Leading up to Jack's surgery, we stressed a lot, worried about worst case scenarios, heard stories about how scary it is when your child gets anesthesia, all that. We gave Jack ice cream and gummi bears and all that, and told him that a doctor was going to fix his owies. Meanwhile, Emily was worried she was going to go into labor the night before or day of. I had images of Father of the Bride, either 1 or 2, I don't know which, where Steve Martin is running back and forth from his wife's room to his daughter's. Probably it was 2. Anyway.
We slept badly, then got up and entertained Jack until we had to go to the hospital. We had to be there at 8:30 a.m. The morning had a feel of wanting it to be over with, so we kind of just got ready and went, early, and were there. Paperwork, admitting, and then into a room. Jack wasn't crazy about it. Not surprisingly. We had to get him out of his clothes and into these little flimsy pajamas, which we later learned we put the top on backwards (with the ties in front), and they said, well, they'll come get you at 9:30. And then we sat on his bed and watched TV, and tried to act like we weren't worried.
They finally came around 10. I carried Jack, Emily walked beside us. Then we got to the operating room area and they let me and Jack go through the door and Emily went off to the waiting room. A tough goodbye. Jack and I were directed to a chair sort of in a hallway just off the operating room. The anesthesiologist who looked a lot like Jerry Seinfeld came out, asked us questions, I might have signed a form or something, so on and so forth. Seinfeld left and we sat there for another 10 minutes. Jack: "I want to go." Me: "Well, we can't, yet."
They came to get us and we walked into the operating room. Lots of big lights and equipment extending from the ceiling. Very X-Files-ish. Seinfeld was there and he told me to put Jack on the table. Jack was great, just lay there, trusting. Seinfeld commented on it. I held Jack's hand and they put the mask over his face and counted, and in less than a minute he was asleep. It wasn't as scary as I'd been told, actually. And they said, OK, he's great, you should leave now. And so I did.
Emily and I waited in this little room. Bad coffee. Bad TV. Bad magazines. Comfortable chair I guess.
About 45 minutes later, Dr. Peter walked through the door. He was only halfway in the door as he was saying, "Jack's doing fine!" Love Dr. Peter. Thank you for not being all, "Hi there, how are you doing? Emily, how's the pregnancy...."
We went into the post-operative (I guess) room to see him. It was big, with lots of beds -- really, it looked like something right out of MASH. Kind of scary, actually. Jack was in a nurse's lap in a chair (rocking chair? can't remember), kind of curled up. His back to us. Mostly hidden. He was awake but really out of it. We had been warned the anesthesia was very disorienting and stuff, but still. Scary. We both touched him, held his hand, talked to him. He was kind of like, "Mommy...ahhhhhnnn....Daddy....." Kind of not making a lot of sense. First Mommy held him, then me. They had me sit in a wheelchair with Jack on my lap, and then they wheeled us out of the room. We had to sit there for a good 5 minutes, with Jack moaning, while they filled out some kind of paperwork or whatever. I'm sure it was important, but geez, we didn't have to sign anything, get us out of there, please. So they wheeled us out of the room eventually, and all the way back to his room, where we'd started out.
We put Jack carefully on his bed. He wanted us with him. We all kind of squeezed onto the little single hospital bed together. Not easy. Plus he had the IV in, and various bandages and such, so we're trying to lie there without hurting him in some way. They needed to keep him there for a couple of hours after the surgery, to make sure he was OK. I think we watched some TV, and as he gradually became less disoriented and plaintive, we gradually calmed down and relaxed. He was OK, it was OK. And it was going to all be over.
And then they offered popsicles, and Jack -- starting to be himself again -- said, "A red one." And then: "TWO popsicles." And everything was fine.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
Grandma and Jack
OK, we've got a new baby, her name is Kate, and she's fantastic. And I still need to write about Jack's surgery, Part II. But this was too good not to write down.
With the baby, Emily's been in the hospital and I've been there a lot the last two days. Jack has, understandably, been off his routine....Grandma got him up yesterday morning and put him to bed last night, he went to Temple with the Rosenfelds on Thursday (while we were, you know, having our baby), and Grandma put him to bed last night. He woke up early this morning, he's a little off his game, missed his nap, we took two trips to the hospital, etc. Busy day.
So Grandma brought him home tonight and gave him dinner and put him to bed. Here's how it went, according to Grandma.
