As most of you know, Max had his tonsils and adenoids taken out today. The little guy didn't sleep last night. That much I expected. He tried so hard, and ended up on our bedroom floor. G ended up in our bed and Marty got the couch--but got our bed back after Griff rolled out of ours (nice big red bump and bruise on his face now). We needed Daddy for a speed bump and safety net ;).
We left the house around 6:45 a.m. I had heard the procedure went really quick (12 minutes to be exact) and fully expected to be home around 9 a.m. We just got home--1:08 p.m. to be exact. We were at the surgery center for over four hours. Longest four hours of Max's and our lives, I believe.
We all left in pretty great spirits this morning. Said a family prayer. G was the most crabby. I could tell Max was nervous, but what kid wouldn't be? The unknown is scary--and especially one filled with lasers, drugs, and scabs and bleeding...
We got there and checked in. Busy place. Dark. Needed tea. Always super friendly reception and staff. I would highly recommend Lakeview to anyone. G did well. Got him his baggy full of cereal and vitamins--which he spilled all over the waiting room floor--but not before getting his vitamins down--yes! :) Paid the over $400 facility fee, Marty got a giggle from the T and A description (Max's procedure read "T and A") "seems unappropriated" Marty said ;), and off to the prep room.
Amazing nurse. Got Maxaroo all pimped out in his fancy blue gown (velcro, no ties--super sweet ;)) and answered all of our questions. He started getting a bit whiter here and wanted to hold my hand. Another family prayer. A few more questions, and the nurse brought in a big wagon full of books (including chapter books--yay Max!) and stickers. The boys each got to pick some out. Griff had to have an ID bracelet too--duh ;0)... "But I NOT detting my faot wipped out!" (just to clarify ;))
Ready to go. Kind of. The anesthesiologist then came in to talk to us. Very sweet, calm, quiet voice. More questions answered, more instructions. She explained to Max in full detail what was going to happen, what he may feel, that he would then fall asleep. He smiled and did his nervous little laugh tick and rocking back and forth motion the entire time. I just wanted it all to be over for him--no more rooms or people to talk to--let's get this thing done!
He was then ready to go back to surgery and we were to wait in the waiting room. I wanted to go in with him so badly. Tried to bribe the nurses with a candy bar. Didn't work. I should have brought MORE! ;) They said in about 20 minutes they'd call us back and he'd be in our arms.
20 minutes passed, and then another 20... Marty pointed out it had been well over 40 minutes and we were going on an hour. At this point, I started internally freaking out. Something had to have gone wrong. But they would have come and gotten us if something had gone wrong. He was fine. Maybe it was just taking a bit longer for him to wake up is all...
Meanwhile, the waiting room was my own personal hell of grown ups not watching their bratty children. A few kids were throwing toys, books, cars, and another kid (well over six) kept coming up to Griffyn and Marty (who were playing "Cars" on the Ipad2) and banging on it (after wiping his snotty nose all over his hands, arms, and any body part available)--demanding them to play a different game and yelling "pow!!!" over and over. I'm already stressed. All of us in this room have a kid who is in surgery. Watch your damn kids!!! His parents just sat there reading magazines and gabbing on their cell phones. I wanted to choke them--just till they were slightly purple is all. Marty and I laughed when we came into the building and there was a no smoking sign right on top of a "no guns" sign. I kind of got it after the waiting room apocalypse.
Finally, another nurse came and got us out of purgatory. Through the doors and down the hallway, I could hear my baby crying. He wasn't supposed to by crying. He was supposed to be sleeping, all nice and drugged up and sleeping.
He was a mess. A complete mess. It scared Griffyn. The nurse said he had been "very restless" when he woke up from the anesthetic and his IV had been ripped out--so they had to get it in again--and it took several pokes (as evident by all the bloody band aids on his hands and arms and bruises that looked like fingerprints) to get one back in. That sucker was taped in tight. Any of you who have problems getting IV's in know how very painful that is--especially in your hands!
