Recovery

Yeah, we're starting a trend here. Lucy wanted to keep them, but the stinky doctor said no. It's a good thing we KNOW (read in snotty, we know the doctors kind of a way) the anesthesiologist. He obliged our sick requests with this pic. Thank you Dr. Rob!

Lucy had a tonsillectomy. I've been camping in her room for the last three days. Here's my thoughts on it so far:
Hey - who's the jack wad with a stethoscope who repeatedly told me Lucy could have whatever she wanted right in front of Lucy? Since when does Lucy listen so well? "Mom, wake up. Its 4:30 am and the doctor said to keep ahead of the pain - whatever that means and I need my meds because the last dose was at 12:30 a.m. And I need to take it with food because the doctor said so. How about we start with apple sauce and go from there?"

Sweet - this is how tweens get hooked on drugs. Silly me, I naively thought it would be the 8th grade Prince Harry look-a-like pushing drugs on the graffiti-ed playground. But no - it turns out they start them way earlier with "liquid kiddie whatever flavor you want, hun" hydrocodone. It turns out - you really do have to stay ahead of the pain.

Drugging my child to a cloudy oblivion kinda started to wear on me - so I held back on day 3. But then what with all that "anything you want to eat" shuttling to and from grocery store and then up and down the stairs in and out of the dishwasher.

It's starting to get to be a bit much. I suppose I should be happy she's eating at all. She wants spaghettios, but make sure they're heated up better and then I would like more than the last time you gave them to me. I troop downstairs with the latest request and find Ricardo confused in the kitchen.

"Babe, where's all the spoons?"
"Lucy used them on her half eaten food items."
"ALL of them!?"
"Can't talk now. Must relay her latest demand."

With all that - I forgot to give her meds at all. When she started to mention that it felt like there was an ice cube In her ear and it hurt so bad- well that darned jack wad who was probably right with all that experience and all - her words rang through my head "stay ahead of the pain." Shit. Its gonna be a long night. Due to the guilt fest, I guess I sleep on the air mattress in her room one more night, for forever.

We have 3 separate pints of sherbet, 2 cases of popsicles, 27 (I just counted them out) individual packages of tapioca pudding, 12 apple sauces, and 12 more squeeze apple sauce things - in the fridge and Lucy wants ice cream.
"Vanilla ice cream in a cone."
"Baby - you can't have a cone."
""Ok then I'll have it in a cup."
"Okay - let's go."
"Will you go get it and bring it to me?"
"I can't babe - dad's not here to watch you."
"Well I'll just lay real still, Mom."
"No."

She did her pouty face and started in about that whole ear thing from lack of staying ahead of the pain and all.

I replied what any enabling parent would do when faced with an obstacle of not being able to enable. I called JullzHOLLA! who had been here twice already with pudding and apple squeeze sustenance. (Y'all didn't think I'd buy applesauce in a squeeze bag did ya?)
I left her a voicemail in my best, please read this tone as it sounds and help me not lose it on my recovering daughter voice.

And what does my enablee do? She wants me to email her, leave a text, and call her home. That's when I got a little stern. I held back as much as I could.

Ice cream - now upgraded to FRENCH vanilla and is on its way. JulzHOLLA! will bring it and a little refreshment of patience and virtue for me. I'm sure of it.

After JulzHOLLA! leaves, I fill 2 more orders from Lucy. Each time, she tells me sincerely "Thank you, Mom."

Later, as she lays there, not even on a commercial while she watches the Disney Channel, she looks over at me and sweetly proclaims, "I love you." It's not followed with any other demand. Then I notice her swallow and wince. Since she's recovered so well, I've forgotten why I'm here in the first place - to simply soothe and comort. And fetch. I remember all the times I've ever been sick and needed someone to make me toast with butter on it, but don't skimp on the butter, and make sure you butter all the way to the edge. It's the only way to make the toast crust bearable.

I remember all the times I get chicken soup served to me, but it's too hot, and so I wait, but between wincing in pain and sleeping, it's too cold, and I just opt to not eat it. Or when the pillows aren't working, or it's too hot. Then it's too cold. That's just when I'm sick. Lucy lays here next to me with tonsils removed via fiery laser.

It's 10:30 at night. Lucy has just requested apple juice. She has a Sprite, a water, and a half eaten tapioca pudding sitting next to her but she wants apple juice. In order for that to happen, I've gotta go down to the basement and get a juice box, then crawl back up all those stairs, get a cup poke the hole in the juice box and squeeze it into the cup. It's like twice squeezed apple juice, y'all. I've gotta do all that because straws aren't recommended for tonsillectomies. But soothing is. So, I do it.

That's how I roll.
Song of the day: Thank You by Dido