"We got home and I made him a hotdog and some macaroni ('What's that?' he said, so I called it pasta, and it was fine). And he also wanted applesauce. I said, you have to eat two hotdog pieces and two pastas. So he ate the two bites of hotdog, and a pasta, and said, 'Now can I have my applesauce?' and I said, did you have two pastas? and he said, no, I only had one. And I said, well. So he ate it, and I gave him his applesauce, and he ate it all and then he ate down his entire hotdog and pastas, and then he sat back and said, 'Holy Cow, I ate my whole dinner!'
"And then he sat back in his chair and said, Grandma, I'm sleepy. So, I took him right upstairs, and decided not to do the bath. And I was getting him changed in his room, telling him he's not going to have a bath, and he said, 'Do I get pajamas?' And I said of course. And then I was washing him off a little with just his diaper on, and he said, 'Do I get a new diaper?' and I said of course, and got him his new diaper and pajamas. And then as I was doing that, he wanted to sit on the potty. And he sat down, and then after a minute he said, 'Grandma. I'm very sleepy.'
"So we went into the bedroom and he was all ready for bed, and he said, 'No stories. Just songs.' So I started doing songs, and he was tired and falling asleep, so I was going to leave, and he put his arm around me and said, 'Don't leave yet.' And we were lying there, and the doorbell rang. (It was flowers from Robin, thanks Robin! And Mom and Dad yours came too, thanks!) And I said, well, I have to get that. And Jack said, 'I'll wait for you.'
"And when I went back upstairs five minutes later, he was fast asleep."
With the baby, Emily's been in the hospital and I've been there a lot the last two days. Jack has, understandably, been off his routine....Grandma got him up yesterday morning and put him to bed last night, he went to Temple with the Rosenfelds on Thursday (while we were, you know, having our baby), and Grandma put him to bed last night. He woke up early this morning, he's a little off his game, missed his nap, we took two trips to the hospital, etc. Busy day.
So Grandma brought him home tonight and gave him dinner and put him to bed. Here's how it went, according to Grandma.
"We got home and I made him a hotdog and some macaroni ('What's that?' he said, so I called it pasta, and it was fine). And he also wanted applesauce. I said, you have to eat two hotdog pieces and two pastas. So he ate the two bites of hotdog, and a pasta, and said, 'Now can I have my applesauce?' and I said, did you have two pastas? and he said, no, I only had one. And I said, well. So he ate it, and I gave him his applesauce, and he ate it all and then he ate down his entire hotdog and pastas, and then he sat back and said, 'Holy Cow, I ate my whole dinner!'
"And then he sat back in his chair and said, Grandma, I'm sleepy. So, I took him right upstairs, and decided not to do the bath. And I was getting him changed in his room, telling him he's not going to have a bath, and he said, 'Do I get pajamas?' And I said of course. And then I was washing him off a little with just his diaper on, and he said, 'Do I get a new diaper?' and I said of course, and got him his new diaper and pajamas. And then as I was doing that, he wanted to sit on the potty. And he sat down, and then after a minute he said, 'Grandma. I'm very sleepy.'
"So we went into the bedroom and he was all ready for bed, and he said, 'No stories. Just songs.' So I started doing songs, and he was tired and falling asleep, so I was going to leave, and he put his arm around me and said, 'Don't leave yet.' And we were lying there, and the doorbell rang. (It was flowers from Robin, thanks Robin! And Mom and Dad yours came too, thanks!) And I said, well, I have to get that. And Jack said, 'I'll wait for you.'
"And when I went back upstairs five minutes later, he was fast asleep."
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Surgery (Part I)
Last Tuesday was kind of a typical day with Jack. His school was closed all week, so we went to the beach in the morning. Emily and I had been going back and forth on whether we should see a doctor for what appeared to be an allergic reaction/rash he had. It showed up occasionally....didn't bother him, but it was noticeable. We thought it might be his sunblock, or strawberries, or prickly heat...whatever. Anyway, at the beach that morning it seemed worse, so I made an appointment for that afternoon.
We went to the doctor, and while she was checking him all over, she noticed a swelling in the groin area. She thought it was a hernia, but wanted him to see another doctor to be sure. She kind of shrugged off the allergies ("Keep a food diary," she suggested, "Or try Benadryl if it itches") which was just as well, since I'd totally forgotten about it too. Especially when she said if it WAS a hernia, he'd need surgery. All righty then.
