On Thursday John had his surgery. I was more stressed than he was, and it all went well. He couldn't eat -except for Jell-o - for 8 hours prior to surgery and he did amazing. I tried to not drink/eat as well, because I felt so badly for him, but Mama needs her Starbucks, especially on a day like that.
We get to the hospital and get taken back into the pre-op area. They give John 'silly juice' which I think is kids speak for Versaid. They tell me it will make him sleepy and smiley. Maybe a little silly, hence the 'silly' in 'silly juice.' John takes the medicine without blinking and we wait for it to work.
And we wait.
And we wait.
Then he turns to me, grins and says, "Why am I in the bathtub?"
And we're off and running.
He is flipping all over the bed, attempting somersaults and high dives. He's laughing like a loon, drooling and asking a thousand questions. I'm trying to keep him seated and not laugh. He keeps kneeling and then putting his head on the bed, saying things like, "I so silly," and "What's so funny?"
A nurse comes by and since I'm sweating and trying to keep him safe, she helps. She tries to distract him while I take a breath and fix my clothes. I look at her and she's smiling, all calm and helping to keep John seated without batting an eye.
I narrow my eyes and say, "Is this normal? Because this isn't sleepy or a little silly." She smiles serenely and and says, "Well, there are two reactions the little ones can have. This is the other reaction."
I don't have time to think about it any more because John flips around puts his hands against the raised back of the bed and declares, "I'm going to climb this mountain!" Then drools on my hand.
When they scooch the bed to get to the seat belt he yells, "Why is the bathtub moving?!" As they put the seat belt on him and explain that it's just like buckling up for a ride at the fair, he throws his body against the bed and says, "VROOM VROOM! Why aren't we going??"
It was beyond amusing.
The surgery went well and they found just what they were looking for: two little nodules that cause his hoarse little smokers voice. The same thing Adele had.
To get rid of them they'd have to remove them, then put him on vocal rest and they'd go away.
He's almost 5. The doc and I snort at the thought of putting a 5 year old on vocal rest. So we're going to do something called vocal therapy, and eventually the hoarse quality to his voice will change.
Which makes me a little sad. I love the raspiness of his little voice. I know it's that way because of his reflux and the way he abuses it (have you seen the pics I put on instagram/fb of his tantrums? EPIC loud), but it's his voice. My little man. His little voice.