Today, number one grandson Nate had his tonsils and adenoids removed. This is a fairly routine procedure, and all went well.
When we got to the tonsil-taking-out place, they took Nate back, put him in a little gown and gave him some 90-proof something or other to “take the edge off.”
He told his mama, “I’m tired, and these warm blankets might make me go to sleep, but they aren’t gonna get me with this medicine.” Right. Then they let him choose the stuffed animal of his choice out of their toy barrel. He chose a chinchilla and proceeded to take it through the motions….. “go chinchilla, it’s your birthday, do the happy dance, it’s your birthday” (nope, that medicine was not working at all! wink, wink).
All was well for awhile. The nurses came in and introduced themselves to Nate, the anesthesiologist came in and talked with him, the 14-year-old doctor came in and talked to him. They had a good repoire, since they were so close in age and all. When they finally came to take him back, he got through kissing mama and me, and then grand”daddy” leaned over to kiss him. He started crying and tried to get out of bed, as if he really thought he could walk with that happy juice in him. I tucked him back in and darn if some of his tears didn’t start falling out of my eyes! It was the weirdest thing.
The procedure went well, as I said earlier. In recovery, he was a mess. He kept trying to rub his nose, because the anesthesia was making him itch. He cried for a few seconds and then he’d go to sleep. Then he’d wake up again and cry some more. We gave him water, sprite, an icicle, orange sherbet, more water, and more pain medicine. That finally kicked in and he slept for a while until time to go home.
I have to say, I was completely impressed with the staff at the tonsil-taking-out-place. They were extremely professional and totally caring of Nate. The nurse who took him from the room to the operating area spoke softly and calmly to him all the way down the hall, comforting him and telling him exactly what was going to be happening. And his post-op nurse was wonderful. The genuine look of concern on her face for Nate’s well-being was overwhelming. It was as if she was taking care of her own child. She was gentle, kind, patient. She answered all our questions, all his questions (which he asked over and over). She took great care to share with Jenni what was going to happen in the next couple of weeks and went over the care sheets line by line. When Nate asked if he could see his tonsils, she called and asked someone to bring them for him to see. They were sealed inside a little bottle. The looked like mini-golf balls–no joke. HUGE. Which is why he had to have them removed, actually. He took one look at them and cried.
“Why are you crying?” I asked. “Because my tonsils are gone forever,” he wept. Clearly still under the influence of the meds.
He’s such a special boy, that grandson of ours. We are thankful he won’t sound like Darth Vader anymore when he breathes.
p.s. LOVE LOVE LOVE the blue bird (is that what they’re called?) on your bird feeder, man – they are so gorgeous, sometimes I get to see one in my backyard but not nearly as often as I’d like.
Funny how those doctors keep getting younger! He’s a very blessed child to have so many around him who care. It makes all the difference. 🙂
What an experience and thankfully there were caring nurses and staff for him–gotta love that 90 proof happy juice though! tehe Praying now, for a quick recovery. Hugs, Pat