With a check in time of 10:30 a.m. and a typically voracious eater, we were understandably concerned about the whole "not eating breakfast" thing. Concerned would be an understatement. I was dreading it. During the pre-op call, we were instructed that he couldn't have anything solid after 4;15 a.m. and no clear liquids after 8:15 a.m. Believe it or not, we actually woke him up and gave him yogurt at 4:00 a.m. Not sure this was completely necessary but figured getting something in his tummy couldn't hurt.
We arrived at the Seattle Children's Outpatient Surgery Center in Bellevue at 10:30 a.m. I'm sure there are a lot of great places to take your children for surgical procedures but Seattle Children's is top notch They aren't just pediatric specialists. They get kids. And they get how to put them at ease. And this starts the moment the elevator doors open to the surgical floor. Our check-in was quick and the wonderful woman checking us in was attentive to my son, not just having me sign the typical forms and procedural steps. She even gave his favorite stuffed animal an ID bracelet that matched his. Needless to say, he got a big kick of an ID bracelet on his walrus' tail.
Minutes later, we were called back by a nurse and we were immediately greeted by his 3 person anesthesia team; which included an anesthesia student, an anesthesia tech and the anesthesiologist. They immediately started playing with my son, giving him high fives, low fives, etc. and gave him the mask to play with filled with the root beer smell he had picked out. All three were engaged with us on some level. While one was playing with him, another would be asking us the usual questions; like family history of anesthesia reactions, last time he ate, etc. Given our son's pretty dramatic wake up from his ear tube surgery two years prior, we spent a lot of time talking about the go to sleep and wake up strategy (Side note: there was nothing abnormal about his wake up from his first surgery, but he screamed and flailed for 40 minutes before the rational part of his brain woke up. Definitely an experience were hoping to avoid again). The anesthesiologist offered an alternative that would slow his wake up time in recovery but would hopefully decrease the agitation.
After that it was just the basic "get yourself ready" for surgery procedures. He got dressed in a gown, we answered more questions, and the dr came by to visit. Seattle Children's allows parents to be with their child when they are put to sleep so all of this takes place in an Induction Room. The room has your typical medical equipment but it is also littered with distractions appropriate for children. A movie playing, a Nintendo DS, toys, etc. Before we knew it, it was time to go to sleep. My boy decided he wanted to watch a movie, play a DS and hold our hands while he went to sleep. Quite the multitasker. He did get a little upset when the gas came on. Ironically the only tears we would end up seeing the entire day. But after a few tearful breaths, he was asleep and we were quickly ushered to a private waiting room.
And this is where mom fell apart. I've seen it twice now but there really isn't anything like watching your child be put under anesthesia. Your brain knows it is the right thing to do and that it is relatively safe. But watching your child go limp and know that a breathing tube is about to be placed stirs up emotions that surprised me. If I had the choice, I would still choose to be present for it because I feel like it helps the child but it is pretty uncomfortable to watch... to say the least.
20 minutes later, the doctor came to our waiting room. Procedure went well, tonsils were large enough to feed a family of four (his words, not mine) and then he made some jokes about a guy in the waiting room wearing a University of Oregon shirt. We are all Huskies so bonded in our collegiate commonality. Another side note: my son's doctor, Dr. Andrew Inglis, was just voted one of Seattle Top Doctors of 2012. I imagine it is because he is an amazing surgeon and other notable accomplishments. But he's also human, explains things in layman's terms and brings parents back to the big picture. In those moments, I appreciated the Oregon Duck humor.
20 minutes after his visit, we were escorted back to the recovery room. Based on our last experience, we were expecting to be greeted by a screaming and agitated child. To our surprise, he was sitting up in bed, being fed an otter pop by the recovery nurse. I can't say he looked comfortable, but he was calm, alert and happy to see us. All three members of the anesthesia team quickly checked in on him and it was all I could do not to jump up and hug them for making his wake up experience so much more positive.
I immediately the got the silly sign for "it hurts really bad". Since he was already full of medication, the nurse got him to focus on eating the otter pop for relief. He quickly remembered the present and did the silly sign for "I want my present now". Which looked something like a monster roaring. He was ecstatic with the BeyBlade and the stuffed sock monkey. Seeing his delight, the nurse brought him another stuffed animal as a gift from Seattle Children's for being so brave.
Once we determined that he wasn't going to be sick to him stomach, his pain seemed under control, and we was able to take in liquids, the nurse removed his IV. My boy was anxious to get out of there! In his morphine induced slurred speech, he begged to get dressed, collected his menagerie of stuffed animals, and asked for his wheel chair ride to the car. And just like that, less than two hours after we we walked in the door, we were headed home to start his recovery.
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