Sliced and Diced

Yesterday, at the crack of dawn and with no food in our bellies (one doctor-ordered, one nerve-induced), I took Henry to have a very large birthmark/mole thingie surgically removed. We checked in to the surgery center and had a little meeting with the plastic surgeon, followed by a pill to calm the nerves and relax before the surgery.  I then asked if there would full sedation along with the pill and they shook their heads, a little sadly if you ask me, and said, "Sedation is only for your child, we aren't authorized to administer anesthesia to parents."  Jerks!

We got to the pediatric pre-op area where we were to wait for about 45 minutes and there was a toddler behind a curtain screaming. And screaming.  And screaming. And screaming. "Can you just go ahead and give me the gas now?" Henry pleaded with the nurse.

Everything went really well, I held his little hand while they gave him the gas and he was asleep in about four seconds. I went to the waiting room and they called me back when he was done. Recovery was a little rocky, but he DID NOT BARF.  Woot! He was pretty sore and woozy last night, but woke up this morning raring to go, so I let him make his own breakfast. This turned out to be a mistake.  Apparently, there's a reason he's not supposed to move much for the next week. I won't say what happened, but the word "oozing" comes to mind.

Jack is home from school sick today, so he's been helpful in keeping Henry still by playing video games with him. It's a hardship, I know. One thing I can say with absolute certainty is that, unlike when the girls are home sick, we won't be watching Pride and Prejudice (BBC version) or Little House on the Prairie.  Dang.