the surgery

I had all good intentions to post this last night - right before I crashed on the couch at 7:30. The physical and mental exhaustion of the past week(s) took its toll and I lost. Not that I am complaining! I have not slept like that for days! So now I am back, refreshed and on my second cup of java. Strap your selves in!

Where to begin... hmmm. Well, I guess I will start here: Being the good mother that I am, cough cough, I decided I would wake Grady up at 11:30 pm to feed him before the 'no food after midnight' cut off. Yeah, that didn't work so well. Because he had spiked a fever he wanted nothing to do with the food I was trying to force down his throat. In fact, he spit it back at me. Isn't he a cherub? So back to bed he went. He awoke nice and early and thankfully, not hungry. I did get him to eat a popsicle before the 'no liquids after 8:00' though. You would have thought he won the lottery. A popsicle...AT 6:30 am?! Are you serious?!? SCORE!! The problems began when his brother came downstairs and wanted cereal for breakfast. I tried hiding Drake while he ate but darn how his voice carries when he asks for another bowl. Grady's ears quickly perked up and then HE wanted cereal too. I convinced him he could have whatever he wanted after he saw the doctor. He quickly chose doughnuts and not just any doughnuts, Krispy Kreme doughnuts. (I LOVE this boy) So the bribe was set. After another two hours of standing guard in front of the pantry we decided to leave.

We fielded the "Can I have my doughnut now?" question the entire way there. How many times can a toddler ask the same question in a 15 minute car ride - WAY. TOO. MANY. We had just registered and settled in the little play area when they called us back - sweet! As soon as the automatic door closed behind us we heard the dreaded words... the doctor is running behind. Joy! I will now mention that it wasn't just a little behind - it was TWO frickin' hours behind. Two hours that hubby and I were encapsulated in a small room (with no windows), with a three year old that would not stop chanting "I want my doughnut!" " I don't like this room. Mommy I want to leave" "I go now and get my doughnut?!" Oh the insanity of it all. To top it off we, being the good parents that we are, cough cough, opted to not eat breakfast as a way to help Grady with his not eating experience. That did not, however, include the nice piping hot cups of coffee we had just gotten. The ones we weren't allowed to bring back with us into the pre-surgery room. The ones that might have taken the edge off the chanting three year old and his obsession with doughnuts. Though, Young Hot Doctor or YHD, in scrubs was nice on the eyes and did ease the pain slightly. Even better was when hubby pointed out to YHD that a mutual friend of theirs wife thought he was hot. That made YHD blush - making him even hotter as he stood there in scrubs. sigh

Then the nurse brought Grady his surgery pajamas to change into - light lavender. Guess they try and give you ones you won't steal. As though the monstrous Children's Hospital Stamps all over them wouldn't be enough of a deterrent. Grady hated them and refused to keep the top on. I don't blame him. He looked like an over washed Barney doll. He finally stopped chanting/ screaming when he got the pre-anesthetic relaxer drug. He was a riot and we liked him again! Is it bad to be entertained by your three year old son in a complete drunk/stoned state? No, I didn't think so either. He insisted I was laying on the floor even as he was sitting in my lap. "Momma, why you on the floor?? giggle giggle Momma you on the floor!" All the while his head is drooping from side to side with that lackadaisical look of euphoria. Wish I had my camera to capture it cause I can guarantee the next time I see that face he will be grounded!

After that all went well. He came out of surgery like a trooper. His first words were, of course, about those damn doughnuts. I swear that boy has a one track mind. As soon as YHD gave us a prescription for oxycodone (HELLO MOMMA!!) and discharged him we were off to Krispy Kreme. Before we could pull away from the drive though window Grady woofed down three doughnuts without breathing. When he finally came up for air and asked for a fourth I had to say no. This was met with lots of tears and discourse. I persuaded him to wait until we got home so that his tummy could rest but the chanting continued until we got home. Ironically all the chanting about doughnuts did not deter me from partaking in their soft and sweet goodness - yum.

Now he is up and about riding his big wheel around the house like nothing ever happened. Deep down this was how I knew (and hoped) it would be. I am glad this is all behind us and hope that the surgery fixed everything it was supposed too. Guess we will find out when we go see YHD in a month for Grady's follow-up. Wonder what I will wear...???