The State of the Boy

Jamie had his operation yesterday; two little grommets went in and the residual regenerating adenoids came back out.

Monkey came too and even got a hospital bracelet.

The time before the operation he had probably the best time of his life. He played the new Angry Birds Space game, completed the Ward Easter Egg hunt in record time (whilst enchanting all the parents and nurses with his earnestness) and painted several hundred plaster of paris figures. And then he was called down to surgery. This time the anaesthetists were able to locate one of his miniscule little veins, so he didn't have to fret about the mask afterall. He was under for just over an hour, and in a strange episode of syncronicity I swapped messages with an American crafty mum friend whose daughter was under at the same time. I wonder if they met in the ether?

On the way home he said, 'Dad, your car sounds like a jet plane'.

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Putting 'Pardon?' to bed

After eight months of telling everyone with a medical degree (or medical training, or people who might know people who have medical training) that Jamie can't hear again we were finally vindicated a couple of weeks ago when Jamie bombed his hearing tests. We're talking not even in mild hearing loss levels, but moderate. I told you so, doctors; there are many things I am a fantasist about but not glaringly obvious medical problems. Due to the amount of time we've been chasing this, the support of his teacher in agreeing it is a major problem, the fact that he had this operation before, and the poor hearing test we were fast-tracked straight onto the waiting list for an operation*. It was supposed to happen by the end of May, but a call came today that there was a cancellation and he's having it on Monday! At the very least it's a double-grommet insertion but it could quite possibly be another adenoidectomy as they suspect his have grown back out of spite.

The last time Jamie had this operation (please click through if you haven't read it because the immediate difference for him was so poignant and profound) almost exactly two years ago he was only four. But it turns out he remembers it vividly and he's pretty scared about the general anaesthetic. It's heart-aching to hear him describe the smell and the taste of the gas and how he woke up without me there (he was sobbing and clinging like a limpet to a random nurse when I was brought through), but this is going to make his life so much better. And ours too. Wish him strength and bravery.

*When I say fast-tracked, I mean that he didn't have to jump through additional hoops pre-op. Normally you need three failed tests in a row before they operate, which is what happened to us last time.

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If this was my journal I would use it to chart the incidence of the word 'Pardon'

Despite the fact that being in the company of my children for prolonged periods of time is a gift in-and-of-itself, I also made a couple of small gifts for their various caregivers. For Jamie's teacher I made this fabric covered notebook in Alexander Henry's pretty tulip print. I didn't make a gift for his teacher last year, but I've had quite a bit of contact with his teacher this year due to the re-emergence of his hearing problem. I don't think I've mentioned it on the blog, but he's struggling to hear well again and we are back in the system to get it sorted. By 'get it sorted' I mean wait two months, find out the referral was never actioned, wait another two months, have an appointment that deems his hearing acceptable, and then get discharged.

Pictured: a gift for Maia's childminder. Not pictured: segues between topics

Armed with a letter from said teacher confirming that there is definitely a problem (thereby making me appear at least 65% less neurotic / fantasist / Munchausen's by proxy), and a very painful yet comical discussion with the GP where Jamie said 'Pardon?' sixteen times in a row, we're back in the system for a second time this year. I absolutely don't know what to do if they say his hearing is fine again.

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He fought the anaesthetist and the anaesthetist won

It couldn't have gone better yesterday. Jamie got to drive this motorised car through the hospital corridors and park it at the operating theatre.

This is some mighty strange stuff.

Unable to find any veins in his little hands, he was told to 'blow up the balloon' attached to the anaesthesia tube. Which he did, for an unfeasibly long time. The doctors and nurses were all:

'Umm, Jamie lie down.'

They harvested a large amount of this:

It was probably glittery, and most definitely had Space Debris

The doctor went:

Take that, adenoids!

Back in the ward, he discovered the joys of Xbox for the very first time, and spent six hours doing this:

I don't even know which character I am.

