Today is the day.
We leave for the hospital around 12:30pm for Tate's surgery. I missed the pre-surgery appointment, but luckily my mom was in town to accompany Tate and Jason.
I've told Tate what's going to happen today.
He's already been cut off of solids-- though we don't anticipate he'll be truly cranky about that until around noon. I'm planning (hoping) to blog later, after the surgery. We'll see how things go in the hospital, though.
Tate-- before the hunger hits. . .
On the way to the hospital. . .
Even though Tate hadn't had anything to eat since 6:30pm last night, he was in pretty good spirits-- bouncing and singing on the way to the hospital. Running all over the waiting room. Following bigger kids around.
When we were taken to the pre-op area, Tate continued to run a bit wild. He kept sneaking under the curtain to see what was going on in the rest of the pre-op area.
About an hour earlier than expected, Dr. Holmes appeared. His bilateral cleft palate surgery-- the one before Tate's-- had gone well and he was ready to get started. So we finished up the paperwork and off Tate went. That was really hard. It was the first time Tate has been handed off to a stranger of any kind in a strange place since we met him. And the squawking and the expression on his face as they were carrying him away-- it was terrible.
Ten minutes after we said our good-byes, our ENT was back in the waiting room-- ear tubes all in. All is good.
We grabbed some quick food, then returned to the waiting area. (There was a family there that was clearly very upset, and the one thing I did not want was to sit across from them-- because I was already feeling so emotional about Tate going under anesthesia.) We started up a movie, promptly fell asleep, and the next thing I knew, a nurse was calling our name.
We went back to the consult area, where we learned that everything was, as hoped, "routine," that the repair went well, and that we'd follow up with the doctor in a week. Back to the waiting room for what we were initially told would be another hour for Tate to come out of the anesthesia, we were surprised when, less than 20 minutes later, I was called back to the post-op area. This was because they couldn't calm poor little Tate down.
I admit, his appearance was pretty shocking-- bloodied, swollen, and clearly angry. I did my best, but I couldn't calm him either. So that told them it was pain and not concern causing the crying, and they gave him some Demerol. He fell back asleep until it was time to transfer to our room.
So here we are, in our room. It's a beautiful room. The nurses have been super accommodating. At one point, when Tate's vitals were being checked, he woke up really cranky. He really wanted my gatorade bottle-- so we got a bottle from the nurse, filled it with pedialyte and apple juice, and he gobbled it down. Then he had some gatorade, too. He was still unsettled, so we opted for some regular Tylenol (no codeine-- we'll see how it goes), and he fell back asleep. That he is eating so soon after surgery is a huge surprise-- and terrific news. He is still fussy and oozy -- and I know the hardest part is ahead of us.
Here's Jason squeezing the apple juice into Tate's mouth. And you can see the crook of Tate's hand-- it's like he's wanting to stick that finger into his mouth, as has been his habit, but he knows he can't get his hands in his mouth with the no-no on his arm.
Please keep sending up prayers or good thoughts or whatever your thing is for us, for a relatively painless and quick recovery, and for the grace to handle whatever comes our way. . .