Tommy's Surgery

It was great relief mixed with anxiety and worry that we greeted today.  It has been months now that we have wondered how bad Tommy's hearing was.  Days and days of "what?" and "what did you say", days of loud tv, loud talking, repeated sentences and blank looks.  Tommy's teacher advised that he would often leave the group, table or activity when others joined him, and we wondered if the commotion, loud chatter and activity was just too much for ears that couldn't decipher anything.  On the playground she would call to him, but he would not respond unless she could catch his eye and talk directly to him.  If his back was to her, he could not hear her.  Finally, after all the worry, today was the day to get it addressed.  The day before we took him in for a tour of the surgery center, on the advice of the staff who thought it would be good to relieve his anxiety about it.  It somewhat backfired on us, as he was more worried and scared than before.  Grandpa met us there, which made it better, and like the great boy he is, he gathered his courage and walked back to the room.  I kept repeating the doctor's words over and over in my mind.  "It is a simple procedure."  I knew it would be no big deal, but when it is your child, and the doctor is saying to him, "I will be the one to put you to sleep and the one to wake you up", my heart lurched.  "You'd better believe you will be waking him up!" I thought, and tried to breathe again.  Getting him undressed was only successful after forcing the "sleepy juice" down his throat, and we had to chuckle when it finally started to work and he took on a loopy expression, big eyes and a dazed look came over him.  After that, he no longer fussed about the gown or the wagon ride.  As the nurse pulled him along, and the doctor walked beside the wagon to distract, we pulled away, hoping that our confidence was spot on.  Barely opening the new issue of People magazine, the doctor came back out.  "Wait, this is a new one!" I thought with a smile, but quickly put it down again.  It was that simple and that quick.  Walking towards the inner waiting room, we could hear screaming children that they warned us about.  Kids often wake up very unhappy, emotional and carrying on.  We paused to try to determine if we could hear Thomas, though I knew they would bring us back before he was fully awake.  When it was our turn to go back, we followed another set of parents on the walk back to the recovery rooms.  Seeing Tommy sleeping so peacefully was quite the sight.  He was so little, so still, so peaceful.  I touched him to assure myself, whispering to him that Mama was here, that we were with him.  Either my touch or the screaming child down the hall roused him, and he simply and gently woke up, looked around, cuddled up to my hand and flopped back down.  It was so easy, and I was so thankful that it was soon to be over.  He wasn't all that interested in the popcicle they offered him.  They don't know that Tommy has his own personal stash from Grandma that he can raid at his leisure.  After a bit of argument about the Lego that was his reward, he determined that the giant airplane Lego dad surprised him with was worth it, and we headed home.  Once there, Thomas was quite the entertainer as he struggled to walk on unsteady and loopy legs.  John had to guide him and hold him for a bit until the effects of the anesthesia had worn off.  A bit of an emotional ride passed quickly, and by afternoon he was good as new.  Two weeks from now we will take him back in to see if his hearing is restored.  I heard a few "whats" this afternoon, and I had to pause, but I will wait to see what these tests show, and pray that this procedure was all that was needed to have him hearing normally again.