Youngest Boy's Surgery Story

Youngest Boy’s surgery was way less traumatic for him than it was for me. He heard the words “play room” and that was his focus THE ENTIRE TIME. Up until we got there, his only concern was that, “I don’t like to go to sleep during the day.” No kidding.
I knew going in that this was a “minor” procedure, even though they had added the adenoidectomy but it was still in my head that they were going to be giving him anesthesia (“magic air”). The anesthesiologist was a very nice Russian man who spoke with an accent that Youngest Boy couldn’t quite understand (He understood the word “Transformers”, though). They walked us through every thing that was going to happen, although, looking back, they never really gave me any kind of “warning” about the whole thing (like they do when a grown-up goes through a procedure, mentioning the word “death” more than once). I’m sure I signed something saying they had, but I know they didn’t.

They put him in a hospital gown:
And he got to keep his own pants on. They didn’t put the IV in until he was asleep and I stayed with him until he closed his eyes (I had to wear an oversuit thingy and a shower cap). I went to the café and tried to choke down some food since I had only eaten a bowl of chicken noodle soup in over 24 hours. Within 20 minutes I had eaten, called home and worked myself into a small panic and back down again. I walked into the waiting room, pulled out my book and before I could even sit down Dr. Seuss was looking for me to discuss how it had gone! Naturally, everything was fine. Ears were a piece of cake. The adenoids were so large that they had even created scar tissue around one of the Eustachian tubes. That convinced both of us that the whole thing WAS absolutely necessary. I was relieved it was over but anxious to see my son. Typically, the longer they sleep the better so when the nurse came to get me less than 5 minutes later I knew I was in trouble. He thought I was gone because I wasn’t there when he woke up like we thought I would be. Poor guy! All in all, I’m glad we went through it. I’m hoping it will alleviate his symptoms (snoring, ear infections) and I think it is much better that he did this when he’s 5 than when he’s 15. I am so, so proud of how he handled the whole thing and frankly, I’m proud that I handled it all by myself even though I would much rather have had my husband with me. I was really frustrated that everyone was so sick. I really wanted to be able to focus just on him and instead I barely focused on him. I was so busy cleaning up and taking care of everyone that he was just another person on my list. I almost always feel like a triage nurse: Those in the most need get taken care of first. I’m constantly assessing what NEEDS to be done versus what SHOULD be done versus what would be NICE to do. In the end, I guess that’s what every mother of more than one child has to do when they all need something at once. When you find yourself saying things like, “Please! Try to throw up INTO the garbage can and I’ll be with you as soon as I can!!” you may start to question your ability to handle all of this. I certainly did/do.