Poor William

Today was the day William was booked in to have his adenoidtonsillectomy. The day started at 04.30 as I wasn't allowed to give him milk after 02.15 so we had to get up. Having said all that he was very well behaved, only having a small wimper at around 08.15 when I refused his request for milk, helped probably by the number of people coming to talk to him/me.

He hated having ametop on his hands and immediately tried to rip off the plasters, but was strangely happy once the bandages were on, covering the plasters. In the anaesthetic room he was giggling and laughing with the staff, right up to the point that they decided they couldn't get a cannula in and would have to gas him. He did not like the mask.

This was one of the worst bits for me, knowing too much. I wanted to hold the mask on him, I wanted to stay and watch them intubate him and I wanted to be in recover the moment he returned, to make sure everything was done right and I was there the minute he woke. Of course I couldn't do any of this. The worst bit was definately hearing him crying over the intercom as I tried to get into recovery and knowing that there was a long corridor and another locked door to get through before I could hold him.

Once back on the ward, he woke in time to have a little food and drink and then slept on and off until 7am the next morning. We had to stay in as they wanted to monitor his sats due to his pre-op apnoeas. They were, thankfully, perfect.

Once he was back I have never been so bored in all my life. I finished my book, listened to some music, wished I had taken the laptop and went to bed at 20.30 when the ward lights dimmed.