From Prom Dress To Ice Packs: The Trials of Being A Teen

See, it was good that we were busy right up until this Monday. Choir concerts, talent shows, proms, and lunch with friends at their farm on Sunday, all served to distract us from the dreaded Monday appointment: Olivia's wisdom teeth extraction. Routine as this particular procedure is, for a teen who rarely needs to visit the family physician and is in great health, and has had, thankfully, no reason for major medical intervention, having all four wisdom teeth removed is a big deal. Especially when it has to be done in the OR, as day surgery, under general anesthesia (Olivia's great health notwithstanding, she does, as a redhead, have particular medical considerations that made the hospital the safest place for her to be during the extraction.)

On Monday morning, Alex and I took Olivia to the hospital where she was checked-in and elderly lady nurses fussed over her for nearly an hour. Olivia was doing pretty well, emotionally, until they couldn't get an IV started in either hand, and eventually it was decided by all that once she had been put under anesthesia, they would insert the IV. After some extra cuddling and a little bit of advocacy on our parts, Alex and I watched Olivia get wheeled off to the OR.



To our great relief, Olivia's fabulous doctor arrived to tell us all went well and that she would soon be wheeled back to us for the duration of her recovery period at the hospital. The look of relief on her face when she was brought back to us was huge and we gave her lots of reassuring hugs and kisses. Alex and I laughed, much, at her drug-induced imperiousness (complete with extra loud speaking voice), mommy, yeah, don't stand there because there's these bunnies on the wall over there and I was looking at them because they are cute, and lots of ordering me around, having me find more guinea pig pictures for her to focus on while the rather overwhelming effects of the anesthesia wore off. She reported that she had also bossed around the recovery room nurse, Mike, who was probably expecting her to wake up crying, not admonishing him with somebody needs to be beside my bed! Along with her bossiness, it was the self-satisfied huh, yeahs that followed every command that made me cry-laugh the most. Olivia was laughing too, well, as much as possible, and she kept saying, (very loudly, with much eye-rolling) I don't know what I'm doing! This was extra cute when she had orange sherbet dribbling down the chin strap of her JawBra.



Relieved to be home, her day and days since, have been spent simply being cared for by us. We've logged many hours of bad tv and Alex has made at least two batches of mashed potatoes, extra smooth. Max the cat took a awhile to come around; he's not too keen on Olivia's latest fashion. Ginger, however, has seen fit to overlook such things as long as there's a space for her on the comforter.




She's healing well (knock on wood) and the though the pain medicine still makes her feel loopy, it is working well. She's been pretty great, actually. And it's been a pleasure to sit with her, keep her company, feed her soft foods and change the ice in her fancy headgear (that she wore for nearly 72 hours straight). This attachment parenting gig doesn't suddenly end because our kids are teens.



Those teeth of hers are out and she doesn't have to worry about that procedure any longer. From fancy black prom dress on Friday to orange sherbet stained JawBra on Monday, it's been a whirlwind week!