Hanky at the Hospital


When the doctor told us that Henry would have to have a fairly routine ‘procedure’ done, I didn’t think much of it. As the time grew closer, the event grew bigger. It looked more and more like ‘SURGERY’. So the reality didn’t hit me all that much until Sarah and I found ourselves going to the hospital early Friday morning. We got to sit and wait and speak to a nurse for pre-surgery consultations, then wait in a play room, then get him wheeled over into another wing where the actual surgery would be. Met the surgeon and nurses. Then they said to say goodbye, and we had to exit the room right when Henry started to get fussy. He was crying from getting hungry, cause he wasn’t supposed to eat for hours before. Luckily it was timed in the morning when he shouldn’t have been to hungry right up until operation time. He was good all morning while we waited, so it worked out well. I realized just what a soft touch I am when we left. I had to choke back the tears.

Damon unexpectedly showed up just then. It’s good to have a good friend. He helped us kill the time by getting lost in the medical city labyrinth with us, and getting some breakfast. (A pretty impressive croissant, sausage and egg sandwich). The hospital has these cool airport-terminal-style screens up everywhere. You can look up your patient’s initials… and it tells you what stage of the process they are in. Pre-op, Op, stitches, and done. It’s pretty slick.

We met some moms and a dad in the surgery waiting room who have had a lot more problems with their babies than I could imagine dealing with. God bless them for being so strong. They were good people, though. It’s nice when the waiting room of cold, silent stares warms up into good conversation and some laughs. I always owe much of that to Sarah. Only about an hour and a half from when they started, the surgeon talked to us and showed us pics of how it went. It was a total success. Whew. When we were allowed to see him I could breathe again. And I wanted to weep again. Hanky was just comin’ off the drugs, still with I.Vs and wires attached to him, and pounding a bottle of apple juice. It wasn’t long before he was looking at us and playing. The nurse told us that his crawling will be rough for the rest of the day because the legs are the last thing to regain feeling. About 30 seconds later Henry pulled himself up on his feet. Standing and throwing things from his crib to the nurse.

We went home. Very relieved. Looking at Henry play around now, you’d never know he was under the knife anytime recently. Soon as we got home in fact. I know it is a pretty ‘routine procedure’, but you still can’t keep from thanking the Lord when your infant first born successfully comes out of anesthesia and going under the knife.