The hospital wasn’t nearly as cracked out this morning as it was Monday. Although, I did see the crazy smiling lady and her friend. I was wrong, her friend is not Kipper, it’s Kipler. Good, now I can get that dog with the British accent out of my head. There were a few odd ducks, but all in all, it was okay. The doctor took forever to get started with surgeries and Henry was not the youngest anymore, so he was bumped to second.
He did really well considering we couldn’t feed him. He’s 21 pounds. 21 pounds and he’s only seven months old. Avery is almost three and weighs 28 pounds… Needless to say, he doesn’t usually miss a meal. I guess there were so many people for him to look at that he forgot he was a pig. We got back to the pediatrics holding area and had to put him in a little hospital gown. Why did I forget my camera??? It was a putrid green color… The nurse said her gowns got washed with something green and she had ordered new ones. Anyway, it was weird as hell to see my little guy in a hospital gown, with his little butt hanging out and all. And a pea green one at that.
We had to entertain him for over an hour in holding and when they finally came and took him, I cried. Of course. Not because I was scared, per se, just because I can be a sentimental sap like that. After they took him, we went back out into the surgical waiting area and waited for like fifteen minutes tops before the doctor came in to talk with us. (There were a few weirdos in there at that point and they sat right next to us. There were a ton of seats. Why sit right fucking next to me???? Not even leaving one seat between us… I’m a freak magnet, I swear. It was an old lady bitching like hell because they took the free coffee out and because, according to the sign, her 65 year old son, who smelled to high heaven, couldn’t eat his sausage biscuit. She told him to screw the sign. It was “just a damned ole sausage biscuit. Let ’em try and kick us out.” And continued her tirade about having to pay a dollar for coffee. Personally, I was hoping to see the fiesty old grandma and her musty smelling son duke it out with the receptionist with ten inch, airbrushed fingernails. It would have been a good fight, I have no doubt…)
The doctor told us things went fabulously and we were directed to the recovery room. We didn’t even have to ask where to go. We could hear the pissed off little dude screaming at the top of his lungs from the hallway. He was seriously writhing and wiggling and trying his best to launch himself out of the nurse’s arms. They told us the anesthesia could make him grumpy. Yeah, grumpy… Raging mad is a better way to describe it. He wouldn’t even eat. You know something’s wrong with him if he won’t eat. They went over everything and we dressed him and were out of there in a matter of 30 minutes. It really wasn’t that bad of an experience. Henry raised holy hell when we put him in the carseat (he hates the carseat,) but promptly fell asleep and woke up his normal, happy little self. You would never know the kid had to have “suhguwy in his eaws” this morning. Thank god. Maybe we can get rid of all the damn ear infections, antibiotics and sick room visits that turn me into an insane person.
We even went to lunch and enjoyed a nice little family outing to BRU. Mom headed out and we are all enjoying an afternoon watching movies, making forts with blankets and playing hide and seek (over and over and over…) I’ll try to post something a little more interesting later, but for now, I’m late for a picnic on the floor. And, Avery does not put up with tardiness. Especially when Brother has been stealing some of her attention today.
Edited to change the title from “The Lowdown on the Tubes.” I’ve been calling today’s procedure “Operation Smackdown” and thought that just sounded better for a title. 😉