Surgery, Part II

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.