We drove home, and I was kind of teary. My son needs surgery. Pretty scary. I was torn between regretting the visit which had dumped this in our lap and feeling lucky that we'd found out this way, and not -- as the doctor had said -- him waking up crying and in pain, which might have happened down the road. He, of course, was acting perfectly normal, wanting to play with the trains in the doctor's office, smiling and laughing during the examination, etc.
She had said she hoped the doctor would be able to see us to confirm her diagnosis by next week. By some weird coincidence, the doctor she recommended, one of the leading pediatric surgeons in Westchester County, turned out to be our brother in law's Dad's...well, kind of confusing, but he was Ian's Dad's cousin's husband. Or something like that. And he'd had Thanksgiving dinner with us. As a result, we were able to see him the next day, and yup, it was a hernia. Surgery scheduled for the following Tuesday. This office visit, Jack's second in two days, wasn't as much fun for him. Although he enjoyed playing with the toys (a little kitchen, some trucks, so on and so forth), he was a little wary of the doctor, who he didn't remember, of course, and the whole place was unfamiliar. Plus it was his naptime.
Anyhoo, we drove home, and that night Jack got ice cream, gummi bears, pretty much whatever he wanted.
There were some tears (ours, not his).
There were the various explanations to friends and family members (turns out it's the most common surgery performed on children, and even Emily's boss's daughter had had it done, by our surgeon, too!).
And on Saturday afternoon we went over to the neighbor's and Jack played with their son Max, and we told them everything, and we watched the kids play. And it was nice, you know, because it felt like the kind of thing that Jack should be doing -- not sitting around our house while we fretted and worried about him, worried about him suddenly saying his groin hurt or something.
And that's when we really worried about him having surgery. Because everything was supposed to be fine, but all I could think about was what if it wasn't.
So the next few days we basically spoiled him rotten.
To be continued.
We went to the doctor, and while she was checking him all over, she noticed a swelling in the groin area. She thought it was a hernia, but wanted him to see another doctor to be sure. She kind of shrugged off the allergies ("Keep a food diary," she suggested, "Or try Benadryl if it itches") which was just as well, since I'd totally forgotten about it too. Especially when she said if it WAS a hernia, he'd need surgery. All righty then.
We drove home, and I was kind of teary. My son needs surgery. Pretty scary. I was torn between regretting the visit which had dumped this in our lap and feeling lucky that we'd found out this way, and not -- as the doctor had said -- him waking up crying and in pain, which might have happened down the road. He, of course, was acting perfectly normal, wanting to play with the trains in the doctor's office, smiling and laughing during the examination, etc.
She had said she hoped the doctor would be able to see us to confirm her diagnosis by next week. By some weird coincidence, the doctor she recommended, one of the leading pediatric surgeons in Westchester County, turned out to be our brother in law's Dad's...well, kind of confusing, but he was Ian's Dad's cousin's husband. Or something like that. And he'd had Thanksgiving dinner with us. As a result, we were able to see him the next day, and yup, it was a hernia. Surgery scheduled for the following Tuesday. This office visit, Jack's second in two days, wasn't as much fun for him. Although he enjoyed playing with the toys (a little kitchen, some trucks, so on and so forth), he was a little wary of the doctor, who he didn't remember, of course, and the whole place was unfamiliar. Plus it was his naptime.
Anyhoo, we drove home, and that night Jack got ice cream, gummi bears, pretty much whatever he wanted.
There were some tears (ours, not his).
There were the various explanations to friends and family members (turns out it's the most common surgery performed on children, and even Emily's boss's daughter had had it done, by our surgeon, too!).
And on Saturday afternoon we went over to the neighbor's and Jack played with their son Max, and we told them everything, and we watched the kids play. And it was nice, you know, because it felt like the kind of thing that Jack should be doing -- not sitting around our house while we fretted and worried about him, worried about him suddenly saying his groin hurt or something.
And that's when we really worried about him having surgery. Because everything was supposed to be fine, but all I could think about was what if it wasn't.
So the next few days we basically spoiled him rotten.
To be continued.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Jackisms
Jack had surgery recently, but I'm going to blog about that another time. Some cute stuff to get to first....I'll call them Jackisms.
(After going to see boats with Grandpa) "I never seen a lot and lot of boats...I never seen so many boats!" (Holds both hands out for emphasis)
(The next morning after his surgery) "Some of them had masks....kind of scary." (Presumably talking about the doctors.)
