The Lowdown on the Broncostopy

Yes I know, that is the catchiest title EVER. Thank-you.

Anyway. Since you all are dying to know (and by all I mean my very sweet Aunties) I will give the highlights from our trip up North and Spud's procedure.

As many of you know, my kids have GERD. Spud's is quite intense resulting in a three year old who sounds like a 45 year old with a 3 pack a day habit. It's cute, but the ENT wanted to see if the damage was such that it warranted further surgery. Thus a broncostopy, laryngoscopy and a couple of biopsies.

The party stared at 5:30 Tuesday morning as we had to be there at 6:45 and the hospital is right in the midst of a nasty mess of LRT construction. However, apparently the workers were still wisely tucked in their beds at that hour and we made it to the hospital in record time.

We were checked in by a model of efficiency (cough cough) with a lovely booming voice and then sent to wait. This waiting thing would become the recurring theme of the day.

Spud's vitals and stuff were then done by a very nice LPN and it would have been not at all noteworthy except for one little thing. He was a bit on the big side. His scrubs were not. There is nothing like a large section of hairy middle aged belly to start your morning off right.

Then we waited.

Two every nice ladies came to get Spud and I, they walked us to the OR section and deposited us in the (you guessed it) new waiting room.

However, it was here that I was reminded how good I have it. There was a couple who were waiting to have their 5 month old put in a body cast. That would be tough. Spud's thing, it's just a minor inconvenience.

So, then after we had enjoyed the amenities of room number two they put Spud out and mommy went to wait back in number one.

By this point I was raiding the diaper bag for snacks. I hadn't wanted to eat in front of Spud as he couldn't but now I couldn't leave to get me a muffin. And man did momma want a muffin. So instead I had a non-name raisin granola bar. Yee haw. It was either that or applesauce from a foil tube and I just wasn't THAT hungry.

Spud is not like either of his parents when recovering from G.A. He is not goofy, neither does he wish to sleep. He's just grumpy. VERY VERY grumpy. A grumpy that only a Popsicle will cure. It got to the point that I almost swiped a Popsicle from the baby next to us just to keep Spud quiet. I refrained however because his momma looked like she could take me.

Thus began another long period of waiting while Spud sufficiently recovered. I am certain that everyone else in the ward was delighted when we were finally free to go because when his mouth was not full of Popsicle it screamed. A lot. Almost never-ending. On and on. And on.

However, the grumpy wore off once we were out of the hospital and he was eating a strawberry milkshake. Currently my boy has no ills that food will not cure. May it always be that way.

By three that afternoon he was twirling around with a blanket on his head singing songs.

By six-thirty he and his brother were so active that the guy in the hotel room below us came up to complain that my kids were running and "annoying him." I almost offered to get the dude a Popsicle. Hey, it worked for Spud!

So, thanks for your thoughts and prayers, Spud is jsut fine and back to his normal self. Or as normal as my off-spring possibly can be.