the waiting is the hardest part

Last week I took Miss 4 to the ear doctor

She’s had tubes put in her ears before

And it seemed like she was going to need it done again (they fall out after a while and a lot of kids need to get them more than once)

Her hearing was deteriorating & her speech had regressed a little

The doctor recommended that this time, he take her adenoids out as well

It seemed to be part of the reason for the fluid in her ears

And all of the reason that she snores like a truck driver after a 12 hour drinking binge

So today was the day

For the bilateral myringotomy & adnoidectomy

Or in layman’s terms

The tubes in & the adnoids out

I know it’s a ridiculously short & simple procedure

But it stresses me

I don’t get anxiety

I think you have actually give a shit, to suffer from anxiety

I guess today I gave a shit

‘Cause my anxiety level was PEAKING

For those of you who have ever had a sick kid

And I’m not taking adnoids or ear tubes

I mean like, SICK, sick

Life threatening, emergency stuff

Do they give you guys a medal when it’s all over?

‘Cause they fucking should

You are the trojan-hercules-brave-heart-mofos of parenting

I don’t know how you do it

But you do

And I take my bra of to you

‘Cause I don’t have a hat on

And now I don’t have  a bra on either

Anyhooo

Miss 4 was totally psyched about going to the hospital

She remembered it was fun last time

When they put the tubes in

And didn’t hurt a bit

Which is why I chose NOT to tell her about the little adenoid-removal-thingy

Last time it was just a twilight sleep, this time she was going under

And Mama was stressin’

They gave her the pre-surgery medicine

Which is awesome

She get’s all giggly and nuts

Like she was before I guess

Times two

Then they wheel her off in the wagon (her favourite part)

Then I spend the next 45 minutes biting my nails, drinking coffee & trying to not obsessively watch the clock

And try to not get pissed off at the genius who designed the hospital without a fucking pub in it

.

I had brought along more stuff than I take with me on tour for a month

All my ‘just in case’ supplies

Spare clothes, in case we had  to stay longer than planned

Food, in case we had to stay longer than 10 minutes

Laptop, in case the world ended (so we’d be buried together)

15 magazines, so I didn’t have read the ones in the waiting room that are usually years old and covered in hepatitis

Makeup, so I didn’t scare anyone because dude, I left the HOUSE, hello?

More food, in case my first stash ran out

And half the contents of the girl’s toyroom – to make sure I had whatever she wanted when she woke up

I possibly overpacked

I didn’t use any of my stuff

I just sat in the chair and waited

And Miss 4, who’s last words before she went to sleep were

Do I get a treat after this? Can it be FOOD? I don’t want a sticker, OK?

Woke up asking

Can I get that food now? How about a Happy Meal, with fries? No? OK then, I’ll just take a peanut butter & jelly sandwhich

So yeah, it all went fine

Just like everyone told me it would

Here’s hoping that neither of my kids – or any of yours – ever require surgery again

EVER

With the exception of removing my foot from their arse when they’re teenagers cutting the apron strings

Like THAT’S ever going to happen

Apron strings FOREVER, I say!