X marks the spot.

Yesterday was our pre-op appointment. We met with someone from anesthesia and signed our lives away before meeting with a child-life specialist who told us too many details about the number of tubes that will be coming out of Eve when she wakes up in the ICU. We were given a phone number to call today after 4 p.m. to find out what time to be at the hospital tomorrow. (I just got off the phone with them and turns out we'll need to be there at 6 a.m., bright and early. Well, maybe not so bright.)

After Eve's labs were drawn, we headed off to find radiation-oncology. When I spoke with the doctor who set up our appointment, he asked if I knew where the clinics were. Well, sure! We have been to them at least once a week for the past three months! Good. Radiation-oncology is in the basement beneath the clinics. It will be easy to find because we are the only ones down there. Awesome, no problem.

Except when we went to the basement, it looked like a place a serial killer might tie up his victims before going to ritualistically sacrifice a goat. This was not the place.

Well, there are other elevators that go to different places. Let's try those.

Nooo. Nothing down here screams high-intensity radiation. Back upstairs to ask someone.

Matt found a woman at the volunteer desk who handed him a piece of paper with cryptic instructions like, "Go to the end of the wall" and "Go through an open doorway." Included with the piece of paper was a map of the hospital. Matt thought the map was curious in that he couldn't figure out how to read it. Nothing seemed to make sense. Not that we come from long lines of cartographers, but we are able to navigate our way through the State Fair, so a hospital map should not be an issue. But still, we wandered around like a bunch of 11-year-old pirates trying to figure out where the buried treasure is.

Ohhhh...this map is for Duke Hospital SOUTH! We were in the wrong hospital following the wrong directions.

For some reason, I decided to wear tennis shoes yesterday. And I'm so glad I did. Because we very well could have been walking from terminal to terminal at an airport. (Although Matt was quick to point out that airports are actually clearly labeled.) We blindly followed a walkway that connected the hospitals, hoping there would be some better signage once we got inside. 25 minutes later, we arrived at the Clinics (for big people).

We met with radiation-oncology, but I won't subject you to the details until we know if Eve will need to have it. It doesn't sound pretty.

So here we are, a little more than 12 hours before we go back to the hospital. Poor Eve doesn't know what's in store for her tomorrow. Who needs an extra kidney, anyway?