On the way home we stopped at McDonald's so he could have a milkshake. In the car, he said in a panic, 'What's that noise?!' It was:

Birdsong

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Sorry about this incommunicado business

It was a very busy times last week with all the nearly dying stuff going on, Jamie's first appointment with a developmental paediatrician, my first lingerie purchase in four years, Maia's 11PM disco dance-off with her 6'4" second cousin, and lots of Top Secret crafting for the Alice and Wonderland swap. And tomorrow? A very big day. This is the diagram the hospital sent to explain the operations Jamie is having tomorrow:


Clearly, putting grommets into his ears is one. That was easy. The sci-fi bit happening bottom left represents an adeniodectomy. Rather alarmingly, the surgeon told me it was standard practice to scrape them off with a razor. But she prefers to burn them off with a laser. I'm so happy she's a show-off. He has the lowest pain threshold in the Western Hemisphere so we can expect hijinks there, it's nil by mouth from midnight which is going to be so much fun for the all-day smorgasborder, and for some general angst let's throw in the general anaesthesia. But the chance that he might be able to hear better (and that I might not get quite so many, 'Wot? Wot? Wot?'s ) will hopefully be worth it. Wish us luck!

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The Doctor's: A short play

Today I finally brought Jamie to the doctor's to discuss his hearing. We've all been trying to figure out for some time now if he is hard of hearing or just infuriating. While his behaviour in every other way suggests he's just infuriating, the time has come to figure out if there is a medical reason so off to the doctors we went...

Scene: Crowded doctor's surgery. Forced to wait 30+ minutes. Toys and magazine removed because of swine flu. NB. Please remember Jamie shouts everything.

Jamie: Wot we doing?
Me: Waiting for the doctor.
Jamie: Wot you saying?
Me: Waiting. For. The. Doctor.
Jamie: Wot?
Me: Waiting for the doctor!!
Jamie: Right.
Maia (pointing at every other person waiting individually): Look! Man! Lady! Lady! Man! Man! Lady! Man!
Me: That's right. They're waiting too.
Jamie: Wot you saying?
Me: I'm talking to Maia.
Jamie: Wot you saying?
Me: Nothing.
Maia (pointing to man sitting near us): Look! Man! Wot man doing?
Me: Waiting.
Man gets up and moves. Lady gets up to go to the bathroom.
Jamie: Where's the lady going?
Me: Bathroom.
Jamie: Wot you saying?
Me: Bathroom!
Jamie: She's going for a wee wee! She's going for a poo!
Me: I don't know. Maybe. Now shush.
Jamie: I need to go wee-wee too!
Me: Now we have to wait, the lady's in there.
Jamie: Jamie: I need to go wee-wee too!
Me: Wait! The lady's in there.
Lady exits bathroom.
Jamie: She's finished her wee wee! And her poo!
Lady gives me the dirtiest look ever. We go to the bathroom for a wee wee and return to seats. Man arrives, sits next to us. Maia climbs into my lap and shoves her hands down my top.
Maia: Mmmmm. Boobies.
Me: Maia, stop it.
Maia lifts her top, touches herself.
Maia (to adjacent man): Look, Maia's boobies.
Me: Maia, stop it.
Maia shoves her hands down my top again.
Maia (to adjacent man): Look, Mummy's boobies.
Me: Please stop!!
Maia starts crying.
Jamie: Wot you saying to Maia?
Me: I'm telling Maia to stop.
Jamie: Why she crying?
Me: She just is.
Jamie: Maia, what's wrong?
Maia: Mummy.
Jamie: Oh, okay. You want an ice cream?
Maia: Yeah, yeah!
Jamie: Mum, Maia would like an ice cream.
Me: No, your not having ice cream. It's 9:30 and we're at the doctor's.
Maia (throwing herself on floor): Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream!
Doctor arrives and call us through.
Doctor: Right, what can I do for you?
Me (thinks): Euthanise me.
Me (says): I'm worried about his hearing. He talks really loudly and he doesn't seem to understand what anyone is saying ever.
Doctor (to Jamie): Do you have some trouble with your ears?
Jamie: Wot?
Doctor: Your. ears.
Jamie: I hear voices in my head.
Doctor (alarmed): You hear voices in your head?!
Jamie: Yeah, they're speaking. In my head.
Doctor hovers over his keyboard, deciding whether to type 'Schizophrenia?'.
Me: I think he means noise, not voices.
Doctor: Oh, I guess I won't type that in my notes. Let have a look then.
Doctor looks in his ears.
Doctor: Does he snore?
Me: Yes.
Doctor: I think it's his adenoids.

The End.

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