As you probably remember, but may have forgot, Senor Reginald Snugglebottoms the Third was born with twelve fingers, the extras being additional thumbs on each hand. We met with a surgeon for a consult back in December and established that the thumbs would have to wait until he was seven months old. So April 5, we packed ourselves off to the Children's Hospital in Mesa.
Getting ready for the surgery was quite the hassle. Referrals back and forth, trying to get x-rays of his hands from the necessary angles, (if you think x-raying a seven-month-old's hands would be tricky, you are correct.), making sure the x-rays and appointments and insurance all lined up. It really takes a lot of work, nothing gets done without you doing it. You think they would send to x-rays to the requesting doctor, but nope, you've got to pick them up. I don't know how parents who have kids with chronic conditions do it, because it is a full-time job coordinating care.
His surgery was scheduled for 11:15, but we had to arrive 2 hrs early. When we made it to the surgical floor, it had bee pushed back to 11:45. Then the surgeries ahead of him ran long. By the time he made it in, it was about 2 pm. Danny was fairly cranky, having not eating since 8:30 am. The floor has a bunch of push-cars that he really liked, so Paul pushed him around the floor for probably an hour. Ugh, waiting was terrible. He was crying and I knew he was hungry and he would just look up like "we've been doing this every day for seven months, why are you not feeding me?!!" Finally around 1:30, people starting coming in. Yes, we're here for thumb surgery. Both hands. He has not eaten since 7:30 am. Breastmilk. No allergies. The same answers over and over, for the surgical nurse, surgeon, and anesthesiologist. Finally, about 2 pm, the surgical nurse whisked him up in his arms and he and the anesthesiologist carried him back into the surgical area. Danny didn't even look back or cry, he was too excited to see new people and things.
We went across the street to the Village Inn for lunch, which we both considered to be a million times less anxious and miserable than being in the waiting room. We came back after an hour, even though the surgery was expected to take two. It was good that we did because it finished early after only ninety minutes. We were taken back into the recovery room where a nurse was holding a very groggy baby, who was greedily downing Pedialyte. He had already downed an entire bottle's worth by the time we got there and would take another two ounces of Pedialyte and breastmilk before he was done. He was very mad about the whole thing--the bandages (he managed to get one off IN THE RECOVERY ROOM), being hungry, and especially being groggy. He was very well-drugged for the entire experience, but he hated being disoriented and generally out of it.
My mother came down to help, which was really nice. Danny bounced back sooooooo fast once the painkillers were stopped, so the help wasn't strictly necessary, but it was nice to have some backup and not to have to try to take him to the sitter's immediately afterwards or miss any more class. (I missed a LOT between all of the appointments, consults, and the actual surgery.)
Here's his thumbs about a week after the surgery. It'll have been eight weeks tomorrow since the surgery and he goes in for what I hope is his final visit with the surgeon. His left thumb appears to have completely healed, but the right is still healing internally.
