Bud's tonsillectomy is tomorrow. I'm a nervous wreck, but I think Bud is actually looking forward to it.
I have tried to be honest about it. Really, I have. We read Curious George Goes to the Hospital, and I pointed out all of the things that happened to George that will also happen to him. I told him about waking up with a sore throat. I told him about losing his voice for a while. But for Bud, the operation means two things: presents and snacks.
His surgery is not scheduled until 11:00 a.m., which means we'll have a long, breakfast-free morning - particularly problematic in light of his new medication-induced appetite. So here's the plan:
He can eat solids until midnight. He's asleep now, but I told him that I'd wake him up at 11:00, and he'll be able to eat whatever he wants. He's downright giddy about it.
He can have clear fluids until 9:00 a.m. I've explained that on Operation Days, the doctor says that you have to have apple juice, Popsicles, and jello for breakfast. Bud thinks this is his kind of doctor.
Bud told me that after an operation, you get to have presents. That are wrapped. That include movies. And toys. I have taken careful notes.
I told Bud that because of his sore throat he'll need to have Popsicles and jello and ice cream and juice and yogurt and applesauce until he feels better. He did the pre-surgery grocery shopping with me. I said "yes" a lot. He can't believe his good fortune.
His backpack is packed with his stuffed bear and a stack of Tubbies, George, and Pooh DVDs for the recovery room. I've promised to download Dierks Bentley Live from Bonnaroo to his iPod before we leave, despite the fact that iTunes warns me of explicit lyrics (but, really, how bad can it be?) Bud is feeling good and is prepared to take the operating room by storm.
Of course, I understand that all this may change the moment we enter the hospital tomorrow, or even the moment I remind him that there will be no toast for breakfast. But I'm rolling with it for now, and keeping my fingers crossed, and hoping that he's not too angry with me when he wakes up tomorrow with a sore throat like no sore throat he's ever had before.
But one step at a time.
For now, I'm planning out the menu for our midnight breakfast, and I'm sending out this post to ask all you thinkers and prayers and senders of energy to channel a little of that thought and prayer and energy this way tomorrow.
We'd be happy to send you some ice cream in return.