I'm still trying to maintain the position of eternal optimist but I'm sure being tested. Dylan went in to surgery this morning at 10:30... When I hadn't heard anything by 11:45 I knew things didn't go as planned. At 12:00 I saw the radiologist in the coffee shop on the main floor so I new she would be returning from recovery any minute. I didn't dare ask him in the coffee shop because I already knew in my gut what the answer was (judging by the solemn defeated look on his face). I was determined not to cry and came up to the room where Dylan was just getting back.  They tried 8 times, 8 times! And could not get a vein. My poor girl is sedated and comfortable but her legs look like pincushions. I'm waiting now for the surgeon to come and discuss plan B. Or C, or E... whichever we're on now. I'll take all of those virtual hugs now, please.