Cabin Fever

As the snow continues to pile up in our driveway and our village’s salt supply continues to dwindle, our family is buckling down for perhaps the biggest squall this year. No, I’m not talking about the next phase of the polar vortex– I’m referring to Alexander’s final round of surgery coming up this Wednesday.

Alexander embarks on a one-player adaptation of the game Hot Lava.

Alexander embarks on a one-player adaptation of the game Hot Lava.

Though we’re not panicked about the surgery itself, we have been warned that recovery this time is going to be much more involved (especially because he’s no longer an immobile little baby). The surgical team will be doing a complete repair of his hard palate, which means he’ll be able to eat solid foods and begin to articulate words after he heals! For the first surgery, his limited mobility really helped logistically, so he pretty much stayed put in his hospital crib. By the second surgery in October, he could pull to a stand (look at that parental lingo!), but he wasn’t walking yet. Now though, we’re dealing with a full-fledged wobbly toddler who wants nothing less than to be running around allthetime.  Another slight “concern” is that our clever little man is constantly devising strategies to literally climb to new heights. Santa’s gift to him of cardboard blocks are an endless source of gaining a few inches when trying to reach things.  He’s a virtual Houdini when it comes to prying off his arm cuffs even with an IV, so we and the nursing staff are going to have our hands full with Alexander.

Because the surgery will be fairly invasive, we’ll be camped out with Alexander for a few days at Comer; if all goes well, we’re hoping he can be released on Friday.  We are SO grateful that this will be the only surgery for the year (crossing fingers), but we’re dreading the exhausting week ahead.  I can’t quite explain how emotionally taxing it is waiting for your child to gently (sometimes not to gently) wake from anesthesia after surgery in post-op, but I think after that hurdle, it’ll all be downhill.  By now, we’ve figured out to silence most of the drip and sensor alarms when they go off at 3 am and what not to order from the hospital menu for breakfast, not to mention why the discount parking pass isn’t as cost effective as validation for more than a 24-hr stay. With that said, I’ll be more than happy to put these tidbits into my periphery of acquired knowledge and move to bigger and better things.  Similarly, Alexander has learned such important life lessons as always smiling when the residents are on rounds in your room, taking advantage of those days when pudding and applesauce are on the menu for breakfast, and never letting up the tears until someone produces a Thomas the Train sticker for you. People in white coats are always good for a few stickers.

After receiving an incredibly thoughtful little care package for Alexander from some dear friends, I felt inspired to put together a bag full of activities to keep our frustrated little boy entertained and distracted. Considering that he’ll have his arm cuffs back on and will have an IV, he’ll be stuck in his hospital crib for the most part.  So far, I have some bubbles, play dough (though that was met with trepidation today), and a few chunky crayons. I would love suggestions from any of you out there for activities/games/songs to help keep an almost 2-year old entertained.  The hospital usually offers toys as well, along with therapy animals– one of these days, maybe they’ll have therapy cats!

To add one more layer of fun to all of this upcoming week’s events, Alexander is getting over a nasty head cold. Of course, he was as healthy as a horse until his 6-month adoption clinic checkup on Friday. He was only running a low-grade fever, but given the open palate, our household’s main activity this weekend is following him around with soft nasal wipes and saline spray. The checkup itself went well, and the clinic was kind enough to schedule all of Alexander’s labwork to be done while in surgery.  The little man is finally on the growth charts, and he literally ran out of the examining room squealing with a big smile much to the joy of the adoption team. It was one of those life moments I’ll remember, as a few medical staff and physicians poked their heads out while Alexander toddled down the hallway in his little snowflake sweater. There was a lot of clapping, cheering, and cooing Friday morning in the hallway– it was a perfect way to wrap up our interaction with the adoption clinic.

Why my son is crying- I told him I was out of yogurt.

Why my son is crying- I told him that he finished his yogurt.

A luck would have it, Alexander chose not to nap after his morning-o-doctors.  This resulted in the remainder of the day being comically painful as his sleep-deprived, cold-ridden self was not having it. He picked fights over water, dinner, yogurt, lack of yogurt, being cut off from yogurt* (see a theme here?), and being so tired he couldn’t stand up! He stumbled around like a tiny, drunk t-rex– it reminded me an incredibly funny blog about parents documenting why their child is melting down. While I hate to seek pleasure in my son’s discomfort, usually the melt down is about  something so trivial or silly, that it’s hard not to laugh on the inside while trying to calm him down.  I know Friday’s evening of squeals, crying, and tears was just a hint of what we’ll have in store for us this week once Alexander finds himself once again in his little arm cuffs.

Even though we are preparing ourselves for yet more hibernation while our little man heals and recovers, we look forward to the possibility of him being able to eat non-pureed birthday cake for the first time this year! Please continue to keep us in your thoughts and prayers this week– if we can make it through surgery #3 and a pretty severe case of cabin fever, our family can do anything!

Note to self- giving your napless child drumsticks an hour before bedtime is not the best idea.

Note to self- giving your napless child drumsticks an hour before bedtime is not the best idea.

*Yogurt is a very delicate subject in our house. I vowed I’d never start spelling things, but after an entire day of arguing through ASL with Alexander about why he needed to eat more than just greek yogurt (his response– “More yogurt! No milk! No cereal! More yogurt!”), we are cautious about bringing up the “cultured dairy product that shall not be named” lest we set off a barrage of signing about why he is still hungry and must eat more aforementioned cultured dairy product in order to be a well-adjusted young man.

 

4 thoughts on “Cabin Fever

  1. We will be thinking about and praying for Alexander’s sugery and speedy recovery! Sending hugs from Indiana! P.S…. We have the same problem with yogurt addiction at our house!

  2. We’ll be keeping you all in our prayers this week, Kathleen. And I think you guys have already shown that your family can do anything! In case it’ll help, I’ve found Melissa and Doug Water Wow Coloring, lift flap and toddler “I Spy” books, and an Elmo laptop to be good distractions in the hospital/doctor’s office. We also passed time with stickers of her own (decorating paper with them) and hiding/finding little toy animals in silly putty. I hope Alexander’s surgery goes perfectly, and that recovery time is as stress-free as possible!

  3. Amy and I will be praying for great success on Wednesday. Good luck with trying to get some sleep! And as far as signing goes, I learned everything I know from that guy at Mandella’s funeral and also from my all-time favorite signer, Garrett Morris.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>