Torture

Last Friday, I signed the dotted line that said, "Yes, I agree to allowing your doctors and nurses to torture my child while under anaesthesia, and then I'll take him home to deal with the aftermath." In other words, I signed Liam up for a surgery in which his tonsils and adenoids were removed, and his turbinates were coblated.

(Brownie points to anyone who can explain that last procedure without WebMD or any other internet tool.)

Liam was born with tonsils and adenoids large enough for a young elephant, if elephants have such anatomy. If not, then let's just say that his breathing has been very limited since he was quite young. Doctors had told me to wait and see if he would grow into them, but he certainly did not. Instead, his tonsils and adenoids continued to grow to the point that removal was necessary.

Here he is before the surgery:
He's on the giggly juice, which didn't make him any sillier than usual. He was very sleepy and couldn't lift his head off the bed or form any coherent words.

And after surgery, he was pitiful! He moaned in his sleep. It took me all of 0.2 seconds to start crying crocodile tears over him in his recovery bed. And he cried every time he awakened.
This picture was taken after THREE doses of morphine. It took all three doses to get him to stop crying and to suck on ice chips. And then he asked to play a game on Daddy's phone.

His recovery has taken us on a roller coaster ride. Some days are pretty smooth, and we're even able to go outside. Other days, I watch the clock to know when I can give him another round of pain meds.

On the first night, he whispered, "Mommy, am I dying?" Be still, my heart! "No, baby, you're not dying. I know you're miserable, but we just have to get through this recovery and you'll be so much better."

He's home all of this week per the doctor's orders. Lots of ice cream, juice, and video games.
He's such a trooper. In spite of the pain, he has still smiled every day.
As for his little brothers, they are their typical, busy selves. They fought so much yesterday that I sent them to their beds. Perhaps fatigue was part of the problem, since I found Garrett asleep.
How do you like those black socks with football pants and tennis shoes? Such style.

Jack didn't fall asleep that particular time. He has spent a lot of this week in his own little world. In fact, he was singing the National Anthem to his dinosaurs this morning.
Tomorrow I think we'll try to conquer some of Liam's homework, which includes writing a fractured fairy tale. Writing assignments are not my idea of a fun time, no matter the topic. There's a reason I taught math and science, people. I may need to sample Liam's pain meds while I torture myself in assisting him with his writing.