Fastest Surgery in the West

Sorry about the low quality pic-I took it with my phone

Andrew has always had ear issues and had tubes put in when he was 19 months old in October of 2005. Poor little guy has had more infections than I can count and has been subjected to torturous ear drops many times. About a week ago, after dinner one night, he started complaining that his ear was hurting. It was his left ear, which was the one still containing a tube-the tube in the right ear had fallen out over a year ago. Of course I took him to our friendly neighborhood ENT the next day. I am sure the good doctor thinks I have Munchhausen's Syndrome since I am always rushing Andrew in, but of course I am worried about his health, in particular protecting his hearing.

So it turned out I wasn't being paranoid and Andrew not only had an ear infection, but the doctor believed there was a polyp in Andrew's ear drum as well. The polyp had supposedly formed from scar tissue as a result of the many infections. The doctor recommended that Andrew have surgery ASAP to remove the left ear tube and the polyp. He would also possibly have to have a maringoplasty or fat graft to fill in the hole that would be left from the surgery.

Hearing all this that day made me sick to my stomach. I am constantly doubting my capabilities as a mother and I immediately blamed myself for this problem. I should've had the tube removed sooner...I should've brought him in to the doctor sooner or more...maybe if I didn't work I would have noticed something sooner...he'll probably go deaf and it's all my fault...on and on. I took myself on a very creative guilt trip. Fortunately, the doctor was able to reassure me that what was happening with the tube and polyp in Andrew's ear was pretty common and the chance of Andrew sustaining any hearing loss was less than 10%. He also said that he never removes a tube unless it has been 3 years since they were put in or unless problems occur. So I jumped off the guilt train and set up the surgery for the next Monday.

We arrived at the hospital at 8:15, did all the paper work, changed Andrew into his charming hospital smock and booties, waited around endlessly, signed a bunch of papers, met the anesthesiologist and then they were rolling my baby away. I don't care how many times it happens to any mother. That moment when a stranger takes your child away and rolls them into a room where you can't be and they are going to cut into your child-IT IS TRAUMATIC! For me, not for Andrew. He had his pooh bear blankie and was cool as a cucumber. I was very proud of my boy.

Kent and I walked down to the cafeteria to get a drink and had no sooner sat back down in the waiting room than the doctor was back and it was over. The procedure had gone perfectly, and to the doctor's surprise and our great relief, there hadn't been a polyp there at all, thus no need for a fat graft. (Thanks to the miraculous power of the priesthood blessing Andrew receive from my dad the night before if you ask me). They brought us back to see Andrew in the recovery room where he was happily watching cartoons and sucking on a popcicle. We left the hospital around 10:30, no worse for the wear and minus one irritating ear tube.