Going Under

My 6-year-old daughter just went in for surgery about 15 minutes ago. She had chosen me as the parent who gets to watch her fall asleep with the laughing gas. I was fine with that, because I did that with my son when he went in a couple of years ago. They had "Finding Nemo" playing so the mask did not phase him, and he quickly went out.

This time, there was no TV playing. She got up on the table and just lay still. There was something tugging at my heart, though, as I watched her stare into the operating table lights while taking breaths diligently into the mask. My heart dropped when I heard a beep. It was standard. Slowly, but too quickly for me, I watched her smile become a straight line. Her breathing became even. I had been worried about nothing.

She was done in less than 30 minutes. I thought for sure she'd be in recovery for an hour. Nope, she was awake 15-minutes after we were told it went well. The next 4.5 hours were spent trying to get her to eat popsicles or drink apple juice. We were lucky that we had to be transferred to the pediatric floor, because she was in and out of consciousness. One minute she would be chatting about something, the next she would be throwing a mini-tantrum about nothing, and then suddenly be snoring. In order to be discharged, she had to walk. Four hours after her surgery, she decided to sleep off the anesthesia. Nothing woke her. Finally, she took a stroll and was cleared. Wow, what a long day for us all.