He was originally scheduled for surgery at noon. Then they told him to come in a 1:00pm. And of course he can't eat or drink anything after midnight so by the time 1:00pm rolls around, he's ready to gnaw on his arm.
We check in, he gets all prepped and put in his cute little hospital gown, booties and a dapper chapeau:
He gets hooked up to his IV and then...we wait. And wait. And we wait some more. At 3:00pm, he gets wheeled to the pre-op waiting area and talks with his doctor and the anesthesiologist. He gets a shot of something and is off to LaLa Land. Which was good because he was a nervous wreck this time.
FINALLY, at 4:00pm, which, if you do the math, is a whopping FOUR HOURS later than the original surgery time, they tell me to wave goodbye to my little boy and off he goes to surgery, to go Under the Knife.
By this time, I'M around ready to chew my arm off so I figure I'll walk somewhere (I didn't want to lose my parking spot) and get a bite to eat. And I look in my wallet and there's a whole two bucks in there. Which would be enough for a bottle of Two Buck Chuck (if I drank wine...which I don't) but not enough for a meal.
Of course I would arrive at the hospital for my kid's surgery without any money. Especially since I knew I would be there for hours. So why bring money? Especially since the cafeteria is right next to the lobby/waiting area and smells of food would waft out every time someone opened the door.
Which meant, if I wanted food, I had to go somewhere that took plastic. Which narrowed my choice to MickeyD's. Yay.
To make this day go even better, my phone decided to be a dick. I could not get internet, even with the hospital's free WiFi, which meant I could not amuse myself on Facebook or even play Words With Friends (if anyone wants to play, I'm "Another Kelly" and I'm terrible at WWF so it'd be an easy win for you. Just sayin'). After sending and receiving a couple of texts, the battery decided to roll over and play dead. All in the space of about 3 hours. Which is ANOTHER reason why I hate my phone and am counting the days until January 2, 2012 when I can upgrade.
Nothing like going off on a tangent about my stupid phone. Again.
Back to Thing 1.
An hour and a half after he went Under the Knife, his doctor comes out and tells me everything went well, the screws and wire holding his kneecap together were removed and repairs were made to damaged cartilage and ligaments and someone would come and get me in about 45 minutes.
Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Thank God I had my Kindle since I couldn't play WWF. And in the time I sat waiting for someone to come and get me, I read 75% of a book before my eye began to twitch and the room, to pitch.
An hour and a half later, I went up to the desk and asked if I could see my kid. He was finally brought in and we spent the next hour and half waiting for painkillers and also for him to pee because they wouldn't release him until he peed. Both boxes were finally checked and he was wheeled out to the car.
By the time we got him in the car, the painkillers were in full effect and I believe his exact words were, "I'm higher than a kite." And his next words were, "I think I'm gonna puke."
I got him home without incident and put him to bed.
And to give you an idea of just how high he was, he invited his sister, Thing 2, to sit and watch the Country Music Awards with him.
And they kept up a conversation the whole time without a single, "No, I hate YOU!"
Of course, that sibling love faded as soon as the meds wore off and things were back to normal.
Well, as normal as it gets when your teenage son is literally crying because the pain in his knee was so bad and the painkillers had as much of an effect as baby aspirin?
So guess who had to call the doctor and get a new prescription for The Good Drugs?
And his doctor, bless his heart, included a prescription for a little something to keep the plumbing working, to keep things movin' and a-shakin', to make sure he doesn't plug up, if you get my drift.
And I'm sure he'd be just thrilled to know I included that part.
Thing 1 is ensconced in bed with his TV remote, his XBox 360, his iPod, his laptop, his cellphone AND a big empty jug. And I'm sure he'd be just thrilled to know I mentioned that last item.
And with all that stuff at his fingertips, the hard part will now be getting him up and moving.