A Dad’s Blog

Do you know what a crying child is?

A nuisance. Completely unnecessary. A minion sent by the Devil himself to ruin any audible pleasures that may exist for you.  He’s there to ruin your ability to think. To make you cringe and want to get as far away as possible.

And do so quickly.

Do you know what your crying child is?

Heartbreaking. A painful experience. It’s a moment in time that takes your breath away immediately yet causes you to react with ears tuned in like a hawk.

You can’t imagine how tough it is to willingly bring your child into a situation where you know they will cry. I don’t mean the “No daddy, I AM staying up to watch Cars for the 11,782nd time tonight and you can’t change that” kind of cry.

This is the “How in the hell did you just sit there and let them do THAT to me? TWICE!” type of cry.

It sucks.  It sucks and it hurts and it makes you feel like an awful parent, even if you know you’re doing the right thing.

And in that instant it makes you realize just how much love you can have for your child.

Camden is a tough kid.  I’ve seen him run straight into walls at the baby equivalent to mach one and get back up with a smile on his face, chubby cheeks all rosy and round. He climbs back on his feet, grabs whatever toy is nearby and screams AH-RAH! as his wobbly sprint propels him to his next destination.

It would be (and admittedly has been) adorable and hilarious if not for the split millisecond you wonder if he’s really hurt.

Cam’s tough shell disappears with the doctor’s office and immunizations though.  His normally high threshold for pain melts away and he becomes what he is; an innocent baby who has no idea what is about to happen to him.

This morning Camden went in for a checkup.  Everything looks good, he’s on track to be an outside linebacker for the Patriots and that’s great since we have NFL scouts calling us nightly.

Everything was wonderful until the assistant pierced his thigh twice, leaving a couple drops of blood and an absolutely scared, hurt and confused child…

How can your heart not melt when the single most important person in your world has been hurt before your eyes?

Of course the trouble is that these shots are necessary.

Without them Camden could expose himself to health risks.  No matter how remote of possibility rubella may be for my little man, it is a chance I simply will not take.   It’s that same protective gene as a parent that makes you realize something.

At about 3AM Camden woke up with a fussy cry, typical of his teething.  Being awake and working, I went in to see his hand in his mouth trying to pull at the teeth that were causing all the pain.  As he laid there so innocently, I couldn’t help but smile as I rubbed his back and watched him drift back to sleep.  It was the most rewarding part of being a parent.  The ability to make things better with nothing more than caring.

So… While I like to keep this site happy and upbeat, I needed to include a photo from Camden’s reaction after getting his shots.

It’ll serve as a reminder for me.

That the best thing to do is not always the easiest.

Camden’s surgery to have eustachian tubes put in both ears is over… and as I write this, he’s fast asleep and acting as though nothing at all happened.

If only the day were really that uneventful.

I woke up at about 7AM and Bethany was already scrambling around. We never got a call yesterday about when Camden would head into the hospital.  Having placed calls into the hospital, the ENT (ear nose and throat) specialist, and an answering service… We found out that Camden didn’t actually have an appointment at all.

Oy.

We were able to get him lined up as the first patient of the day, and we were at the hospital by 8:15.  Bethanyt ook care of the admitting paperwork while Camden and I tried to find a way to break into the gift shop that had a few too many Cars products on display. (Cars + Camden = lots and lots of happy screaming)

Once upstairs we seriously waited about an hour.  Mind you, we were first to go in.  Thankfully the room we were in had this cool mind match game with cards that were all characters from Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends.  Another love of Camden’s.

Shockingly, little man handled waiting really well considering he had been unable to eat or drink anything since 7:30PM Wednesday night.

Anyways… it was a complete hassle.  Lots of waiting.  Lots of screaming.  Lots of being uncomfortable in a shady ass hospital that none of us liked. Camden’s ENT is a saint.  I love her.  She’s great.  I just wish the people around her were half as awesomesauce.

Bethany went in when they administered anesthesia and we were escorted to a waiting area.  About 15 minutes later, the ENT came out and gave us the play by play as well as some post-op care notes.

All easy stuff.

We went upstairs, hung out for an hour to make sure there was no reaction to the anesthesia, and then were released from hell on Earth the hospital.

But what fun is a post here on A Dad’s Blog without the photos!?

Camden riding in the Britax on the way to the hospital…

Worst. Hospital. EVER.

Pre op room, here’s the Thomas & Friends game set I mentioned.  He LOVES anything with these guys on it.

Camden absolutely loved this wagon ride from the pre-op room to the anesthesia prep room.  I’m thinking a Radio Flyer is now in the cards.  Look at his face!

Always playful, Cam’s rocking the johnny and a hair net while we waste another hour waiting for the hospital to get their act together…

Obviously post op. And not happy.  This was as upset as he got all day long and I think my comment of “Hey little man, you’ve got one of those aquarium thermometer things on your head!” made him angry. In any case, this was short lived.

Learningz his ABCs, post op, watching the clock tick before we head on out.

And much later… Here’s Cam getting his nightly tubby on.  Notice the mug filled with spaghetti sauce.  This was also his first time wearing his new blue ear plugs to help keep water out.