As we wait to send Lady Bug back into surgery it feels like something major. It probably isn’t even technically surgery. Tubes in the ears to solve a chronic ear infection problem. Three months ago when she had her seizure life felt more fragile and dangerous. All her scans looked good and the only lingering symptoms have been nearly constant ear trouble. So here we sit, in a pre-op room, waiting on the doctor to arrive and take her back for tubes.
On a scale of difficulty from 1-10, tubes would probably be a 1. The fast and easy baseline operation yet they will still put her under anesthesia. They still come into the room and make you sign forms agreeing to anything that may happen from organ damage to death. There is still the possibility of an IV in a tiny arm and we will still be sitting in a waiting area watching an avatar of our baby posted on a constantly updated television screen.
The doctor opted for being less invasive by not removing the adenoids, which I understand is commonly done as part of tubes. I am glad to have a doctor who wants to minimize the amount of work done on little ones. We might have to do the adenoids later but for now just tubes. Our doctor is also the same one who performed my sinus surgery as well as my sister’s. He has my full confidence and respect.
But Lady Bug is the baby. She is number four and the last of our children that still enjoys being rocked to sleep. She stills wears a diaper and uses a pacifier. She smiles from her cheeks and randomly decides to give kisses and hugs. I want to keep her in a bubble and guard over it. I want to keep her free from pain and discomfort.
In a few minutes she will leave us to have her “minor procedure”. The nurses will take her out of our hands and beyond our sight. We have to trust that they are experts and in an hour everything will be fine. After all it is just a minor procedure and many children go through things that are much much worse, right?
This feeling isn’t about comparison. Relativity doesn’t help.
There is a major lump in my throat that tells me there is no such thing as a minor procedure.
-Underdaddy to the rescue.