Ear drainage is a privilege, it seems, not a right!

All was settling down in post surgery land, and then buddy got sick! He is stuffy and pissed. There is yellowish orange junk coming out of his ear. I look at said junk, turning it into the light hoping it is a smear of animal cracker or something less sinister. Nope, it doesn't look so good. I call the surgeon and wait and wait, did I mention wait for a return call. I pass the time with a very shallow soothing bath for him. I stuff his tiny ear canals with Vaseline covered cotton(so foul) and dip him in. Before mentioned cotton falls into the hearty inch and a half of water. I pluck it out and noticed it is a lovely orange shade. Definitely not the color of animal cookies! In a panic I call the pediatrician. My trusty nurse friend instructs me to bring him in, love her. She makes me feel so justified in my obsessive parenting! Finallllllllly the ENT office calls. She said she would have gotten on the phone if she knew it was a medical emergency. I thought the description of congestion with ooze coming out of his ears was a pretty good indicator that I was not looking to set an appointment, I need answers! We exchanged some boring banter where I said I was taking him to Dr. Worldsgreatestpediatrician," good, he'll know more about the congestion then we would." My mind is spun a bit! WTF, they are an ENT office! Isn't it kind of their area. It's not like I'm inquiring about hemorrhoids or something. I hang up feeling a lot better about not going to see them, a bit worried they cut into my kid in the first place. Looking in the mirror it occurs to me that I have not managed to squeeze in a bath in two days on account of being the mother of two sick kids, did I mention the older one is sick too, just my luck. I ponder if I could get by one more day, my imagination trails off. I see me running into the doctors followed by a pack of wild dogs, what an entrance! Hazmat arrives to evaluate the situation, news crews arrive since hazmat always draws a crowd. Yeah, this will definitely require more than deodorant. Desperate, I go in the kitchen and I drop the him in the mobile baby containment unit AKA walker. I ask my daughter to keep him entertained so I can get in the shower. I make it to the bathroom with the nimble swiftness of a ninja. Get in ,splash around,eye the razor, no time I'll wear jeans. Then I hear crying. Followed by more crying, wait it's getting louder! I open the shower door and look directly out the bathroom door to find buddy alone in the hall outside the open door screaming. What the hell is going on?!?!?! I rinse off, jump out, and yell for the deserter! No answer. Now I am a little worried. Kidnappers came and stole her. They had to abandon the baby in the hall because I opened the door, my God she's in danger!! I run to the living room, no danger, she's watching sponge bob. Now she is in danger! It seems that the unfortunate crying of her delicious baby brother kept her from hearing the TV so she drug him to the other room. He wanted me anyway! So now she won't be hearing TV for a week. We arrive intact to the doctor. I will spare you the next boring hour and a half. In conclusion mom was right, he has another ear infection. Good thing we just put him through surgery to prevent this little issue. Dad is not happy, belligerent and irate is a fair description. Me, I am exhausted, clean but exhausted.

I made it through D's surgery and he did great too!

