We found out, shortly after her birth, that GwennieRu has a ventricular septal defect, a VSR for short. The murmur that the doctor heard led to a cardiac ultrasound and it was seen that there was a hole between two chambers of her heart. Because of the kind of tissue the hole was in, it was fairly certain that it would not correct itself as she grew. But we hoped and prayed for that anyway, because it was still possible.

Gwennie had a cardiologist appointment last Tuesday afternoon. We were eager to see if anything had changed. Julia had made sure she was free to take her at 2:30 pm, and I wanted to come along. As the morning progressed, I wondered if the predicted storm would make any alterations in our plans.

Around 1:00 pm Kevin showed me the weather radar on his phone. “There’s a band of severe wind and rain coming across your path at just about the time you have to be traveling,” he reported. I wondered if he was thinking that we shouldn’t go, but no more was said.

I made sure Gwennie was ready and the diaper bag was packed as I anticipated Julie’s arrival. Then I got a text from her.

I think lots of things that I never say to people. In this case I was thinking…

Isn’t this kind of crazy?

We have a serious storm out there.

I have only driven your new fangled hybrid car once, and it made me feel stupid.

You feel okay trusting this old woman grandma to do this alone with this precious child?”

Pushing doubt, fear, and good sense aside, I decided I had better get going so I could go slowly and have time for all the uncertainties. Julia and Kevin thought I could do this, so maybe I could.

I packed up the child and carried her quickly through the rain to the car. Car frustration started at once. I discovered the car wouldn’t start until I buckled my seat belt. Halfway down the drive, I saw a warning from the computer. “Service required” it said with a picture of a tire and an exclamation mark. Knowing that service was not going to happen, I kept driving. It didn’t feel like a flat tire, so maybe one of them was a little low on air.

Weather alerts were coming through on my phone. Authorities were telling people not to go anywhere unless they had been ordered to evacuate. There was a lot of flooding on the roadways. About that time, I saw emergency lights ahead where a large truck was blocking my lane. A tree had just fallen across half the road and cars were taking turns going around it on the remaining lane.

The rain was coming down hard as I pulled into the equine hospital parking lot. Julia’s vet truck came in a minute later. I was glad she was going to be driving the rest of the way to the appointment. She scrambled in and we were on our way again.

This storm impressed us both. There was a lot of water on the roads. Sometimes there would be a low spot with enough water that Julia would suddenly grab the wheel tight to keep us going straight. Once, a car in an oncoming lane sent so much water flying through the air that it hit our windshield like a rock, shocking us. Almost every car had flashers on, and we saw several stalled cars when we got into the city.

Fortunately, by that time the band of severe weather was nearly past. The wind was calmer and the rain wasn’t as scary. We made it to the clinic. Julia let Gwennie and I out at the front door and went to park.

In retrospect, maybe we should have cancelled the appointment, but, as I said, it was an important one. We had so hoped to hear that open heart surgery would not be needed for tiny GwennieRu. That was not the case. Surgery was still the recommendation and the doctor made a strong case for it. It is scheduled for February 8th.

They say that children her age recover quickly, much better than older children. The normal progression is 4 days in the hospital and then home, with only Tylenol for pain. Complications are not common, and the expectation for complete recovery and full activity are the norm.

Thank God (and I do) that we didn’t die on the way to the appointment.

There is that element of risk, in varying degrees, to every adventure that I can think of. It’s the adrenaline rush, the seriousness of what one is doing, and what could happen that makes an adventure burn its way into our memories. I don’t think I’ll forget about this one.