The Day I Told Your Doctor to Put Super Glue in Your Ears

Dear Sammy,

Normally, I’d write about the past month and how you’ve grown and changed. And while you have grown and changed a lot (as usual), everything is overshadowed by what you had to do this week. This fourth round of ear tubes, and the surgery that comes with that, is something I never wanted you to endure (actually, I didn’t want you to have to deal with any ear tubes, but let’s focus on the now), but after multiple examinations, evaluations, and second opinions (yes, Mama sprung for a second opinion, that’s how much I love you), we knew it was the best road we could send you down. A bumpy, swervy, slow-pokey road, but the best road nonetheless.

You were a total champ. I didn’t tell you what was happening until the night before, and then only in a sing-songy voice and with very little detail. You didn’t really seem to be bothered by the idea. In fact, the only grousing you did was 1) at 5:50 in the morning when I denied you first half-asleep request for breakfast, and 2) when you had to stop watching Up to go, you know, have surgery. Everything else was go with the flow. That floors me.

I knew something wasn’t quite going smoothly because the doctor didn’t show up in the waiting room almost immediately. It was probably only 20 minutes, but it felt like an eternity (and really, when the past surgeries took about 7 minutes, it was). Your vocal chords spasmed and they had to put in a breathing tube and an IV. You never stopped breathing, but it was a precaution I’m glad they took. That meant you had stronger anesthetic and it took you quite a while to come out of it. But slowly, you woke up, and you never cried. You made note – several times – of the other kids crying, but never you. Even when the throwing up started. (Just an aside here: major points to me, she of the extraordinarily sensitive gag reflex, for never flinching – all day.) As long as you were assured that you’d be going to Grandma’s house, you were fine. The nurse took that IV out of your hand, and you didn’t move, but I almost passed out. (Note to self: never watch that happen again.)

You curled into the couch and watched your new several times, which was the best thing you could have done to rest. Your sister knew something wasn’t right with her beloved brother, and she stuck close by all morning (hey, that’s toddler forever right there). It took you a long time (LLLOOONNNGGG time) for your stomach to settle down for more than ginger ale, and I know it must have been awful to be so hungry and so queasy all at once. But again, I am so proud of how you handled it. You’re a tough boy.

So next we watch to see how your hearing improves (it always does with the tubes) and how long they stay in (it better be a LLLOOONNNGGG time). Grandma asked you if you were hearing louder sounds, but you told her your ears were quiet now. That sounds like a good thing to me.

Now that that’s done, let’s celebrate Thanksgiving by being grateful for your new ears (your term) and eating lots of pumpkin pie.

Love,

Mommy