compromised. Before her big surgery in 2006, her trachea was 70% constricted. We were told that the surgery would all but eliminate the constriction, but it didn't. She is now 65% constricted. She also has signs of acid damage to her airway, an indication that her reflux is worse than it was before.

What to do with this information? The knowledge is new, but the truth is not -- and so, do we treat her differently, knowing how precarious her breathing is? Do we seek more opinions than this one, which was something of a "yeah, bummer, isn't it?" prognosis? Truly, what now?

I'm tired, and I'm feeling momentarily defeated, but the beat goes on. Shmoo's health will be something to watch closely all her life, and I can't burn myself out too quickly. In the meantime, I'm not sure how much navel-gazing I want to do. I may be quiet for a bit, here.