Our Little Convalescent

Last summer, while we were in Oregon, I started noticing that Gavin's eyes didn't seem perfectly aligned when he was looking at me. It was so subtle, though, it hardly registered on my conscience. I pointed it out to a few people, and most of them didn't notice it. And then they did. So, we made an appointment with the pediatric ophthalmologist who confirmed that he did indeed have exotropia, or basically a lazy eye. We tried doing the patch, but there's only so much you can do to keep an eye-patch on a strong willed 2-year-old. I think they only suggest the patch to make the parents feel like they tried something...anything...before sending their kids into surgery. Because, apparently this is a very, very common thing, and just about everyone ends up in surgery if they want to get it fixed. And so, here we are almost a year later, and Gavin had his surgery on Wednesday.

I'm happy and relieved to report that Gavin did great and bounced back quickly. There's something about giving your child IV Propofol (the Michael Jackson drug) and Demerol, along with whatever else, that is a little unsettling. I spent a good amount of time praying for his well-being beforehand. The morning of the surgery didn't go super smoothly. When I told Gavin that he couldn't eat breakfast, he melted down. Like full on lip quiver and then wailing at the top of his lungs. He didn't get much happier before we had to leave, and we had one of those moments where I was in the back of the car straddling his seat and using every available limb and my head to wrestle him into his seatbelt. With both kids screaming at the top of their lungs as we drove away at 7:30 am, I didn't know if I was prepared for the morning ahead.

But, as children tend to do, they both calmed down before we arrived at the surgery center. An angel in the form of my Aunt Angie met me at the surgery center because Dylan was in the air and en route to Scottsdale. She got plenty of snuggles from Graham while I was in the back getting Gavin prepped. As they checked his temp and his O2 sat, he kept saying, "It doesn't hurt, it just feels funny." He was really cooperative until I had to undress him and put him in the gown. I couldn't get his shorts off, and since he was to receive a suppository, I had to warn the nurses to add "shorts removal" to their to-do list for when the anesthesia took hold. When it was time for him to go into surgery, he was hysterical, and I just had to hand him off in that condition.

Thirty minutes later, Dylan had shown up, and the doctor came out to tell us that everything had gone well. When we were allowed to go back to see him, we left a very fussy Graham with Aunt Angie. Gavin's face was swollen, and he was sitting up in the bed, but hunched over and so out of it. He said he wanted a popsicle, and the nurses brought him an Otter Pop that he would not loosen his grip around but also would not eat. So, it melted, and everything got stained blue. Oh well. I was allowed to get in the bed and snuggle with him, and eventually we got him back into his clothes. When we walked into the waiting room, Graham was fast asleep in Aunt Angie's arms, and I held Gavin in my lap while Dylan went down the street to grab donuts. Dylan thought I was crazy, that there was no way Gavin would be in the mood for a donut. But after the breakfast drama I promised him a donut, and I didn't want to go back on my promise.

The donut, much like the Otter Pop, remained safely in Gavin's grip while he slept on the drive home, and before a couple hours had passed, he put down an entire maple bar and half of a sprinkle donut. #momwin

Gavin was sad and uncomfortable and drowsy for a couple hours. We put Polar Express on the TV and set him up with all-you-can-eat donuts, a bowl of popcorn, a truck and his water. And then, in typical Gavin fashion, a switch flipped and all of a sudden he was perfectly fine and perky. Personally, if I had come off all those drugs, I might sleep the entire day and the next. But not Gavin, the master of conquering sleepiness in any form. Nonna and Papa came over with some new toys, and he was cheerful all day. His eyes looked pretty sore, but he didn't seem to mind. He's a little bit cross-eyed right now, which is probably normal. Something about inflammation and also the fact that they over-correct the issue a bit to account for the eye naturally straying back. In about 50% of cases, the surgery has to be repeated down the road. I'd hate to have to re-do it at all, but we'll cross that bridge when/if we come to it.

Dylan's new sleeping bag was Gavin's lizard cave.

Really kicking back to an episode of Blaze while I worked on getting us out the door on Tuesday morning.

Graham all of a sudden became a rolling machine

He got a new truck for his bravery

Brotherly love

I always get so wrapped up in the go-go-go of the constant to-dos and obligations in life, but at the end of every day I return to a place of gratitude for my many, many blessings. Gavin has my whole heart and is the most life-altering gift I've every known, and though the surgery was minor, very routine and very safe, it really made me realize the extent to which I appreciate that little boy's existence on this planet.