Ross, Rachel, Helen, and Arthur

Arthur has had a rather large lump under the skin on the inside of his right elbow for some time. It was not showing any evidence of being dangerous, so there was no rush to have it removed. However, he is growing quickly and we thought it was about time to get it taken out. The following is my version of events from this morning.

We were given strict instructions that he should fast for at least 4 hours before his appointment. Like his mother, Arthur wakes up hungry, so Ross had to deal with his regular requests for food and water. When Arthur saw his sister and father sit down for breakfast, he attempted to move his high chair up to the table. We left before he could complete his assault on breakfast.

Check-in and admissions went smoothly. We confirmed that Arthur has finally hit 30 pounds. Yikes. We both got matching id bracelets and a spare that the nurse put in my bag "for Arthur's baby book." I didn't have the heart to tell her that no such book existed. One of the nurses had the annoying habit of calling me "Mom" just like the ones at the hospital where Arthur was born. However, one of them asked my name.

Finally, the anesthesiologist came in to tell me what was going to happen. First, they would give Arthur some medicine by mouth which would make him "drunk." Once that took, they would take him to the operating room where they would put him under with gas. I would be in the waiting room until they called for me. The medicine came and he took it a bit reluctantly due to the bitter taste. I was warned to not let him wander around too much because he might fall over. He sat in my lap and got steadily spacier. Meanwhile, more nurses and Arthur's surgeon came in and repeated some of the same questions (when was the last time he ate?) and also confirmed what we were all doing here (both I and his doctor put our initials on Arthur's arm next to the lump).

Finally, one of the nurses helped me change Arthur into a infant size hospital gown. She then wrapped him in a blanket. I carefully transferred him to her arms and she took him away. I had been worried that he would be upset when he saw me leave, but I could see that he was so zonked out that I doubt he noticed. I felt less than good.

The waiting room had a nifty monitor that had the status of each patient. I sat with my book and attempted to not think about someone cutting into my son. When they called for me, I quickly rolled the stroller back into the recovery area.

When I arrived, the nurse was holding Arthur in her arms. This struck me as awfully kind of her. I am sure it is not in her job description. She could have left him in the little bed they had for him and let him cry a bit until I got there. He's not exactly light, either. I thanked her.

Arhur was not crying, but was awake and a bit disoriented. I lay down on the bed with him, but he wanted to sit up so we sat in a chair together. I let the word "water" slip and within moments he was yelling at me. He managed to finish his entire cup of water and also eat some cheerios and raisins. In other words, he seemed to be recovering just fine. With a bit of de-attaching from monitors and ivs, I was able to dress him and take him home.

He has no stitches, they apparently used some kind of surgical super-glue to seal him up. I was warned that he might take a multi-hour nap this afternoon but he has been awake and feisty for most of the day until he fell asleep at dinner. Poor guy. He's had a rough day.