David's oral surgery.

Alright, as posted, we had to be there at six am. I woke up Dave just a touch before 5:30 and he was ticked at me. Thankfully I didn't wake up Greg in the process or grab Greg by mistake. They sleep in separate cribs but we've been known to accidentally mix up them up at bedtime finding them in the wrong beds the next morning.

I was completely ready and all I needed to do was change Dave's diaper and go out the door. Dave started to howl. I mean, he was sound asleep, exhausted still, woke up, not nursed and comforted just taken to the car and dumped into his car seat, without his twin.

Unfair!!

Once we started driving he did much better. He liked the motion of the car and surprisingly he stayed awake the whole way. He whined and fussed once we got there.

Here's where it got awkward. It was six am, and Dave couldn't eat or drink. We had to wait for about a half hour before being taken back to the prep room. A family came in with three kids in pajamas. Obviously multiple kids were having something done, I found out later the two oldest were having tubes put in their ears and adenoids taken out. The baby was suppose to have tubes put in too but his procedure was cancelled because he was sick, so his mom was giving him a bottle in the waiting room.

Uh, my two year old doesn't understand he's not eating or drinking and if he saw the bottle it possibly could have made things very difficult. He does steal his cousins bottle, he knows what they are. Luckily, I was the first one in the waiting room so I turned the tv to an obnoxious kid show and had Dave positioned straight towards the tv, with the bottle baby behind us.

This family was also in the prep room across from us (ugh!) so I had to be uber careful about him not seeing a bottle. Thankfully Dave never decided he needed to nurse. If he had, it would have been a miserable wait for both of us, with lots of shirt pulling but he was so paranoid of the nurses and trying to not look at them, he never thought of milkies.

Taking his oxygen stats was mean, just mean. If the boy was verbal, I'm sure that's what he would have said. *laugh* He also thought taking his temp was mean, it was an axillary temp too! So easy. The blood pressure cuff on his leg was really mean. Basically if anyone touched him, it was mean.

When the nurse came to take him back, I didn't give him a chance to object, I tossed him over to her and left *cough* quickly. *cough*

The wait for me was pretty miserable. Someone else gained control of the tv and *groan* was playing a sports channel. It was like nails on a chalkboard. I visited the grandma of the sick bottle boy. She'd come to help with the baby while the parents took care of the two older kids.

When Ean had his adenoids out, he was miserable for about twenty-four hours. I felt for the mom having two that she was going to have to nurse two that day.

Eventually the dentist came in and said that Dave needed four crowns, two upper molars and two lower molars. The two lower were on the same side, they were decayed between them. He also had a filling on the lower side opposite his two crowns.

It's amazing how self conscience I felt when I was asked how old Dave was. Having a two year old needing dental surgery was something I never planned on but I felt like I needed to explain about David's prematurity and projectile vomiting that when on for eight solid months. I didn't want anyone to assume that I had fed my child soda in a bottle for the past year or all he ate was super refined sugary sweets all day. Really it's silly, I know why Dave's teeth are so bad, why should it matter if someone else assumed something different.

The only thing I could have done differently was bring him in sooner. Honestly, that child eats so many crayons, I couldn't ever figure out it was crayons or decay in his mouth.

When I was finally brought back to recover and Dave was brought to me, he was still pretty out of it. He looked like a rag doll, so very limp in the nurses arms. He was placed on my lap and he had a rough time waking up. He fussed and was quiet and then fussed some more, then kicked mad with his eyes closed the whole time.

The nurse brought some apple juice for him to drink and then wandered off. I was annoyed because Dave was still hooked up to the IV and in my lap, so I was trapped and I was thirsty! I've been there before and had wonderful nurses bring me stuff to drink too when trapped under a little person but this nurse only worried about her patient. So when Dave woke up a touch more and started throwing a fit, I nursed him and I drank his apple juice. Seemed fair to me. I did make sure to mention not being offered a drink when the surgery center called to check up Dave and see if there was any problems with his treatment.

I left a touch of juice in the cup for him and offered him some a few minutes later. He tried to take a drink and it all fell out of his mouth on me and him both. I think his mouth felt super weird and he didn't know how to process the new sensations. I'd rather be wearing cold juice then vomit any day of the week. Since I was nervous Dave might throw up, I was actually relieved all I went home with was the juice on my shirt.

Dave's nurse kept pushing the juice on him. That annoyed me.

I know David. I know his history. If anyone in any given situation is going to have a bad tummy reaction to something, It'll be my Dave. Knowing this, I prefer to take new situations like coming out of anesthesia slowly. The last thing I wanted was Dave gulping juice when I didn't know if he was nauseous. Thankfully he kept it down, but I was actually expecting him to throw up. I've been thrown up on daily for eight months. I've cleaned the kid off after introducing every single new food for months. I've stripped in my front room drenched in my own milk more times then I can count. Of course that vomiting was exactly why we were at the surgery center with Dave getting massive dental work.

Dave woke up enough to realize that he had the IV in. That was very disturbing. Since he had nursed, the nurse said she could take it out. Amidst his thrashing she was able to remove the funny wrap stuff so we could plainly see the tape and IV needle in his arm. He flipped. She was pulling the tape off when he jerked his arm, grabbed the line pulled. He got it partly out but it was still taped, so it was bleeding but not coming off. I'm sure it hurt because he now had the end poking him.

The nurse got the rest off and there's was a whole lot of blood coming out the hole. Dave fought us on applying pressure so it could clot. The nurse remarked he sure has good veins. Finally when a cotton ball and band aid could be left on, he objected to that too. Then he figured out he had an ID bracelet on his ankle. Oh yeah, that was bad too. When everything was off his body, then he could finally relax and just whine so I'd realize how miserable he was.

Finally I took the boy home, well I actually took him to see Kent first. I figured since my mom was bonding with Greg alone, she could use a little more time with him. Dave snuggled into Kent's arms for a bit and then he was obviously in pain so I took him home.

Greg did fantastic with my mom, she actually got to play with him and love on him before she left.

When I brought Dave in, hurting, exhausted and super cranky he walked straight over to Greg and those two boys embraced for a minute or two. Greg reached over and patted Dave's back while holding him. I wonder if Greg understood that Dave was distressed?

Guess I'll never know.