Our Darling Miss N had her tonsils and adenoids removed Friday. Since technically it’s now Sunday, I guess that means we have survived day one. It also means I haven’t slept since Thursday, so you’ll need to forgive any piss-poor sentence structure, swears, or incoherent babble. I’m not even going to touch how many times spell check has needed to be a thing already. Nope. Leaving that one alone.
There were a few surprises on our journey to Unlimited Popsicle Land that I wish we would have known…she’s allergic to morphine, for one. That little tidbit would have been cool to know in advance. She’s also one of the several million lucky ones that get what is referred to (by the Children’s Hospital recovery RN) as a “Sleepy Gas Rash“. In non-tiny-human terms…you put her to sleep-she breaks out in red splotches all over her stomach. Fun times.
She’s on a strict soft diet for the next two weeks. That includes no pills. None. Ummm…..not even the 3 too complicated for spell check keep-mommy-from-taping-you-to-the-wall-with-pink-duct-tape medications that she takes on a daily basis. You would think her Doctor would have mentioned that one. Oops.
The waking her up every three hours to pour liquid pain killers down her very red mouth hole has been fun. The two Baby Darlings are in their 9th month now, and I had forgotten what the up several times a night thing felt like….so, good little refresher course.
Our oldest Little Darlings skipped town. I would be mad at them- but if I were a 20 year old girl with somewhere else to go…lets be honest-my ass would be gone too. Our Darling teens managed to escape as well. Funny how that worked out.
Bright side, she seems to be taking it like a champ. I’m not sure if she’s ignoring the pain because the opportunity to live in Unlimited Popsicle Land is just too fantastic…or if she really is the rock star of tonsillectomies. That one is about a 50/50 I’m guessing. I’m sitting here trying to talk myself into waking her up to give the next dose of medication. There’s a checklist you know…with times on it. Highlighted. In multiple different colors. Just in case the bright ass highlighter yellow wasn’t enough to get us motivated to follow directions.
Mr. Goofball is passed out. To be fair, he does have to take Darling Miss A to karate tomorrow morning and I don’t, so I guess that’s okay. He’s also usually the one to get the 3AM change-your-butt-here’s-your-bottle-go-back-to-bed mini bonding moment with the twins….which I don’t tell him nearly enough I REALLY appreciate.
That damn checklist is haunting me. Being fully comfortable in my bit of OCD skin, I know I’m going to have to look at that thing in the morning and see a missing check mark. I should be thinking about the pain Darling Miss N could be in if I skip a dose…but I’m pretty confident she’s okay. Not so sure I will be if there’s a missing check mark. Like I’ll loose my Mom badge or license to drive a mini van if it’s not there. Well, shit. I guess I had better go pour the goo and try not to fall on my face breaking through the minefield that is her room.
Just one more day. Just one more day. Just one more day.