Friday morning, the Cool Cucumber, who usually wakes up around 7 or later every morning, woke up right at 5:30--his final deadline to get any solid food before surgery. That boy has a sixth sense about food! So he ate a big breakfast and we played until it was time to head to the hospital.
Once we got to the hospital, we signed in, he got weighed, got his stats taken and then we waited. Our hospital has a huge toy room for kids to play in before surgery and we spent much of the time doing rounds in a Cozy Coupe around the same-day surgery ward.
|Playing before surgery|
A visual for you: they had asked me to have The Cucumber wear a button-down shirt. They didn't tell me they would be removing his pants. So, basically, my son walked the halls looking like a drunken frat boy for about an hour before surgery. The staff called him Risky Business and would laugh every time he would take a lap, toddling past the nurses' station.
About a half hour before surgery, a little Irishman came out and introduced himself as our anesthesiologist. I can honestly tell you that I didn't understand a fucking word his adorable little ass said. His accent was so thick that it was like a leprechaun was trying to tell me what was about to happen. The little I did pick up contained a lot of really far-out metaphors and euphemisms. One was that The Cucumber was going to dream for a thousand years and travel to faraway lands while he was under during surgery. Um...OK. That sounds totally relevant to what is going on right now, Lucky Charms. Any other knowledge bombs you want to drop on me? I finally just nodded and said it all sounded great.
Fifteen minutes before surgery, a nurse gave The Cucumber some hydrocodone. A few minutes after that, a few people came to get us for the big walk to the surgery suite.
|Make sure every. single. person. knows about what allergies your kid has.|
I had asked to be there when The Cucumber was put under, so I suited up and went into the room. which is good, because the nurse didn't know I was going in so she took him and he freaked out. But once I took him back and went in, he was happy as a clam.
Once we were in, I laid him down on table and they put the gas mask over his face. I then put my hand on his head and sang his favorite song into his ear, just like I had when The Quiet Contemplator went under for surgery.
Going in to the surgery suite is really important to me for surgeries and I have been very lucky to have understanding anesthesiologists who have let me do this. A lot won't. Mainly because it is fucking intense and you might freak out. I don't. I am a stone cold statue when my babies need me. No emotion outside of mommy being there for them. But it can be hard, so only do it if you 100% know you can handle it. The room is full of tools and lights and it can get overwhelming. Also, a person going under anesthesia can act strangely and it can scare you. They can cry, or convulse, or their eyes can roll back. So just be prepared if this is something you want. Both of my experiences have been lovely and made it so much easier for the kids.
|I felt like Missy Elliot in my surgery suit|
So The Cool Cucumber drifted off to dreamland and I went back to our room to wait. Not even 15 minutes later, a nurse was there to let me know that he had done great and that he was in recovery coming to. Then I didn't hear anything for a while. Maybe another 20 minutes, and I started to freak out a bit. Another nurse then came in to tell me that his breathing was not going well and that his heart rate was high. They were going to give him a breathing treatment. Fuck. I knew this was going to happen. Always listen to your inner mommy instinct (more on that next Thursday)!
After a bit, I got a call on the phone to tell me I could go back to recovery. I ran/walked there and got to his room to find him crying. He immediately went to me and calmed down. The nurse said, "Oh, he just wanted his mommy." Um...duh. After I got to him, I had to hold him and give him his breathing treatment. He was not a huge fan, but we got it done.
After he finished the treatment, we were moved back to our original same-day surgery room to wait a bit more. Generally, you are discharged from recovery but since he had had breathing and heart issues, we needed to sit tight and make sure he was OK.
|Checking his stats|
After his heart rate finally leveled out, we were on our way home. The steroids from the breathing treatment had WIRED the little dude so he was a tiny tornado once we returned home. He was everything, everywhere, all the time. It was hilarious. Though he had no real nap that day, he actually rallied past his bedtime. Once he was down though, he was out for over 14 hours straight! The next day he woke up his usual rock star self. He even went to his cousin's birthday pool party the next day!
So there you have it. We were lucky things went as well as they did and that I listened to my gut and did what was right for my son. Never, ever fuck with mama's babies (Again, more on this next Thursday).