We were admitted in the evening on Monday (12/16) and mostly spent that whole night waiting for someone to put in an IV. Teddy’s, uh, got a reputation. For being adorable and actually VERY cooperative, but for having extremely challenging veins. So there’s a really short list of people who can/will start an IV on him. And, happily, everyone adheres to a “two tries and I’m done” philosophy, which I agree with, but which also means that after two tries, we have to figure out who else to call. So, it took three tries, two different people, and a good number of hours waiting, since we arrived just before shift change.
We also spent some time chatting with the Vozzas, who were there for Cooper’s transplant – exciting!!
The OR staff came to get us right on time, and right after they came for Cooper. And they put us next door to Cooper in the pre-surgery waiting area, as well. At this point, I started to feel a bit like a creepy stalker.
An hour and and half in the small pre-surgery waiting room with a toddler who *must* explore is a challenge. He did NOT want toys. He didn’t want Dora (who he’s adopted from Genna). He didn’t want snuggles. He wanted O-U-T that door. Fortunately, he couldn’t quite figure out how it worked, but he kept sticking one arm or the other out the crack between the door and the wall and strrrreeetchiiiingggg as far as he could. Then he started smooshing his face on the glass and flirting with the women who work in the area. Then he decided to see what was in the cupboards and drawers. Then he decided to investigate the other door – the one that he actually could open. Oops. Oy.
They let me take him back, and they also let him bring Dora. He hated the gas (of course) but he surprisingly did NOT flip out when we walked into the OR room. Every other surgery (that I’ve taken him back for ), he’s just lost it when we walk into the OR – like scared, desperate animal clawing to Run Away. This time, he was really just looking around. I suspected he was plotting the fastest route through the room to cause the maximum amount of destruction before getting caught.
So I ran over to PICU quick to take some stuff to Jamie and was happily surprised to see Blake was extubated and to learn he’d be losing some of his lines later that day! Yay!
Back in our room, the surgeon stopped by to tell me: 1) he had “impressively large” tonsils, 2) the surgery went fine, 3) he did NOT have any more fluid in his ears Good all around.
Then one of the nurses ran in about a half hour later to say “ohmygosh I forgot to tell you PACU called!” (PACU is Post Anesthesia Care Unit) They had called to say T was there and I could come up. Um, like five minutes ago. So when I got there, I could hear Teddy down the hall and through two sets of doors, and that was with a very sore throat. He had four nurses trying to calm him down.
Teddy does *not* wake up from anesthesia well. I mean, he just doesn’t. I thought it was normal, but several floor nurses have now told me that Teddy seems to them to have a particularly bad time. Not physically – he wakes up beautifully, always has. Just it’s hard for him – he’s very very very mad. Very upset. And he takes a LONG time to perk up.
At that point, he opened his eyes, sat up, climbed down from the bed, and ran for the toy room. lol. He didn’t last long, though.
We stalked Facebook for Cooper updates all day, and eventually ran into Katie and Rob moving their stuff down to the PICU. His transplant went great! Yay!
So… then Teddy got a fever, which as it turns out can be normal for after a tonsillectomy. We watched it and it stayed low-grade, so we went home the next day on the 18th, where we watched his fever go up and down and up and down and up and down…
stay tuned for Part II of this story, lol. (I’ll give you a hint: We’re back in the hospital.)