Tonsils, part 2

Will tonsillectomy went well yesterday and we're all home and trying to keep him comfortable. There's not a sleep going on for anybody except Reina but our little trooper is hanging in there. Except for the 30-minute negotiations* that take place every time it's time for another round of pain medicine, he's been a model patient.

As I predicted and feared, Will was not a big fan of being at the surgical center. He caught on pretty quickly that we were there for more than just a regular doctor's visit. When it came time to put on the little surgical gown, we had to bring out the big guns (The Mack semi-truck from the Cars Movie and the Lightning McQueen with whitewall tires, not to be confused with the 2 other Lightning cars that he already has - one with fake mud and the other one from the beginning of the movie.) and that kept him busy until it was time for the nurse to take him back. At that point, he really freaked out and one of the hardest things I've had to do as a mom was to unwind his little arms from around my neck and hand him to the nurse. The doctor told us later that Will just screamed "No shots! No shots" until he mercifully went under the anesthetic. Luckily, he doesn't seem to remember any of it.

The surgery only lasted about 45 minutes and the doctor came out to let us know that everything went well. Will was supposed to spend some time in recovery but the nurses had to come get us because he would not settle down long enough for them to check his vital signs. When we went back there, he was standing on the recovery table and yelling so loudly that there was no doubt his lungs worked. Some people get nauseous from anesthetic, Will apparently just gets really, REALLY mad. It took all three of us (me, Glenn and Pop-pop) to get him calmed down enough for the nurses to take the monitors off and remove the IV. Not surprisingly, we were discharged a few minutes later. I think a screaming 3 1/2 year old sort of impacts their ability to make it a peaceful recovery room for all of the other patients.

So now we're home, trying to keep him hydrated and pain-free and watching every movie made by Pixar and Disney in the last decade.

Will and his beloved "Lightning Truck." He really wanted this for Christmas and he was pretty excited when it showed up early.

File this one under, "anything you can do, I can do better." Reina's having trouble understanding why Will gets popsicles and pudding for dinner. At least she gets a spot on the couch too. She's being a pretty helpful little nurse though. This morning when she woke up, Will was crying pretty hard and we were trying to help him get the pain under control. Reina came trotting over, took her chupee out of her mouth, and offered it to Will. His response to her generous gesture? "But I'm not a baby!" Thanks anyway, little sister.

*The negotiations go a little like this: Offer, cajole, plead, beg, remind how it makes the pain inside his head go away, offer again, cajole, plead, raise voices, threaten, threaten again and then FINALLY medicine taken. Much enthusiastic "what a good boy!, yeah Will!, you are so brave!, etc.