Even our Farrier, Marvin, was asked, when he pulled out a hoof knife to trim the horses. Most people thought James was nervous, and he was to some degree, but mostly he was excited. He wanted those things out. The bugged him, they hurt and they made him sick.
We arrived at Plains Regional Medical Center at seven in the morning. This is after we dropped the siblings off at Matt and Delane's house. They were thrilled to be spending the day with "the Lego Master" and "having special girl time". For those of you that saw the girls out having fun along Road S, Caitlyn was the one in the blond wig, Don't ask.
We arrived and waited only moments before our nurse, Misty, called us to the back. Misty is the daughter of a friend of a friend. While I don't really know her well, I barely recognized her. She had lost weight and was working as a pre-op nurse. She was fabulous. She was calm and caring with James and made a very special note that allowed him to see his tonsils after they were done. Many thanks to Misty.
The doc, Dr. Rowley, was great. With a cheery grin he told James what to expect and with no dithering or hesitation that could induce a case of the nerves, we kissed our boy and in he went.
Fifteen minutes later, I kid you not, out comes Dr. Rowley. He said, James did great. The left tonsil was rotted. Ewwwwwww. He said James took the gas, they put in the IV and took our the tonsils.
In post op we had another round of incredible nurses. Betty and Lorraine were our nurses and they quickly moved James from the gurney into my lap in a recliner. Ice chips and water were brought in, flashlight to check the swelling. James was encouraged and praised. My boy never cried. He walked out of the hospital with his daddy, and promptly asked for a smoothie.
Skip ahead to being home. The narcotic obviously wore off. Maybe I should have asked for a script!
James has reached the painful, I don't want to swallow phase. He is cold, but then again, constant fevers have robbed him of his fat. He requested a bat, my little man so like me. The comfort of being in water still was over ridden by the pain in his throat. He still had an hour to go before the next round of meds, at the earliest! We did ice. He cried and painfully swallowed. He did Popsicle, and he begged, no more. We did ice chips and he teared up. Yet each time, despite the pain, he managed to swallow. I know he is hydrated because he managed tears and the bathroom several times.
It pains me to see him this way. He is my plucky guy, my practical joker, my easy going man. I hate to see him like this.
And I hate that I have spent so little time with the rest of my kids. Will comes up to check on his brother, worry creasing his brow, but the promise of unlimited Wii play sends him back down. Conner comes up on constant food request.
And my dear Caitlyn balanced spending some time with James, fetching for him, and settling down for some iCarly, self sufficient and self content.
I need a nap, but I write this blog, instead. James snores gently beside me, the pain momentarily blinded by his sleep. Holly, naturally, is tucked next to him, her head protective across his shoulder. I pray that tonight the pain subsides, that he can find a smile for his daddy and that we will sleep.
In between the two hour intervals where I have to force liquids down him.
And how was your day?
