Chapter Five: A Son Of Thunder Recounts The Battle (Part 1)
Okay, not really.
But his parents do. They remember the prayers from old and new friends across the country. The sleepless nights. The fears. The countless “what do we do now” scenarios.
Meanwhile, the middle Son of Thunder celebrates his victory. The wounded are tended to, so now is the time to relish in the victory in true warrior style. There are video games to play, root beer to drink, pudding to eat. He doesn’t understand what nearly was.
But his parents do. And they are exhausted. And while they relish this victory as well, there is a limit to “milking” it. And considering what transpired over the last week, dude, don’t push it.
So the parents will now “celebrate” this victory as well.
But they call it “payback.”
Because one day the middle Son might get a little sassy with his “victory” and a little “uppity.” And he’ll forget why he’ still breathing. And he might push the limits, and say something he absolutely should not say to his mother, the Little Black Dress.
And I will simply remind him the only reason he has the breath to say what he thinks he’s going to say is because of her. And if he’s not careful, the whole world might know what all actually transpired during that week.
Oops.
“Snaps”
In times of crisis, you often learn a person’s true character. At the very least, you learn things you didn’t know before.
Like the fact the middle Son knows some very racy words. Words that would get – at a minimum – a serious reprimand at home. And not only does he know some racy words, he can actually string them together in quite coherent and impressive phrases. Very impressive.
However, this would not do. Especially to nurses trying to save his life and because the Little Black Dress was in the room. So we agreed to come up with a new phrase – “snap.”
There were a lot of “snaps” over the the last week. I don’t mean just “snap.”
Rather, I mean “SNAP, OH SNAP, SNAP!!! SNAP …
“DAD!!!!!!, SNAP, SNAP … YOU SNAP, SNAP SNAP.”
He gets a pass on this one, because it involved needles and IVs and drawing blood and that whole hospital testing thing.
The “Honesty Policy”
So the hospital staff is into this “honestly policy,” which basically means we won’t lie to you – the patient.
Fine with that.
But let’s involve the parents in just how far we’re going to take this whole “honesty thing.” We’re going to tell our Son the truth, but there are some things he just doesn’t need to know, at least not until he’s under serious medication.
You know, like when the nurse walks in and says “I need you to sign the surgery papers!!! And we haven’t actually discussed that with the middle Son yet.
And for the next few minutes all we hear is “SURGERY. ARE YOU GOING TO CUT ME!!!!”
And the sweet nurse, in all “honestly,” says “yes,” and “you might have a tube sticking out of your throat.”
That went well. Especially, since we’re not going to cut his throat after further consults, but rather go down his throat. The nurse didn’t know that yet, but by golly we’re going to “be honest.”
There are times, especially when it’s your kid, and you as a parent know how your kid will react, that “honestly” takes a back seat to “reality.” Because let’s face it, the surgeon, nurse or whatever isn’t going to be spending the next two hours sitting with your child waiting for the okay to go into surgery so the docs can “cut his throat.”
GINSU KNIVES: BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE
And yes, for 30 minutes all I got was “I hate you, you’re going to kill me, YOU’RE GOING TO CUT MY THROAT WIDE OPEN!!!!”
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Somehow I finally convinced him we were not going to cut his throat. And for some stupid reason I got sucked into that whole honesty thing and told him they would use a tube to operate on him.
“HOW LONG IS THIS TUBE???!!! YOU’RE GOING TO STICK A TUBE IN ME ALL THE WAAAAYYYYYYY DOWN MY THROAT, IT’S GOING TO KILL ME, YOU’RE TRYING TO CHOKE ME TO DEATH!!!!.
Blah, blah, blah.
ONE SHINING MOMENT
And it’s about this time I say the only thing I’m proud of during this whole ordeal, other than to tell him I love him. Because I’m about at the end of my rope. I really don’t know how much more I can take, because my son is screaming about how he hates me and how I’m trying to kill him and so forth.
“I brought you into this world, and today, I’m going to keep you in it.”
And the middle Son paused for about 10 seconds, because, well, it was pretty damn profound. And I meant it. And he knew that. Pause:….. “YOU’RE GOING TO KILL ME!!!!”
It was the best 10 seconds of my life.
I TOLD YOU IT WAS A MOMENT
And later, as I try to explain to him what’s going on, he covers his ears. And I get the “I CAN’T HEAR YOU, I CAN’T HEAR YOU, I CAN’T HEAR YOU!!!!! crap.
Um, yes you can. Because you’re only covering one ear since the other hand is in a brace with the IV.
Slight pause while he thinks about that one.
“I STILL CAN’T HEAR YOU, I STILL CAN’T HEAR YOU.”
And my all-time favorite: “PEOPLE, DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND I’M FREAKING HERE!!!!!!
Okay, whatever. Because we deal with this all the way down to pre-op. The “You’re trying to kill me, you’re slicing my throat open, I want the police now,” etc., etc., etc. Finally, one of the anesthesiologist has mercy on us. Doubtful, after five minutes he obviously can’t take anymore and gives the middle Son a little “sleepy time” medication. Wimp.
‘I STILL HAVE QUESTIONS, YOU CAN’T PUT ME TO SLEEP, WHERE ARE THE POLICE, I DEMMMANNDDDDD ……
I ADMIT IT, I HAVE AN ORNERY STREAK
Because after the surgery, we’re sitting in post-op with the Son waiting for him to wake up. And I look at the nurse and ask if they have any of those fake “scars” – you know from those Freddie Krueger Halloween costumes or something. Barring that, how about we wrap his throat in real heavy bandages, pour some red color on it and tape a tube to his throat?
“You’re evil,” one nurse said.
Okay, I’m not. And the nurse sorta laughed. But before you criticize, walk my walk.
To be continued …