Post-surgery update: the Flynn edition

Yesterday morning, I had the unique pleasure of waking my youngest extra early to take him to Mary Bridge Children's Hospital for surgery to unclog his clogged tear duct.  Fun!  Not a word was spoken on the car ride over.  He perked up once we arrived, returning to his normal state of "What's that?" every five seconds.  There was quite of bit of waiting around.  We had to wait to be checked in.  Flynn didn't mind; he was running around exploring and saying hi to everyone he encountered.  He only asked for food three times.  (That was my biggest concern about the day.  Both of my children are extreme cranks without food, and F wasn't allowed to eat after midnight.)  We were finally checked in and shown to our room, where I was given the scrubs to dress the boy. 

Hospital gowns don't fit so well when one is tiny.

I have to say this about Mary Bridge.  What an awesome facility!  Yes, we had to wait a bunch, but you know what, Flynn didn't notice.  He had a play kitchen, dump trucks, books, and other kids to play with.  He favorite activity was to go up and down the hall in a Little Tikes Cozy Coupe saying, "Race!  Race!"  He did notice that one by one, his new little friends were going away.  [BTW, the kids go in order of age, not scheduling time.  Twelve kids were there yesterday.  Flynn was one of the oldest.  I was under the impression that the child had to be two before having this done.  I guess the not-my-doctor felt differently.]

See, there were pants under those gowns.

Then his little friends started returning, but now they were crying. Flynn was growing quite concerned. (Those kids were happy a little while ago...)  Then it was time to get Flynn's vitals and give him some pre-surgery pain meds.  You would have thought he was being strangled while watching his teddy bear be set on fire*.  He eventually calms down, then we are ushered back to the surgery area.  In a tiny room, we meet with the doctor, the anaesthesiologist, and the attending nurse.  Then, the nurse takes Flynn.  I am not allowed in the operating room or the recovery room.  Flynn was heartbroken, armed outstretched, crying, trying to escape from the evil nurse who had carried him off.  The look on his face just about broke my heart.

I was told by some nurse early on that there wouldn't be time for me to run down and grab some food while Flynn was in surgery.  She wasn't kidding.  After Flynn was taken away, I sat down, posted to Facebook, read a couple of e-mails, and then the doctor returns to tell me Flynn was in the recovery room.  He told me there was more blood than usual, but that happens.  (I am grateful that he didn't say "it's not uncommon".  I despise that phrase.)  Ten minutes later, a very sad and blood-smeared faced Flynn is wheeled out.  Poor kid.  Not a word was spoken on the ride home.

After an hour of Animaniacs, the boys finally decided he was hungry.  He should have been; it had been 16 hours since he last ate.  We had post-lunch railroad construction time.  He turned very cranky very quickly.  Nap time!  He slept for four hours, not fully restful the entire time, but four hours nonetheless.  He was incredibly clingy when he woke.  We snuggled on the couch and watched some vintage 90210 (Rush week!).  The care instructions told me to push liquids.  I offered him water: no.  I offered him juice: yes.  While standing in the kitchen, he pushed away the juice and proceeded to vomit over the two of us.  Fun!  He felt much better after that.  Joy.  A little while late, Tim brings Drake home from daycare.  Miss Tracy had the kids make Flynn a get well soon card with all of their hand prints and quotes to Flynn.  Made me cry.  That was the sweetest thing ever.

Part of his treatment is to prevent injuries and falls.  I am unable to do this when he is feeling fine; how on earth do these people expect me to do this when he isn't 100%?  I am also supposed to give him eye drops four times a day for five days.  Do you know how tightly my son can clamp his eyelids shut?  The jaws of life couldn't pry those suckers open.

Flynn's feeling pretty good this morning.  How do I know this?  When I got him out of his crib this morning, he wasn't wearing a diaper.  He sleeps in fully zipped footed jammies.   My little Houdini is almost back to normal.


*I know we aren't supposed to compare children, but this experience has reminded me what a pro Drake is when it comes to all things medical.  He has been seeing specialists since the womb and has been poked and prodded numerous times.  He now chats it up with the technician drawing his blood.  I can't even do that.