One week on....

I really wished someone had calmly sat me down and explained exactly what the ramifications of Humf getting his tonsils done would actually be. I don't think I thought once of all the implications which has left me very unprepared and more than a little startled.

Firstly I should have spent more time explaining to the kids what was happening and why. They just woke up Wednesday morning to Humf going to the hospital with mum and dad and them going off to school. I did manage to arrange childcare for them for school collecting time but didn't plan for dinner or putting to bed or even the possibility of Hubbie needing to stay with me. I burned bridges with my mum because she upset me with what seemed to be a lack of empathy for what was happening so was expecting no support from her..

As it happens Humf didn't go in for his operation till around 2pm. Having to hold him as they inserted the cannula and then watch as they pumped drugs in to him to make him sleep was indescribably horrible. As he all of a sudden stop crying and his eyes rolled in to the back of his head I just totally fell apart. They grabbed him off me and put him on the trolley as I nearly collapsed to the floor, then they whisked me out the room trying to calm me. As soon as I was out the room I wanted to run back and make them wake him up, it was terrible. I really had to control myself not to run back in there screaming "no don't do it, just wake him, we can go home".

The wait for him to come back was surreal, I don't think I was consciences of anything else but waiting for him to come back. Paul had left his phone on the ward so he ran back to get it and within what seems like a few minutes of him being gone I heard a child crying. I sat there in the waiting room sitting on the edge of my seat listening to this child crying, thinking that's my child, God I am so happy I can hear my child crying. I waited and no one came for me and still I heard this child crying, at this point I was starting to doubt my conviction that it was Humf so I decided to stand outside the room even though they had specifically told us to wait in there. Standing at the door frame listening to him screaming and still no one coming to get me I decided I wasn't prepared to wait any longer. My baby was in major distress and I was going to find him. Just at this point Paul came back in to the surgery room and together we walked in to the recovery room to see Humf still asleep, blood pouring down his face screaming at the top of his voice (he'd just had his tonsils removed for goodness sake) trying to get out of the arms of this nurse...I've never been so happy and so upset at the same time ever.

Looking back I can feel a bit sorry for the nurse, she was trying to do her best to calm him down. But he has both his parents fiery blood in him and he just wanted a parent not a stranger holding him while he was feeling so vunerable and scared. Paul held him, stroked his hair, rubbed his back and soothed him and he relaxed enough for them to take all the tubes off and check his blood pressure and heart rate. It took him a good two hours to come round properly and by about 4 hours after the surgery he'd managed a drink and a bit of sausage. But all he wanted to do was come home.

Much to my relief my mum had ignored my childishness and traveled up to be with my other two this allowed Paul to stay with us and support me through that first night and being in the hospital. Its been a week now and while I can't say he is totally over it he is getting better everyday. His hearing is so much improved and his breathing while he is sleeping is quieter and much more regular. So feeling positive it will all be worth it.

Roll on October and eldest 13th birthday and Ninja 6th its party time for the Hill family.