Then we showed up this morning. And she started crying. And saying that she wanted to go home. And saying that the I.V. hurt so bad. And crying. And I stayed steely calm (but compassionate, of course) and told her that we were here, she wanted it done, we needed to stay and get her foot fixed.
As they wheeled her away, red and crying, I felt like Mommy Monster. It is SO difficult to watch them wheel your child back to surgery, even if she is 18 and an "adult". I know she'll be fine and in the long run she'll be happy that she had it done, but right now I feel like an ogre. RRawwwrrrr.