The day of surgery he was scheduled to start at noon, but kept getting pushed back and pushed back, until 4 PM when they finally started. Max, David, and I spent a good five hours in a 8 x 8 hospital room with Max in preop. He was good for the first few hours watching TV while I did work and David did stuff on his phone. Eventually back got old. Things started to get silly. The boy hadn’t had any food for dinner the night before. We offered by this time he be well on his way to recovery. Find me when the doctors took him in he asked if he could walk to the operating room. The Anastasia Yala just was very kind to him, and told him that he could go however he wanted and that he had been very patient. So off walked about five doctors, my sweet nine-year-old little boy, and his daddy to the operating room. They said one of us could go back, and David is the one that can do these things without showing emotion. So I assume that’s what’s best for the kids at that point in time. Meanwhile, I headed to the waiting room alone, saying prayers for my boy.
David came out a few minutes later and said things have gone very well. The anesthesiologist were impressed with Max has one capacity. Apparently he has an excellent set of lungs and should either be a singer or professional screamer. We have seen the evidence of him being a professional screamer.
The surgery lasted a little less than an hour. We got back to see Max after he had started to come to. He was very groggy and confused. His arms were moving about on his face. I kissed him and ripped his hair and asked if he was OK. He told me he needed coffee.
At that moment in time to nurses turned to me and said what did he just ask for? I said he asked for some coffee. He said does he drink coffee? I said nope, never. But I think he feels the way he thinks I feel each morning when he knows mommy needs her coffee. Everyone had a good laugh over this, and we encourage Max to go back to sleep because he didn’t need to wake up right now.
But Max wanted some apple juice and some food and he wanted to wake up. No doubt he was confused because after the coffee, it came in a request for mommy to go have her hernia fixed now.
Recovery went well. He was able to keep down apple juice and goldfish and a popsicle before we left the hospital right around rush-hour. They don’t keep them long and postop care for outpatient surgery. I always wish that they would keep them longer.
Max did great on the ride home. By the time we were heading home he was asking what we were having for dinner and there were signs that he was moving in the right direction. I was pleased he never threw up.
When we got home his sisters had some presents for him. Gramma was also waiting to see how he was doing. He stayed on Tylenol and ibuprofen for less than 48 hours. The only thing left is to get him walking upright and not scared of using his abdominal muscles again. This part is still a work in progress.
I’m really proud of how he has handled this all. He goes with the flow, he is brave, and he keeps a good sense of humor at every turn. I’m so sorry he’s going through this, and I hope this journey of the surgeries over the next month will help us figure out how he can live a better quality of life.
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