My darling baby did so well with his surgery. I think I am the one that really needed to recover. It was so stressful. I have spent the past week making myself, and my husband, crazy. Wed. was the longest night. I lay in bed not able to sleep, wishing it was Friday already. Knowing that soon I would need to drag my delicious little boy from his snugly sleep and traumatize him. In reality it went pretty smoothly. Not as my wandering imagination had portrayed it at all. We arrived super early at the surgery center. He and our daughter where in delightful moods. He didn't even seem to notice the gnawing pit of hunger under his pajama top. A man came out into the waiting room and spoke to a waiting father while looking back and forth in my direction. He mentioned taking the baby first, to which I responded " are you talking to me too?" He laughed like I was a moron and said not to worry, it will be fine and strolled off. That is the strangest anesthesiologist I have ever met. I look at the father,since the doctor didn't really answer my question," Was that confusing to you?" He agreed that he wasn't sure what was going on since he was kind of talking to him but looking at me. I told him I was just waiting until someone actually called my kids name. Good idea I think. Name called! Darling D and I go in the back where I change him into a tiny hospital gown. Very disturbingly cute I must admit! They also give him red slipper socks that are more like thigh highs on his pudgy legs. Adorable! About this time the fore mentioned anesthesiologist comes in our little changing closet, the room was filling me with claustrophobia, and starts going over how many ear drops to put in his ears after the procedure and blah blah. I ask about pain relief since my daughter was given codeine after having her lip done. Hey throws his hands in front of his body,"no,no... that's not mine! I'm only doing tubes. He's not my patient!" He starts walking awkwardly backward away from me, " See I'm not crazy! That's why you weren't making sense to me in the waiting room", I call out to him. No response, he retreats to the hall, embarrassed I hope! The nurse comes in and I mention that the wrong doctor keeps coming in to talk to me, I am getting worried, wouldn't you. She says he is the other ENT. I mention he seems really nice ,internal thought " for a doctor that doesn't know his patients". I know I was surprised I didn't say it out loud too. I, my friends,am growing up! Now it is a waiting game since our real doctor is always late. It is almost compulsive! During the next hour the actual anesthesiologist comes in. He is a jolly guy that promises not to stick the buddy with needles, my new best friend. We go over the ridiculous family history and he compliments my thoroughness. I am never sure if it is truly a compliment or just drawing attention to my compulsive behavior. I then dance with the baby and sing to him. This activity is broken up by nurses coming through and playing with him, my boys a lady killer! They love to play in his fluffy mohawk. Finally he arrives! He calls out, " Who wants to go first", I yell,"Me" beating out the other two waiting families. Keep in mind I was prepared to wrestle for the position. Ok I do realize we were first since he is the youngest and I am the most annoying mom to keep around. Still I would have welcomed the distraction. Then the nurse wraps him in a blanket, I kiss him, he says my name and touches my face. Next time I see him he will have a fresh set of tubes and an enormously bruised lip.I manage to walk on rubber legs out to the waiting area. I sit through the longest 20 minutes of my life, choking back tears. The presence of my daughter does help since I don't want her to worry. The call out his name and I am up and running at the door. She asks if they are with me, who? Oh the rest of my family, forgot them! I nod, I think, " can they come too?" She says yes and starts giving some parking directions to my husband, something about a doorbell, who cares!!! Where is my baby??? I kind of push forward, " I'm sure he'll figure it out he's smart". I have tunnel vision. I hear her talking but have no clue what she is actually saying. My eyes are on a smiling tall lady holding my boy as his eyes go in different directions and his sweet head bobs around. I rush over. He puts his little arms out with slight coordination and lets out a raspy, "Mama"! I tear him from that ladies arms and hold him. I think I finally took a breath. We go into a group recovery area. She asks if I have any clear fluids for him or if I need juice. I tell her I intended to nurse. " Oh he will like that, let me get you a private room." Hmm, I like her. We settle in our private double closet and I nurse. He goes at it like he has never eaten, then he starts to scream! His lip is so swollen/numb/awkward he can't latch on right! He keeps trying, same frustrating result. He cries like I have rarely heard. I must look anxious because miss nice nurse looks in his file and tells me, " He shouldn't be in much pain. I checked and they gave him a suppository for pain relief. I think he's just disoriented." Or maybe he's pissed that you guys made him take a nap and stuffed something up his ass! My God they will do anything to you in surgery! She goes over discharge info, mentioning Tylenol. I look at the howling heap of baby in my arms, I think we will need more than Tylenol. I tell her the Dr gave baby girl Tylenol with codeine. She seems nervous," well I looked and it doesn't have anything else. I guess I could ask the doctor( while her eyes say please, don't make me do this!!!!)" " Thanks! I would really appreciate that" I am such a pleasant bitch. Lucky for her I saw him first and had the same conversation. He said "it would be his pleasure". See he's nice! He doesn't want my kid to hurt. Either that or he doesn't want me calling the office all day. So after a scream filled drive home we settled in. I put him in bed with me where he finally calmed down a bit and was able to nurse. He slept for two hours and woke very sweet and swollen. He looks like a little Jolie baby. He was still a bit disoriented and crawled into things but very pleasant. He is happy, medicated, but happy and so am I. Then it happens I talk to my sister. I mention the horrible suppository incident. I recall my vision of him in his little hospital gown and large socks sleeping unawares. Then they rip open his diaper and cram this thing up his tiny bottom! I shudder a bit. She laughs at me, " you know he was naked" NO HE WAS NOT!!! HE WAS IN A TINY GOWN, THAT'S WHAT THEY ARE FOR!!!!! More laughing at me. She by the way is a paramedic, but not a surgery technician so it's not like she really knows anyway! She asks her partner(at work, not a life partner. I would actually prefer she had a life partner then the guy she is married to though) what you wear when you have surgery. " Was he put to sleep?" She replies yes," Then nothing!" Lies all lies!!!! Why,why! She couldn't leave me in peace. I suppose the point of this story is that Baby D did fabulous, I barely cried, and watch your bottom in surgery!