40 years early, he gets one done

My son underwent an endoscopy of his GI tract today to determine if there was anything physically wrong that may be preventing him from wanting to eat. He and I went to the hospital about seven this morning. Got him set up in his hospital gown. Signed the consent form and got the details from his doctor and the anesthesiologist. He hid under the blanket to keep warm while we cuddled on the gurney. Then he was taken to the procedure room, and I was asked to be in there when they put him under.

Comforting your son while he's squirming and crying as he breathes in knockout gas is not recommended. His mother saw it when he had dental surgery a few years ago and was traumatized by the fear in his eyes and now I understand that completely. Not something I ever wish to witness again.

I left the room and was told to wait in the reception area. I was given a pager, like in a restaurant, that would beep and vibrate when my son was, um, done. After about 25 minutes of waiting, it went off and I was taken to a consulting room.

One chair on one side of a small, curtained room. Three chairs on the other. I did not want to think about the other two chairs and thankfully it was just his doctor who came in to tell me he was fine and that the scope showed nothing wrong but the biopsy results would take a few days. He seemed confident there was nothing physically amiss. We talked of his toileting issues and what could be done about them. So much work ahead.

I emailed his mother and she quickly replied back that she was in the hospital, waiting to be brought in to see him. I went to the nurse's station and asked where she was. Had to get one of the nurses to bring her in.

We were taken to recovery where he was groggy and whiny, nothing unexpected. After a few minutes I gave him his iPad and he went under the covers and blasted Dora the Explorer. A few minutes later I took the iPad from him so we could get him dressed and out of there which caused him to have a bit of a meltdown, which also showed us that he was good to go.

I was not sure if his mother would show up or not so I was prepared to take the day off work. I was surprised and grateful to know she planned on watching him the rest of the day. She let me know a couple of hours later that he was back to normal and I have heard nothing to tell me otherwise.

Ok, I only worked half a day, and to destress I went to Pistachia Vera for breakfast.