Addy recently went in for her 37th laser surgery at Children’s Hospital!  She had a blast.  And no Versed this time, so she remembered the whole thing.

I had lost track of counting these procedures somewhere in the mid-20s, so I was very glad when our curious anesthesiologist, having seen the volume of records in her file, took the effort to count up the number of procedures leading up to this one.  I’d been planning such an investigation but hated the thought (so much paperwork to sift through!), so it made my day to have the work done for me.  Thirty-seven!  How time flies.

It was a perfect day for Addy.  The routine was followed by all, and that made my organized eldest very happy.  We arrived early enough for her to spend a few minutes playing with toys in the waiting room.  The nurse called her back to the pre-op area and took her height and weight.  Armed with hospital jammies, Addy settled into her hospital bed and changed clothes so the medical stuff could begin.  “Here’s my arm, so can you take my blood pressure now.”  She played with her favorite Princess toys (yes, she has favorites here).  Everyone asked their routine questions: the pre-op nurse, the dermatologist, the anesthesiologist, and the nurse anesthetist. No recent colds, history of bleeding, only one slightly loose tooth (not enough to worry about).  Addy’s bed was wheeled into the O.R., she got a combination of bubble gum AND cherry flavors in her mask, and she went to sleep.  She woke up groggily in the recovery area (though with great manners, according to the nurse there), and was returned to me to spend the next hour de-fogging, nibbling on crackers, and eating three popsicles in three different bright hues while Disney Junior played on the room’s TV high up in the corner.

She thought it was a perfectly lovely way to spend the morning.

As her mother, I found it to be a bit more work.  Thinking about our anesthesia options; watching for any signs of a bad reaction somewhere; talking to the dermatologist about the degree of zapping we should try this time (too little means little progress, but too intense will burn patches of skin permanently); verifying the semi-loose tooth myself to see how much the anesthesiologist should concern himself with it; wracking my brain for any recent fevers in our family of five, because heaven knows my mommy memory is so short that my toddler could’ve been puking yesterday and I would’ve forgotten.

It all went smoothly.

Annnnd, not gonna lie, any time spent with only one of my three children is basically two-thirds of the way to a day off…  So I, too, thought it was a perfectly lovely (and refreshingly quiet) way to spend the morning.