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. . . another hospital.  A new hospital this time, too.

Don’t worry — nothing bad happened. I just finally got around to making appointments for the non-essential, non-emergency, non-cancer-related issues that have been bothering Austin for the past six months.  First, those pesky tonsils.  Which don’t actually bother Austin at all.  I mean, he snores, loudly, but that doesn’t bother him. But we simply have to make sure he’s able to be safely sedated for any future procedures so today we visited an ear, nose and throat specialist at Akron Children’s (long story there, related to annoying health insurance issues, but I must say that even with an hour drive, Akron Children’s was very pleasant to deal with).

Then it was off down the hall to see the “plastics” guy. No, Austin’s not getting a new nose (his current one will have to do).  Remember the dreaded finger injury?  (God, how could we forget the dreaded finger?) It’s turned into quite a claw lately, which we’ve labeled the Franken-finger, and which causes him a lot of pain and discomfort. It’s always the little things . . .

Both doctors agreed that “quick” surgeries are in the books. Luckily, they will coordinate their schedules so we can wrap both procedures up into one surgery, likely over winter vacation (since, you know, kindergarten is the new first grade and the kid’s gotta be able to hold a pencil!).

It was relatively easy, but there’s something about hospital days that exhausts me. I think I’ve finally accepted that it’s not the actual day or anything in it that’s tiring (I mean, today was mostly spent on the freeway) but something much more psychological for me. Maybe it’s the reliving I’m forced through (multiple times) as I recount the date of each and every surgery and list the names of all the current and past medications and check the damn Yes box next to so many of the “Has your child ever….” questions, complete with the wide-eyed amazement of the nurse who unsuspectingly asked our medical history. I inevitably come home and feel completely wiped, like I’ve done something so stressful, and then have to, ugh, make dinner and, ugh, oversee homework. It’s a bit silly, I guess, but also completely logical. Ah, it’s always the little things. . .

But tomorrow really IS another day . . .

I was going to write this post last night after the kids went to bed but fell asleep with Braedan at 9:30 and didn’t get up again (except to take out my contacts and move to my own bed) until 9 this morning. Which is all sort of fitting since the moral of this story is that I was clearly in need of some catch-up sleep.

Braedan had a friend’s birthday party yesterday at one of those bouncy places located a half hour away. One of the other moms had kindly offered to pick him up and drop him off so I wouldn’t have to worry about bringing Austin along (not exactly germ-free, those bouncy places). So there was Braedan, all bundled in his coat and boots with gift in hand, waiting by the window . . . and waiting . . . and waiting. Finally, after about twenty minutes, I texted the other mom (who happens to be extremely responsible and not at all flaky), not wanting to be pushy, not wanting her to feel too bad if she forgot him (and I was pretty sure she had forgotten him and was very sure she’d feel awful about it): “Just checking to see if you’re still picking up Braedan . . . I can always bring him out there if necessary.”

No word back. So I rechecked the invitation for directions, load him into the car (Austin safely with Mark) and zoom out there. Braedan was in a panic the whole time about how much of the party he was missing, asking me every two minutes what time it was and how many minutes of play were left. We finally got there, headed inside and, seeing no one I recognized, told the woman at the counter that we were there for so-and-so’s birthday.

She looked at me slightly confused, went to check the computer and cheerfully declared: “Oh! That party is tomorrow!”

Huh.

Well, that explains why this very responsible mother “forgot” to pick up my son and didn’t return my messages! And let’s not overlook the fact that I had rechecked the invitation for directions and completely skipped over the very large date. Braedan actually handled it all very well; I think he was mostly relieved that he hadn’t missed any of the party (and hadn’t been forgotten) and would get the full play time after all, just one day alter.

We were able to laugh about it and I just shook my head and thought, “Well, that’ll make for a funny blog post.” This is apparently what my life has become: fodder for my blog!

And at least I got those eleven-plus hours of sleep last night!

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