It's the night before surgery, and Brody has just gone to sleep. As is our custom now, the night before a surgery Brody gets anything he wants to eat. That means tonight he had pizza, cheetos and a toffee covered popsicle. And 16 ounces of milk. And lots and lots of tickles.
I just got off the phone with the anesthesiologist. She called to do the pre-op consult over the phone. With Brody's complicated medical history, they are always interested (as they should be) about his tracheo-esophageal fistula (TEF) (the esoph didn't go all the way to the stomach) This is because for most surgeries, Brody is intubated, and every anesthesiologist gets wiggy about intubating TEF kids and kids who, like Brody, have an overbite. Thanks to one anesthesiologist at Shriners, who told me what to say, now I know to just tell the subsequent anesthesiologists that Brody has a big mouth. I don't know why, but after they hear that, I get no more questions and they seem much more relaxed.
The anesthesiologist also said that she may give Brody an epidural. Yeah, the same kind as when you give birth. She said it works really well, and helps because she needs to put in not just any IV, but a "really big IV." She said after this kind of surgery, they want to see Brody peeing a lot, and to do that, obviously, they pump him full of fluids.
The plan tomorrow is that we keep Brody at home, since he can't eat after 6:30am. Surgery is at 2:30 (mountain time). Tonight the doc said no clears after 11am, because they usually run early. That's right - early. So to be on the safe side, no apple juice after 11am in case they can take him earlier. I will wake him up at 6am and offer him everything in the house in the hopes he eats something. Keep your fingers crossed.
Brody and Jeremy will be staying overnight, then I'll take over again Thursday morning when Brody is discharged in the afternoon. Our awesome friend Stacy has offered to take Brody on Friday so I can go back to work (not surprisingly, Jeremy and I are both completely out of leave).
Now that you know the anesthesiologist story from above, you will appreciate this story even more: Tonight, Brody and I are sitting and cuddling, and eating our pizza. He turns to me, and puts his fingers in my mouth while I'm chewing. "Mommy . . . eat," he says. Then the little darling says, with his fingers still resting on my lips, "Mommy. . . big. . . . mowf." Jeremy, like many of you, just laughed and didn't say a thing. Of course, when Brody saw I was laughing, he just kept repeating "big mouth, mommy, big mouth." All I can say is that, obviously, (a) my son knows me well, and (b) the apple does not fall far from the tree. But the night before surgery, when I am most anxious, Brody knew to make me laugh.
This is the last you'll hear from me (hopefully) until after he's out of surgery. The surgery involves stretching and reimplanting those urine tubes, and is supposed to be over two hours long, which is one of the longest ones he's had. You know how I get. Jeremy is the voice of reason and tries to talk me off the ledge, since I'm worst case scenario chick. So please say some prayers and/or send good thoughts that Brody's surgery is a success and that he comes out of it safely.