Friday, November 2, 2007

It Runs In the Family

My little Spe (two years old) had ear tubes in yesterday. It was amazingly easy and fast. The entire surgery took about ten minutes, and Spe did great.

We did discover, however, that he does share some of my genes. In so many ways, he is like Rhett (he has reddish hair, he's a big fan of Queen and The Beatles, he's all torso and no leg). I've finally found one way that he is just like me: he reacts to anesthesia just how I do. And it's funny.

To start off with they gave him a sweet dosage of nostril anesthesia (gross, right?) which was supposed to "make him act like he's had a few too many beers" (these are the nurse's exact words, not mine). Two minutes later, he had his head down on his dad's shoulder, when suddenly he perked up. "Hey!" he yells and points, "Garbage can!" Then he laughs as if he is the most hilarious person on the planet. Then he says, "Go see garbage can!" So Rhett carries him over to the object of his fixation, and he yells, "Garbage can!" and laughs, once more the most hilarious two year old on the planet.

Rhett finally manages to pry him away from his one true love, the garbage can, and Spe sits on Rhett's lap. He starts stroking his dad's face. "Blue!" he says wonderingly, in a voice not unlike Cheech's or Chong's. He giggles again. He strokes again. "Blue!" Another giggle. It is at this point that Rhett starts singing "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" and Spe joins in. Fortunately, Spe is saved from further embarrassment by being taken back to surgery. He had not one bit of anxiety about going with the strange lady.

When Spe comes out of it, he is moody for a little while. But then, he gets loud and aggressive. He keeps smacking everyone around him, but he doesn't seem to be doing it to be mean. He is also showering everyone around him with kisses, headbutts, and loves. It's like he's supercharged. Oh, how I remember the feeling . . .

Rewind ten years to when I got my wisdom teeth removed. I went all the way under, and from that one experience, I'd be okay with being put under again, even for childbirth. Because I'm a happy, happy woman when I wake up from anesthesia. And then I'm also not. It looked something like this:

Me (upon first waking up): WAAAAAH! WAAAAAH! WAAAAAH! (In case you can't tell, this is uncontrollable wailing.)

Nurse (talking to my dad): Uh, maybe you could take her out the back door. We don't want the other patients to be scared.

Dad: Okay, honey, let's go. (He touches my knee, and the wailing stops suddenly.)

Me: (the only way to describe my voice is childish--seriously I sounded like a four-year old) Can we get me a Frosty on the way home, Dad?

Dad: Uh, okay.

He leads me out to car, while I continue trying to talk like a four-year old around all the gauze in my mouth. We hit Wendy's for a Frosty, but they aren't open yet, and I start to wail again. My dad promises he'll make me a shake when I get home. Wailing ceases again, as quickly as it began.

At home:

Me: I love ice cream. Ice cream is my favorite. But don't let Heather see me eat this!

Heather is one of my older sisters and at the time we were working out to Jane Fonda together. I whispered this in a stage whisper so as to keep Heather from hearing me, although she did, because apparently I don't know how to do anything but a stage whisper when I am recovering from anesthesia.

Me: I hate that Jane Fonda! And you know what, I bet all of the people who work with her hate her too. (This in a perfect four-year old pout.)

Mom: (Trying to find a topic that I'm not so passionate about) So how are you feeling?

Me: Well, I didn't die.

Mom: Did you think you were going to die?

Me: YEEEEEEEES! WAAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAAH! (Again, the uncontrollable wailing.)

My mother looks startled. My dad, who has had some experience with the uncontrollable wailing, puts his hand on my knee. I stop immediately.

Me: I think I'll go the bookstore. Where are my keys? I really want to read a Truman Capote novel. I need to go to the bookstore. Who has my keys?

Mom: Honey, you can't drive. You've just had major surgery.

Me: Yes, I can. (Had I been listening carefully, I would have heard the jingling of every single key in the house being hastily hidden by my sister.) Oh, fine, I won't drive.

I pause dramatically. My mother breathes a sigh of relief.

Me: But I can walk!

At this point my mother, my father and all of my brothers and sisters are eagerly watching me to see what weird thing I will say next. Although I can register that they think I'm crazy, it bothers me not one little bit. In fact, I have to say I enjoy the audience. I turn my wit to my pet bird.

Me: I named this bird the wrong name. I named this bird Othello, but I shouldn't have because Othello kills his wife. I should have named this bird King Lear, after you, Dad. (I'm really waxing sentimental here.) Do you know why, Dad?

Dad: Uh, no. Why?

Me: Because he had three daughters, too! (Just for the record, my dad has five daughters, but that hardly seemed pertinent at the time.)

Dad: Oh. That's a good idea.

Me: Waaaaaah! Waaaaaaah!

I think you get the picture. However, let me say that this lasted at least an hour. My younger brother reports that a good two hours later, he thought I was peacefully sleeping when I lifted up my head and said in my little four-year old voice (although I was twenty-one at the time), "You thought I was sleeping, but I fooled you!"

My sister, Heather, who had her wisdom teeth out a few days later, said only this when she came home: "I'm not acting as weird as Heidi did, am I?" Then she went to sleep. You know, like normal people do.

But not me and Spe. We're not normal. I'm so glad to find something that I've passed on to him. I'm sure he'll thank me later. Because to be honest with you, I remember that day as the best day of my life. Even better than my wedding day. It felt like I was a giant party. And who doesn't love a giant party?


Sarah Anne said...

I am reading this and missing you. Laughing hysterically because I remember this story from the faculty lunch room, but never knowing the actual dialogue that took place.
I completely agree with you regarding drugs. Thank heavens prescriptions run out right? or else I might just need a percocet or lortab everyday to keep mommy happy.

Is that too much information? I think I'm in the clear because I don't have access to drugs and I'm not addicted. But oh man, if I did have access...

Sibri said...

"I pause dramatically"

you Heidi? NEVER!

Leisha said...

Oh man, that was funny! I'm glad little Spencer did so well! Jake had ear tubes in last January (but he also had his tonsils and adenoids removed at the same time...not so fun.)

I think the worse I've done under anesthesia is demand a full refund when the outcome of the surgery wasn't what I had wanted...well, my husband thought it was funny.

carl b smith and marilyn said...

Surgery note: Today I had a patient at the surgery center that would not let the nurses or anesthesiologist put an IV into his arm. Fear proceeded the deed. Finally, we put the mask on him, gave him some Nitrous Oxide/fluorothane and waited till the struggling subsided. His last words were, "Please Dr. Smith, I'm scared.....snore...zzz" He wins the wimp of the year award. He wasn't having as much fun as Heidi did after hers when he woke up!

Celia and Scott said...

Oh Heidi! That was awesome. Scott kept looking over at me wondering what in the world I was reading -- I don't think he'll ever truly get it.