No Big Deal
I’m sitting in a hospital waiting room…again. It’s no big deal, really. Just a super fast CT scan of Aidan’s hips to make sure we have all the information we need for his hip surgery in March. The doctor was so kind to attempt the CT scan without anesthesia since it’s only a thirty second scan. Aidan couldn’t do it. He relaxed under the warm blankets and smiled at the radiologist, but he wouldn’t let them move his legs into Murphy Protocol position.
In came a whole team of people bearing needles and monitors and IV bags and drugs. I told them their sats reading was wrong; his fingers were cold and he was wiggling out of his ET Phone Home button. I unplugged it and hooked up a new one. NICU grads can do those things. No big deal. I told them it’s hard to find a vein in my little boy. They got him on the first stick. Now that is a big deal. I told the anesthesiologist he gets bragging rights.
So I’m sitting in the hospital waiting room, not worried or anxious but grateful to have some uninterrupted time to myself. I’m thinking ahead to the dirty dishes I didn’t quite get to this morning and wondering what to feed my hungry boy who hasn’t eaten since yesterday. It’s all very ordinary. No big deal.
This moment waiting in the hospital is no big deal because it’s all a matter of perspective. This knock out for Aidan doesn’t involve narcotics. After today’s procedure he’ll drive out of the hospital no problem. There were no scalpels; no pain; no side effects. No big deal, because we’re saving it for March.
I’m sitting in the hospital waiting room trying hard not to think about Aidan’s upcoming surgery being a big deal. I’m using this quiet moment to be thankful for the people I have in my corner.
There’s my been there done that friend who is taking me to our pre-op appointment next week. Not only does this take away the anxiety of driving in Boston (really British settlers could you not just make a grid?) but her presence gives me another set of listening ears. She’ll be able to ask questions while I’m soaking in information and she’ll soak information in when I’m asking questions. All of that information will be critical to Aidan’s recovery. That’s a big deal.
There are the six degrees of separation nurses who have already contacted me because my speaking engagements at Yale have paid off. It’s good to have a connection, to feel instantly at ease with asking questions and hearing hard answers. A little extra TLC will go a long way.
So today I come home tired, wondering how I expected to get anything else done, though all I really did today was wait around and kiss my boy awake. No big deal. Just another day of mothering in this most bizarre landscape.