We were in that room, dripping pain meds, for over an hour. Max wanted to die. I know because he kept repeating it over and over and over again. He was a rambling mess of chaotic thoughts and fears. "The room was all wavy, mom, you know like water. I couldn't breathe". In short, he had a panic attack--he woke up too soon--in all his flailing ("they had to hold me down, mom, I felt so bad!!! I'm so sorry!!!" bruises now understood) and emotion his IV got ripped out--and it was so securely taped in to begin with, I can not imagine how badly that hurt. He heard lots of beeping. Nurses were trying to calm him down and get him back to "normal"/stable. He felt bad. He kept telling them he was "sorry for being such a jerk". I kept telling him that is was okay. "That medicine just made you feel things and you reacted to what you felt. You weren't thinking with all of your brain, honey." He replied, "I didn't just feel them, mom, I saw my body." "You saw your body?", I asked. "Yes, I saw it--my arm was over here, and my body was over there!!!" He said pointing frantically in the air. "It was REAL!" I really wish I could have been back there... How absolutely petrifying that must have been for him. I would never have imagined to prep him for "wavy" hallucinations. Seriously...
Then it became more tears, shallow rapid breathing and "I can't do this", followed by, "it's not a choice, honey, you have to and you can." Followed by breaking my heart, "I was crying for you mom and I wanted you so bad. I was crying for you and you didn't come!" Followed by holding his hand (not being able to rub his arms as they were all bandaged and taped up) and letting him squeeze my hands as hard as he could. I failed. I promised I'd always be there for him. I wasn't. Huge fail. Gaping whole, chasm wider than the deepest pit fail... I know it's unrealistic and against all protocol, but I wish they would have come and gotten me. I know it's there job and they see it all--but it hurt to feel like I had let my oldest angel down so hard. It would have done NO good for them to get me. ZERO benefit. They know their job and are fantastic at it. I know this. If anything, it would have only made it worse. They would have had TWO completely hysterical and irrational people on their hands!
He kept feeling like he was going to throw up--crying, border line screaming. An hour of this. Yes, tears for me too. It completely sucked. Marty was quiet. Marty is never quiet. Griff thought Max was going to die. Here the Ipad2 came in handy again. Games and movies seem to side stream possible negative thoughts of your brother's well being. Griff looked at me, sighed heavily and said, "Momma, dis is weally hard on yittle bruvvers".
Max just wanted to go home. We all did. He looked way too big for that arm chair. And it was so COLD. He had blankets on and the chair was heated, but I had my hood on and was wrapped up tight(and I am fully aware of how much I looked like Justin Bieber, thank you, honey ;)). Finally we got the clear. I have NEVER been so excited to go HOME!!! Time to go get some pain meds and get the boys some food!!! Max hadn't had anything to eat since 8 p.m. the night before--G had, but he was STARVING too. Walgreens told us 30 minutes (it ended up taking 47, Marty started his watch as we were going to find the nearest McDonalds for shakes for the boys). The shake made him feel like he was going to puke again, and I was very thankful for the Target plastic bag we had in the van. Griff had no problem eating HIS ice cream and cheeseburger. Marty then stopped and got Max a slushie. That seemed to go down a little better. Apparently codeine upsets the stomach too.
What a ride. I am completely sincere when I say that giving birth was easier than that. Griffyn was very good. I had no idea it would be that long or that traumatic--or we would have asked Colleen for an extra day. G got a "yego guy" out of the deal, along with his ice cream, so he's "dood". And I pray to God he NEVER has to get his tonsils and adenoids out--because I'm pretty sure he's scarred for life... I have some tea. The boys are resting. I really want to, but I can't. Maybe I should try the codeine ;)...
So to those of you beginning the tonsil journey with an older child, I will never tell you it's easy. I will hope it is, for your kid and your sake, but I will never make it out to be a cake walk. There is no "cake" involved, and the ice cream that follows will most likely be regurgitated...
We are SO GRATEFUL and THANKFUL for all the sweet messages, notes, cards, gifts and prayers. Again, we have the most loving and thoughtful friends. We love you all. Max is worried about getting thank you's out in time, but I told him he had an extra week or so :). Mom and Stace, that's why he HAD to call you last night. He knew he wouldn't have a voice today. :) We are also very thankful for Dr. Schulte, the best surgeon, and all the lovely and wonderful staff at Lakeview Surgery center. Thanks for taking such great care of our greatest treasures. You guys are amazing!!!
Glad we are all home and that was the longest morning and afternoon, but we are so happy to be snuggled up in sunshine here on Lyle Murphy. I will crash at some point. But right now, Griffyn wants chocolate milk and a movie--and I will more than oblige him. God bless, and much love to you all on this beautiful day! We'll be here, just happily healing... :)
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| early morning with no sleep the night before~my Maxaroo before leaving for surgery... |
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