Pre-op

The question of the night yesterday was whether or not to just scoop Victor from bed to put him in the car at 6AM with no liquids before surgery or to wake him at 5:00 so he could have half an hour of popsicles and juice before time ran out. I wasn't worried about the ride to the hospital, but knew that the 2 hours between admitting and surgery were going to be tough. Especially on a completely empty stomach.

So I woke him. Poor little sleepy head could only down a few swallows of juice and less than half of his popsicle. But it was something. He couldn't figure out why it all disappeared at 5:30 when he was just getting started!

He was happy to find out that the lobby/waiting area echoed. I'm not so sure the sleepy patients and family members waiting with us agreed. Too bad. Maybe the louder his is the quicker they'll take him back?

He found a friend to play with while waiting and things went well until 8:30 came and went. As soon as anesthesiology came to talk to me he was done. He immediately banged his head on their solid, hard floor. They were horrified. I was relaxed. Now the patient's mother was reassuring the medical staff and a scared and crying Victor. Guess they didn't believe me earlier when I told them that he will get self-injurious if scared or frustrated or confused or denied something or...........

But to their credit they didn't run in fear. Nor did they run for their sleeping gas. Instead they asked to brainstorm about how we can alleviate his fears when I'm not around. We came up with ...

Music!

They got on it right away and had Johnny Cash on the child-friendly iPad within 5 minutes (and after only one more head-banging incident).

But then Victor requested The Beatles. Hey Jude, specifically.

Whatever you want, Your Majesty. The Beatles, it is.

And with Hey Jude playing in his hands, Victor happily followed them down the hall, and onto the bed. When it was time for a kiss and hug from Mommy, he laid back on the bed, never letting go of Hey Jude, as relaxed as could be. I only wish I had a picture of that serene scene.

And with a Johnny Cash-Beatles-Elvis-loving toddler on their floor, I think they're putty in his hands, too.