Anesthesia took a listen to Y’s chest and said they were absolutely confident about doing the surgery today, so we went ahead. Y was a complete champ, letting the nurse anethesists take him away from me without a wimper (they did sing “follow the yellowbrick road” all the way down the hall). Let me tell you, that was the hardest thing, letting them take my baby away from me and towards a potentially dangerous situation. It was all I could do not to A: break down in tears, B: tear off down the hall after them and demand to observe the procedure, or C: tear off down the hall after them and snatch him back and run as fast as I could in the direction of the EXIT signs. However, I did none of the above, just sort of went back to the waiting area and prayed until they came to tell me that he was all done.
I would like to say that Y woke up all loopy and happy. I have to admit that I was kind of expecting this (despite years of experience with very pissed off animals waking up from surgery) because the anesthesia people tell me “well, usually they wake up in the same mood as they do in the mornings, only intensified”. Y is always happy when he wakes up in the mornings, so imagine my surprise when I walk into the recovery room and he’s bawling while slinging his head around in every which direction (of course safely in the arms of the nurses). He continued to cry for about 45 minutes, pretty much inconsolably. He even REFUSED FOOD. This is Y we’re talking about, people. He has pretty much never turned down food, ever. And this was jello! There’s always room for jello, right?
By the time we got out to the car, however, he was fine. He’s been a mama’s boy all day, which is quite a change from his recent preference for my mom. Of course, I might have
spoken written too soon, ’cause he’s crying now, 1 1/2 hours after he fell asleep at bedtime. Gotta go! And thanks for praying for my baby! Now we start praying for the speaking to commence 🙂 .