Can we just talk about what a little champ my guy is? SUCH. A. CHAMP.
Henry went in for orchiopexy surgery last Tuesday morning at 8am. Despite not eating anything since dinner, the bugger was a champ. In fact, I think he was actually having a pretty great time for a while there.
That is, until they put the hospital bracelet around his ankle. Let’s just say, Hem was NOT a fan. This is not even a little surprising, though, as he can’t handle a collar touching his neck or any weird laying clothing.
Shortly after the ankle bracelet, Henry was given an oral medication to calm him and get him all zonked before anesthesia. It worked. He was SO loopy and heavy-headed. He laid on mommy, with stickers in one hand and daddy’s phone playing “Let it Go” (on repeat) in the other hand. Every so often, he’d lift one of his hands to rediscover what he was holding, as if he had no idea.
During this time, the surgeon came in to chat with us and then the anesthesiologist. If I’m being totally honest, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the anesthesiologist’s bedside manner. He seemed like a very nice person, but just seemed to approach all discussion topics with a sense of drama-building urgency. I asked if he would have a pain block of some sort and he explained that sometimes they give a baby epidural. Clearly, my face grew panicky because he confirmed whether this was something we were comfortable with. Mark and I both agreed that we wanted him to do what was necessary to keep Henry comfortable.
Then, they carried Henry away. While I didn’t cry, I did spiral into a deep, internal panic. On the outside, I was pretty silent, except to mention hear or there how I thought I might throw up.
The doctor and nurses had told us the procedure would take about an hour. At the hour and 10ish minute mark, the Surgery Waiting Room Receptionist came running towards us with a cell phone. She handed me the phone. It was the anesthesiologist. I panicked. “Is everything okay?!?!?” He nonchalantly said, “oh, yeah. The doctor discovered hernias, so he has to make more incisions (4 total). I’d like to give Henry the epidural, but wanted to check with you because you seemed unsure.” Me: “If that’s what he needs, yes. Please give him the epidural.”
In my head: WTF, DUDE? You scared the crap out of me with this running cell phone nonsense! I told you to do what was best for my child!!!!
The surgery lasted about another hour when finally the surgeon came out to tell us that everything had been resolved. They had also tested Henry’s pee stream and ended up having to make a 2mm cut to his urethra, in addition to the removal of circumcision adhesions.
All in all, the buddy was pretty roughed up down there.
When Henry finally woke up, they said he lifted his IV’d arm slowly, looked at them, and called out for mommy. Of course, the second he saw me, he started to cry. I scooped him up and didn’t let go until we left the hospital around 2:30.
When we got home, the most difficult thing right away was trying to wrangle him. Because of the epidural, he didn’t have full control of his jello legs, so he was flopping all over the place… but of course, he didn’t want help walking. After his nap, he was back to his old tricks.
With that said, he was medicated with an alternating cocktail of oxycodone (only at night for the first 2 nights), ibuprofen and tylenol. By Sunday he was totally off the meds (so 5 days total).
Truly, the worst part was diaper changes. I guess that’s obvious. But, oofta. Mark worked from home the day after the surgery, which was nice… but of course, it wasn’t until 2 days after – when mommy was alone – that he really let those poops go. Oy!
Thankfully, he is getting better every moment and will be back at school tomorrow! PHEW! What a whirlwind.