Bean had her surgery over the holiday break. When we heard from the hospital that we needed to be there at 830, we felt a combination of utter dread and relief. Dread because we knew there would be no breakfast, and our sweet Bean can get a bit monstrous when hungry. Relief because it was a much more sensible hour than the last time she had this done, and we had to be there at 600.
We talked a lot about what was going to happen, and how she would not be able to eat, because of the medicine the doctors were going to give her. She handled the situation like a star. One of our favorite mottos is ‘plan for the worst, hope for the best’, and this time we were lucky to experience the latter. She was hungry, as is evidenced by all the talk of what she wanted to eat when she was done. They did not take her back until after 1030, so we had lots of time to discuss the pros and cons of pancakes vs. cereal.
The procedure took about 20 minutes, then the Dr. came out and told us that she had behaved like a champ, and that the procedure went perfectly, and that she was in recovery and someone would come and get us in about 10 minutes. I was so proud of her, she listened to the nurse and doctors, was not afraid, and was basically a superstar. Her adenoids were also infected, so he took those out. That made for an amazing change in her health. Prior to that, for about two weeks, she had a persistent itchy sounding cough every AM that did not respond to antibiotics. When she woke up the morning after the procedure, there was no coughing to speak of. Amazing.
So, back to the waiting room. We wait for 10 minutes. 11 minutes. 12 minutes. That is when I began to freak a bit. 13 minutes. That is when I started getting on H’s nerves. I was having flashbacks to the last time, when she had a very difficult time waking from the anesthesia. And this time they had her under general, because of the adenoids. Back out comes the Dr. She is, in fact, having a difficult time waking up, but it should only be a few more minutes. It was about 7 more minutes, but might as well have been hours. The waiting room was packed, and I could not even pace around without bothering everyone else. So I had to sit, and bounce my foot. Which also most likely bothered everyone sitting around me, H in particular. Too bad.
Finally one of the nurses came out to get us, I have never moved so fast. We get to the recovery area and they tell us only one of us could go back. I don’t think I even checked with H to see if he wanted to go. I just tossed my coat and bag at him and ran. She looked so small all curled up in that big bed. There was dried blood around her mouth and she was whimpering. They let me pick her up and she did the burrow thing that little ones do, where it feels like they are trying to get into your skin with you. We cuddled quietly for a while. She moved around a bit, and I noticed that her IV had come out. I held it together really well, if I do say so myself. There was a LOT of blood, and the last thing I wanted was for her to freak. We got the two of us cleaned up. They would not let her leave until she had drank some juice, and that took a while because her throat was sore from the tube. She finally did, and we left. I was smart this time, and had her favorite juice du jour (white grape), and cheese sticks in the car. She did get sad when she found out that the pancakes would be made for her at home by me instead of the staff at Friendly’s (no way were we going to a restaurant knowing that the epic melt down that may or may not be on the horizon). But it was just her normal way of showing sadness, not the out of control tantrum we experienced last time. She half fell asleep on the 20 minute ride home. I sat with her in the back. She held my hand the whole time. So sweet. When we got there, she ended up wanting cheerios. So cheerios she got. Three big bowls later, it was a story and a nap. She woke up 1.5 hours later, her usual happy self, ready to roll.
We have no idea why this time was so much different than last time. Is it because she is a year older, and is able to understand more? Since she is a year older is her body able to handle the drugs better? Was the gas they used different? We talked beforehand about how she might not feel well afterwards, and how it will be important to have something to drink, if not eat too. Other than the freak out on my part, it was a much better experience this time around. She stayed really healthy until the end of last week, when she picked up what we hope is a cold. Our fingers are crossed that she will be able to kick it on her own, now that her ears can drain properly and those pesky adenoids have left the building. Oh, and apparently she has the tonsils of a 14 year old boy. So we will have to keep and eye on them too. I am glad we had this done though. I know a lot of parents do not think tubes are necessary, but for us they really helped her. Prior to the first set, she could not get a cold without it turning into an ear infection. It was terrible.
Alls well that ends well. And we have a whole new realm of pretend play in our house now. Lots of going to the hospital, and riding in a wagon (that is how they take the kids back to surgery), and breathing with a round thing over our nose and mouth, and having a lot of blood. That doctors play kit grandma and pop-pop got her for Christmas is getting a work out these days.