(Also) "I'm going to call the people at the hospital who fixed me, because they found my bears." (Jack had been given a couple of little stuffed bears wearing 'Greenwich Hospital' t-shirts. Somehow, they'd been left in the room. I went back to the hospital later that night, after Jack had gone to bed, to get them.) "I'm going to give them to my sister. They're babies too."
(Told to me) "You have a bandaid. I have TWO bandaids. A big one and a small one." (Talking to mommy. OK, maybe everything he says isn't fascinating to everyone.)
(Jack asks about dessert.) Me: "What did you have in mind?" Jack: "Um...(smiles)...Green stuff?" (Lime sherbet.) "OK, Jack, I think we have that. And maybe there's a special treat, too." Jack's eyes get wide. "Do you know what?" Jack: "Um....gummi bears?" "That's RIGHT." Jack, like his Daddy, loves gummi bears.
"Help, the monster's coming!" (Laughter.) "Monster coming!!!!" (Runs across room, hides in corner.) Me (or mommy) "I'm not a monster, I'm your Daddy (or mommy)!" Not sure where this came from, but at some point Jack decided it was quite hilarious, if one of us was coming to put him to bed, or change his diaper, or whatever, to say "The monster's coming!" or "Monster coming!" It really is pretty funny.
Jack noticing Mommy's pregnant belly at the breakfast table. Big smile: "It looks almost like a ball!"
Jack has a Spider-man pop-up book (actually it's mine, but you know). Each page has little inserts that you can pull out and they have information about Spider-man, his friends, his foes. Jack's favorite part of the book is finding them and pulling them out. "This also gets out," he says. And then: "This ALSO gets out...." (Smile.) "This also gets out....."
Me reading a new book to him today, where the little yellow dog finds out that what he hoped was a big bone is actually a skateboard. "Phooey!" says the dog. This is apparently the funniest word Jack has ever heard. He cracks up. I say it again. Screams of laughter. And again. After a few more times, Jack, gasping with laughter: "Don't say it again!"
OK, tomorrow or the next day I'll write about the surgery.
(After going to see boats with Grandpa) "I never seen a lot and lot of boats...I never seen so many boats!" (Holds both hands out for emphasis)
(The next morning after his surgery) "Some of them had masks....kind of scary." (Presumably talking about the doctors.)
(Also) "I'm going to call the people at the hospital who fixed me, because they found my bears." (Jack had been given a couple of little stuffed bears wearing 'Greenwich Hospital' t-shirts. Somehow, they'd been left in the room. I went back to the hospital later that night, after Jack had gone to bed, to get them.) "I'm going to give them to my sister. They're babies too."
(Told to me) "You have a bandaid. I have TWO bandaids. A big one and a small one." (Talking to mommy. OK, maybe everything he says isn't fascinating to everyone.)
(Jack asks about dessert.) Me: "What did you have in mind?" Jack: "Um...(smiles)...Green stuff?" (Lime sherbet.) "OK, Jack, I think we have that. And maybe there's a special treat, too." Jack's eyes get wide. "Do you know what?" Jack: "Um....gummi bears?" "That's RIGHT." Jack, like his Daddy, loves gummi bears.
"Help, the monster's coming!" (Laughter.) "Monster coming!!!!" (Runs across room, hides in corner.) Me (or mommy) "I'm not a monster, I'm your Daddy (or mommy)!" Not sure where this came from, but at some point Jack decided it was quite hilarious, if one of us was coming to put him to bed, or change his diaper, or whatever, to say "The monster's coming!" or "Monster coming!" It really is pretty funny.
Jack noticing Mommy's pregnant belly at the breakfast table. Big smile: "It looks almost like a ball!"
Jack has a Spider-man pop-up book (actually it's mine, but you know). Each page has little inserts that you can pull out and they have information about Spider-man, his friends, his foes. Jack's favorite part of the book is finding them and pulling them out. "This also gets out," he says. And then: "This ALSO gets out...." (Smile.) "This also gets out....."
Me reading a new book to him today, where the little yellow dog finds out that what he hoped was a big bone is actually a skateboard. "Phooey!" says the dog. This is apparently the funniest word Jack has ever heard. He cracks up. I say it again. Screams of laughter. And again. After a few more times, Jack, gasping with laughter: "Don't say it again!"
OK, tomorrow or the next day I'll write about the surgery.
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