I talked the surgery up in the time leading up to it. I didn't lie; I let him know that it would hurt after, but that we'd have lots of medicine and lots of cool, soft things to eat. He had lots of questions, like would he be awake during the surgery? No. How would he go to sleep? (He didn't think he'd be able to fall asleep on his own.) Special gas that he would breath in. Who would give it to him? A special doctor. Why couldn't he eat breakfast on the morning of the surgery? Because that could make him sick when he breathed in the special gas. And so on, you get the idea.
The Saturday before his Monday surgery, Cole and I went on a special shopping trip. I could tell he was nervous about the surgery, so I pretty much let him have free reign at the store. You want the gallon bucket of ice cream? Go for it. Three different kinds of popsicles? Sold. Juice, Gatorade, pudding, Jell-o and more? Of course.
He loved it. And he really didn't take advantage. He's a good kid.
Monday morning came. We had to be at the surgical center by 6:30am, so I got up and ready pretty early. I thought I would have to pull him out of bed, but when I walked into his room he was up and ready to go. (Nerves and excitement, I think.)
We got to the surgical center, filled out and signed a dozen forms, and then did what you do at any sort of medical appointment: wait.
We waited for a good 30 minutes, which made me wonder why we had to be there so early in the first place. Harrumph. Fortunately (in Cole's eyes), Cole had brought a library book about his newest obsession: flags of the world. Yes, it was a book that included every single country flag in the world (plus state flags), and descriptions of each. Yes, it reminded me of Sheldon's "Fun With Flags" YouTube shows on The Big Bang Theory. Yes, I had my Kindle and would have much rather read my latest book on that. But Cole was nervous and this made him calm and happy, so we marched through a ton of country flags, him reading the name of the country (and me often correcting his pronunciation) and then noting the languages spoken in that country. Time flew. (No, it didn't.)
We finally got called back and Cole got changed into his hospital gear. He was not a fan of the gown, but was quite impressed with the hat.
Even more impressed when Puppy got one, too!
Cole was nervous and excited and I think he didn't know what to do with himself, so he talked. Talked and talked and talked the entire time the nurse and I tried to discuss things. It got to be pretty funny, but the nurse was totally used to this and on game. (Read: she had lots of patience.) Cole got to choose what scent his gas mask would have and swabbed it on while we waited; he chose root beer. We watched SpongeBob for a bit. He asked lots of questions.
Dr. Davis, his ENT, came in. Cole didn't recognize him in scrubs and a hat. Then the anesthesiologist came in and explained things. Fun fact: this was the same anesthesiologist Cole had when he got his tubes in 5+ years ago.
And then, all too soon, we parted ways. Cole was rolled off on his bed and I was sent back to the waiting room.
Fun fact: 5+ years ago when he got his tubes out (in the very same place), I forgot to warn the nurses that he was a biter. He bit several. (I heard the first one yelp as she carried him down the hall.) This time I am happy to report there was no biting.
Not-So-Fun-Fact: Even though I knew he would be perfectly fine and that this surgery would make his life so much better, I still felt bad. I felt guilty that he had to go through it, knowing that he would be miserable. Mom guilt. It's a thing.
So I spent the next 30ish minutes in the waiting room, reading and bringing down the median age of other family members waiting by a good 30 years. Soon Dr. Davis came out to let me know that the surgery went great. He also let me know how impressed he was with how gross Cole's adenoids were. They were, and I quote, "full of all sorts of mucous and gross stuff. It was really quite impressive", he said, with great excitement and admiration. Ah, the fancy life of an ENT.
Fun fact: Cole had his tonsils and adenoids removed. He also had his nose roto-rootered. Okay, he had his turbinates reduced, but you get the idea. Hopefully he will now actually be able to breath through his nose!
About 15 minutes later I was taken back to Cole in recovery. The poor child was out of it. Head lolling, eyes glassy, asking incomprehensible questions. I felt so bad! He complained about his throat hurting (even though the doctor had numbed it up pretty good). Then he discovered the IV in his hand; this did not make him happy. Neither did the popsicle the nurses pushed on him. But the ice chips I fed him did!
He gradually woke up more, but I could tell he was just not himself. Until he started to argue with me about how long he was asleep. "How long was I asleep?" "Oh, around 30 or 40 minutes." "No, it was TWO." "Okay then." He was as grumpy/sad as you would expect a Cole fresh out of surgery to be. I rolled with it.
Then he got sick. All over himself. Poor guy. But the nurses were great and we got him all cleaned up. He just kept asking to go home, and about 45 minutes later we did. He actually seemed to perk up and feel more like himself after he was sick. He did NOT like getting the IV removed. (Who does? Those things hurt.) And when asked, he refused to have a wheel chair out to the car. Only behind his back I told the nurses to get one. And I was right because when he stood up for the first time he lurched around like a zombie, and then quite enjoyed the chair ride, even demanding to push the elevator buttons.
We got home and he lounged around for a bit. Lance had set up a laptop by his bed so he could watch videos. He did that for a bit, but after a few hours he was up and wandering around. A few hours after that he was running around! It was really quite amazing. He seemed to be just fine. (Don't worry - I knew this was the honeymoon period.) He happily ate lots of ice cream, yogurt, and popsicles. As did Tess, who followed the boy around. At one point I had to tell him to get off his scooter and get back inside - he was supposed to be taking it easy. Then I caught him eating an apple. What the what?
But alas, the honeymoon ended. He woke me up at 4:45 the next morning needing pain meds. The rest of the day he was kind of out of it and lounged around watching videos and playing on computer. He still ate lots of ice cream and yummy stuff like that. I was at Josh's baseball game that night, but Lance said he just sat on his lap for 30 minutes, glassy eyed and out of it before Lance put him to bed.
He woke me up early on Wednesday complaining that his head hurt. So we drugged him up and he put his head on his lap and slept while I held an ice bag to his temple. Poor, poor kiddo. I felt really bad because I could tell he was just miserable.
He didn't eat as much that day and I could tell his throat was more swollen. But by the evening I could tell he was feeling a bit better.
And this morning? He felt a little gross, but as soon as the meds kicked in he was doing great. He was even super excited to get out of the house and run some errands. He's still not running around like he usually does, but he's getting there. And he's still taking full advantage of the ice cream and such, even though I think he could probably start eating a few other things, but that's okay.
So, we have to wait a few weeks to know for sure, but hopefully this current misery will get rid of the snoring and sleep apnea and all the future misery that would bring. I still feel bad that he had to go through this, but I know it was worth it.
Now I just have to steel myself for the misery that will be the medical bills and imminent insurance issues. (Because there are always issues.) Then it will be time to break out the ice cream for me.
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