Crunchy Thoughts

The thoughts are crunchier here.

hole-punched taco

Lydia has had a very eventful medical month. As I posted last time, we had our consultation with an ENT at Children’s Hospital. We were there for over two hours, with the majority of that time waiting . . . and waiting . . . and waiting a bit more. Thankfully Lydia is a pretty patient girl right now and is only squirmy in her own personal zone. I’m sure that’ll change once she discovers walking.

When we were finally in the exam room and the ENT doctor walks in, he comes at us like, “Hi, I’m Dr. Hill; she needs tubes; any questions?” His talking was so NOW and IN THE MOMENT I had to ask and make sure they weren’t doing it that day.

So after an initial scheduling of the procedure in mid-June, some phone calls and an additional physical appointment to placate a potentially over-cautious anesthesiologist, the procedure was scheduled for this past Tuesday, May 19th.

We had to arrive bright and early at 6:15 a.m. with a hungry baby. Thankfully she isn’t incredibly demanding about food right now. She was much more amused with all the COLORS and the SEATS and the PEOPLE TO WATCH.

She was not amused the the little thing they put on her finger to take her pulse, however. The blood pressure cuff on her leg was no problem, but the thing on her finger was a horror. The nurses there were awesome — about three of them flooded in to amuse her with words and bubbles while her vitals were taken. Everyone commented on how cute she was, and Lydia already loves a good compliment.

After they finished the vitals and took off the Finger Wrap From Hell, we got our own little hospital room, complete with little kids’ hospital bed, rocking chair, sink, and television. The whole place was very nice and kid-friendly. Older kids were driving up and down the halls in little cars, which made great entertainment for Lydia.

This is where we did most of our waiting, punctuated by visits from the nurse or anesthesiologist who really was nervous about her cough. I explained to him she’d been to the doctor more than once about it, her lungs are clear, so it’s either allergic rhinitis or somebody’s slipping my baby cigarettes. Apparently I said that with too much of a straight face because he wasn’t sure if he should laugh or not.

At 8:15 a.m. they finally came to take her for the surgery. She did cry when I handed her over to the nurse but I knew she was going to be fine. She was back there a good 30 minutes and I just chugged some coffee and watched kids and parents go by our door.

A little while later I heard a low, tired-out-from-crying-but-I’ve-still-gotta-cry cry that was my Lydia. A nurse was cradling her and bring her up to our room. I was ever so glad to hold my baby. The Husband gave her her pacifier and Lydia went right back to sleep. Apparently Lydia could have had her pacifier with her back in surgery but I didn’t know that so I had taken it from her.

We stayed there about an hour or so to let Lydia sleep it off some then we headed on home, where Lydia played for a while then had another good long nap.

Hopefully the next cold she gets will just stay a cold. If she would just stop kissing her boyfriend at daycare she would stop getting the colds in the first place.


In addition to having tubes put in her ears, the other thing Dr. Hill did was remove two skin tags that have been on Lydia’s right ear since she was born. I’ve never specifically mentioned them; they’ve just always been a part of her. I’d always thought of them as her nubbins.

The doctor asked us at the consultation if we would like them removed while she would be in surgery and we thought, well, how often are you in surgery, so we said sure.

Between the consultation and the surgery date I had debated on changing my mind about that. They’ve never bothered me, they don’t bother her, so the only reason we’re doing it is for aesthetic reasons — because some day some kid will say something mean. But kids always say something mean about something. Kids said mean stuff about my red hair and freckles when I was younger but I didn’t go back and shave off all my hair or dye it (though I probably threatened it a few times).

But we went ahead and let the doctor do it; I think mainly because I was caught by the IT’S OUR ONLY OPPORTUNITY feeling. Right before I handed her over to the nurse for surgery I kissed her little nubbins on her ear; I knew it would be my last chance before they’d be gone.

When she came back from surgery and I saw her nubbins were replaced by stitches and a steri-strip, I knew I regretted it. That wasn’t my choice to make; it had been her’s. I think it will be one of my very few regrets in life.

But what’s done is done. She’s still my happy, smiling, blue-eyed girlie; nubbins or no nubbins.