My Littlest Man: The Sequel

Thursday morning we awoke at 3:45 a.m.-ish to get ready for Sawyer's surgery. When I went to get him from his crib (4:45-ish), he became wide awake. He stayed awake for the entire hour's drive to the hospital in Baltimore. He didn't know where we were going. Or where we were. Or what we were doing there. But he knew he was ready to go home as soon as we got there.

About ten minutes before the surgery, he put his coat on over his hospital gown and announced he wanted to go home. We calmed him down, and he fell asleep in my arms. Literally just minutes before I walked him into the operating room. It was so much easier to have him already asleep when they placed the gas mask on his face. And then I left the room.

That's the story of Sawyer's surgery. Everything went that well. Down to the very last detail.

The surgery that was expected to last an hour and 15 minutes, lasted less than 45 minutes. (Within 45 minutes of leaving him in the operating room, both the surgeon and the anesthesiologist were talking to us in the waiting room.)

Waking up in recovery was the longest part. We couldn't see him until he opened his eyes on his own. But, this little guy was sleepy. He was taking his morning nap and couldn't be bothered with waking up to see his new surroundings.

Once we got our hands on our little man, they gave him some apple juice. He drank two glasses, to their surprise.

And then we were wheeled up to his room. Just four hours after surgery, he ate his first meal. Much to the surprise of all the nurses.

He has continued to heal with leaps and bounds. The doctors and nurses could not believe that he just had surgery. They said most patients are sitting in bed, mouths open, and drooling. Not Sawyer. He demanded to go home (in the middle of the night). He demanded to watch Dora and Diego at all hours of the day. And drank apple juice all day and night long.

In the morning, he ate the nasty scrambled "eggs" that they serve. (He won't eat my real ones at home ...)

He's not supposed to run or jump for two weeks. He's doing both. He has jumped on beds, the sofa and the ottoman. He runs through the house as if someone is chasing him. He's unstoppable, that little man. I have tried to stop him, to no avail.

And do you know why he's doing so well? Because of prayer. It has to be. I am convinced. And for that, I thank you.

* * * * While we do not yet know the results of the pathology, the doctor said the lymph node seems "reactive," as in reacting to an infection. I assume we have to wait two weeks until Sawyer's followup appointment. * * * *