Scratchy Eyes

On October 1 I took Grace to the surgery center in our eye doctor's building to have the teeny metal speck and rust ring removed from her eye.  We had to wait only a few minutes before we were called back.  First they weighed her and checked her height, then took her temperature, blood pressure, and pulse.  Then they asked that she take off her clothes and put on the hospital gown.  She didn't like the idea of taking off her underwear, but she cooperated.

The nurses then came back and informed us that the doctor's first surgery didn't show up so there were going to hustle to get us back quickly.  Then came the series of eye drops. 

Grace has always done well with eye drops.  Logan has always hated eye drops.  For the first set she did pretty well.  Then there was the second set.  And the third.  Let's just say she wasn't a happy camper after them.  Then they gave her a little cup of medicine to drink.  It was supposed to make her a little loopy, thereby making the separation portion of our day less painful.  The nurse told her to take it like a shot.

Seriously?  She's six.  I informed the nurse that Grace had no idea what that even meant, considering we don't do shots at our house.

After a few minutes of cuddling, they were ready to take her back.  And dang it if she didn't cry and I felt miserable.  I mean, she would survive with the little thing in her eye, right?  Let's just go home.  But they took her anyway I managed to hold in the tears.

I waited about 30 minutes before the doctor came out to tell me everything went great.  He got the rust cleaned out and gave her a very thorough eye exam and her eyes looked great.  He said when she woke up her eye may feel itchy, but some Tylenol and a cold washcloth should help.  After another 10 minutes, the nurse came and got me to take me back.

Well, when I got to her bed she was crying, fussing because her eye hurt, saying she couldn't see.  In short, she was a mess and more than a little out of sorts.  I tried to hold her, but after a few seconds she would just flop back on the pillow like it wasn't even worth the effort.  Eventually, the nurse gave her some Tylenol, a wet washcloth, and a popsicle, and she started to calm down a bit.  She was still fussy, just a little less so.  She was extrememly unhappy about the IV needle in her hand, altough Lord knows she couldn't actually feel it.  She just minded the idea of it.

Then the nurse mentioned that the Tylenol had a mild sedative in it so she should take a good nap when we got home.  I was finally able to get her dressed and we wheeled her out to the car.  She was out like a light on the ride home and slept about 2 hours after that.  She was okay when she woke up and had a little something to eat.  It was easy to tell the second the Tylenol wore off, though.  Once I drugged her up again (without the sedative) she was fine.

The rest of the day was lazy, which was what she needed.  We went and picked up Taco Bell for dinner at her request.  She told me later that after I left her they put a mask over her face and told her it would smell like nail polish.  The next thing she knew they were offering her popsicles before I reappeared.  A week later I think she's forgotten all about it.

And life goes on.