Sport Boy no longer has an appendix.
It was removed sometime between 6.30 and 7.30 this evening.
He did not enjoy the experience.
We got to the hospital in Bunbury about 1.00 this morning and they admitted him shortly after.
It took about an hour before we got settled in a ward, him in a hospital bed, me on a folding stretcher! The pain he'd been experiencing for the last three days was treated with morphine! It had a dramatic effect! It spun poor Sport Boy out and he didn't like it much, but it did reduce the pain and enable him to sleep.
We were awoken this morning by nurses and doctors checking on him, doing the obligatory poking of the belly (his not mine) to the accompanying query, "Does that hurt?"
"Appendicitis" was the unanimous diagnosis, "sign here" (me not him) giving them permission to cut open my little boy and take out the offending piece of anatomy.
I rang work to tell them where I was and I wouldn't be there this morning then called Mrs Holt Press with the news and she packed a bag and headed for Bunbury. She must have got lost or weigh-laid along the way because the 40 minute journey took her two and a half hours. By then it was nearly lunchtime (for me not him, he was fasting pre-op) and I figured as I'd already missed half the day at work I'd stay with the patient for moral support. This was when the projected time for surgery was 2.30.
2.30 came and went, the surgery didn't! I read more of my book and Sport Boy got hungrier and more uncomfortable. He at least had the benefit of Captain Starlight to cheer him up and the use of a game and TV console, also courtesy of Captain Starlight, to keep him occupied. Another little boy in the next bed had had his appendix out on Monday so they shared stories and turns on the Nintendo.
His Dad challenged me to a game of chess. I accepted but was concerned when he explained a couple of rules I'd never heard of before we started. My concern was further increased when I committed a blunder with my second move, losing one of my rooks to his bishop. But I managed to fight back and stave off his attacks, including what I realised was an imminent check-mate with a move that even impressed me with its brilliance and audacity! The tide had turned and I was now on the attack. It was parry and thrust, attack and counter attack, until another fiendishly clever move on my part was followed by a major blunder on his and I had him, check mate!
He challenged me to a rematch but visitors and interruptions conspired against his hopes for revenge and then his appendix-less son was discharged and I remained undefeated chess king of the appendectomy ward!
Meanwhile, back on the surgery front, the latest estimate of theatre time was 4.00pm. Sport Boy was becoming more distressed as the lack of food and drink bit and a headache developed but thankfully some Painstop took the edge off it and he fell asleep. Mum and Walter had called in to visit him enroute to Perth and that cheered him up a little bit.
When he awoke he was hungry, thirsty, in pain and not happy. I felt helpless and distressed myself seeing him in pain. I held his hand and fought back tears then encouraged him to breathe deeply and as he breathed out to relax all the parts of his body that were tensed up. I'm pleased to say this had a calming effect and not long after he fell back to sleep. The latest time estimate for the operation was 7.30pm!
It had been a long day and looked like being a long night.
I read my book, Mrs Holt Press knitted and did cryptic crosswords and we waited...
Finally the good news came, at about 6.15, they were ready for him in the operating theatre.
I kissed him and told him I loved him and they wheeled him off down the corridor, Mrs HP at his side to accompany him to theatre (only one parent allowed!).
I went and got some food for us both and we returned to waiting, reading, knitting, watching TV etc.
He was away a long time, longer than we'd anticipated but finally around 8.15 they said we could go down to the recovery room and bring him back to the ward, although again, only one parent was allowed. This time I went.
When I got there however, Sport Boy was not in good shape, he was distressed and in pain, sweaty and bleeding and not ready to go back to the ward. I tried to encourage him to take the oral pain medication the nurse was trying to administer but he couldn't handle the taste and in the end, despite his protests, he was given more morphine. Again it worked almost instantly, causing him to settle down and become sleepy but it was nearly another hour before they gave him the all clear to return to the ward. His pulse was up and they wanted to get it down a bit but in the end the anaethatist gave the go ahead and he was allowed out of post-op. He was semi-conscious and not in pain and when he got back to the ward fell asleep fairly quickly.
I rang Favourite Daughter and The Hair & Heir to update them on their little brother's progress and they were all relieved and sent their love and prayers.
That was my cue to depart. Mrs Holt Press has clocked on for the night shift, sleeping beside him on the fold out bed. There's another infant in the ward now who is not very happy and crying a lot so I hope for Sport Boy and Mrs HP's sake he has settled down by now and they're able to get some sleep.
SB will be in hospital at least until Friday.
No soccer for a few weeks and no Country Week training but as Country Week itself is not until October he should be well and truly recovered in time for that.
It's been a long night and day and night but the worst of it is over now and hopefully my beautiful little boy will make a swift recovery.