It was marked on Sara’s calendar (she has her own, what with her terribly busy social schedule). It was discussed with much bally-hoo. And last Friday, it finally came, the day we had been calling “Mole Go Away Day”. Before Sara’s first birthday, a small mole appeared on the bottom of her foot. It got larger as time passed, so we had it checked. Mommy thinking it will be measured and watched, was quite surprised to hear the words, “that should come off with a full excision and the sooner the better”. Apparently moles on the bottom of your feet are bad news. Should you have any, go get them checked. And follow Lori’s melanoma mantra: wear sunscreen…on the bottom of your feet.

Night before the surgery, Sara showing off her pristine foot one last time. Kelly giving us her usual, “what the heck is going on here” expression.

Sara met the day with great excitement. Riley hospital is covered with stuffed animals! She ran up down the hallway yelling, “There’s Mickey! There’s Donald Duck!” Poor kid thought she had gotten up early to go to Disney world. I had explained with much emphasis that when the mole goes away, there will be a boo boo in its place. That didn’t do much to temper her enthusiasm for a Sara adventure. After all, Grandmommy was here, so surely this adventure would involve pink cookies. One for each hand!

All was cool until they brought in her orange surgical pj’s. Like a rookie, I let her wear her new favorite green and pink sweats. “Tab I hab my orange juice?” No, sorry sweetie. “Tab I wear my green pants and pink shirt?” OF COURSE! Dumb, dumb Mommy. Upon notice that she’d need to change out of the super cool sweats, the Sara show ended and toddler Sara appeared. Not too worry, Versed followed soon after. Followed by a very goofy Sara watching “Tigger and Pooh” and saying things like, “I see two Tiggers! I see two Poohs!” The anesthesiologist declared her ready, and off she went. For all of 30 minutes.

Trying to convince Sara that orange scrubs are the new pink

She woke up like all kids do, screaming her bloody head off. I looked around me as I cuddled a very confused Sara and saw parents who looked like they’d made that surgical area a second home. I couldn’t help but feel pangs of guilt. We have about the healthiest kids on earth.

Sara and Grandmommy and the signature Riley “wheelchair”

Once we got her sweats back on her, the IV out, and the blood pressure cuff off, she was groggy and back to being standard crank-o-pottamus Sara. The doctor made mention that the Tylenol with codeine might make her drowsy. Yeah, uh-huh, meet Sara. It was like giving her a double stuffed Oreo, deep fried in honey, covered in sugar, along with a cup of chocolate syrup. What kind of central nervous system turns codeine into crack?

Rock Star Sara chills out on the ride home…the only quiet time we’ve seen in 2.5 years. Sara is cuddling a pillow from the hospital now known as her “doctor pee-whoah”.

When we got home, she had BOTH Grandmas there to comfort her, and she was ready for that level of lovin’. We’ve since gone through about a billion ban-bans, as she needs a new one to match every mood. She’s learned to call them stitches instead of strings, and she can now recite the full story to anyone who will listen. As a Mommy, I can only pray I made the right decision, and that I’ve somehow taken one thing off of her medical history plate. Because that was a lot of drama for one small mole!

After fully waking up, she asked Grandma to help her make some coffee. NO, not “pretend toffee Mommy, I need real toffee”….OK, like I’m going to EVER give this child coffee!

Grandaddy showed up on our doorstep with a “small” surprise. We call him “Balentine Bear”. I mean, really…what is an appropriate gift for 3 stitches? A bear 3x the size of Sara, of course!