Here’s the report on yesterday’s trip to the children’s hospital: Superkid was a superstar!
If I haven’t told you before, you need to know that Superkid considers all trips to our children’s hospital–for any reason–to be primarily a social outing. Any procedure or examination that the trip entails is secondary to the opportunities for social networking and the gathering of prizes, as far as Superkid is concerned. A true performance artist, Superkid also feels that every person encountered at the hospital is a fresh audience ready to be delighted with her medical history, family history, favorite songs, new vocabularly words, and dance moves.
I don’t know where she gets that.
Needless to say, trips to the hospital with Superkid are never, ever, EVER dull. I am extremely thankful that Superkid keeps me so entertained when we are at the hospital, because as much as I love seeing people there who have done so much for us, my memories of time spent at the hospital are bittersweet. Superkid seems to be working hard to eliminate the bitter.
Anywho, Superkid’s cauterization went very smoothly, with zero bleeding and zero complications from anesthesia or anything else. The only blip we had was that her IV wouldn’t draw blood, so we did have to make a stop at the lab before we left the hospital. By that time, Superkid was loaded down with swag, so she had no problem stopping by the lab to collect some more–even if it meant getting poked.
These are just a few of the things Superkid came home with. Do you love the surgical cap she got to pick for herself? She calls it her “french hat”. Superkid also got to decorate the sedation mask with stickers and rub the inside with bubblegum chapstick to make it smell good.
I am so impressed with our hospital’s Child Life program. Prior to any procedure, a child life specialist comes to spend time with the child, and lets them play with equipment that they’ll be seeing during the procedure. Believe me, it works. During the 3+ hours I was hanging out in the Day Surgery area, I didn’t hear a single child cry as they were taken down the hall to the surgical suites. That’s impressive.
The little black dog is a prize from Mom and Dad, because Superkid’s mommy is a total sucker. Superkid loves to visit the giftshop when we are at the hospital, and the last time we were there for an appointment, she saw this dog and couldn’t stop talking about it. She discussed it with me for weeks, and eventually extracted the promise from me that the next time she had to be very brave at the hospital, she could come home with this dog.
So, whenever someone would compliment Superkid on what a marvelous patient she was, she would reply, “Oh yes, I have to be very brave because my mommy is getting me a puppy if I am very brave.” That raised a few eyebrows. I always had to quickly assure them that the puppy would not be real. Oh my, can you imagine what my life would be like if I went around giving everybody puppies when they did hard things? Let’s not imagine that.
I feel extremely blessed for Superkid’s good health at this time. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers on her behalf yesterday, and mine. As the years go by, I seem to be filled with more anxiety over some of these small things than I used to get over the truly big things, like open heart surgery. I guess if someone has to be anxious, I would rather it be me than my child, so we’re good. I really believe that all those drama classes I took way back when were just preparation for me so I could act cool as a cucumber in front of my children. The reality is a little different for me.
Welcome to Holland, I guess. I’m just happy that Superkid likes it here.