I think I’m slowly, mentally dying. And I guess that’s inevitable.
Things are pretty much fine around here.
We recently did the budget again and we have more debt then we have income. So we gotta get rid of some stuff. Easier said than done. We had a garage sale and only make $60. Better than nothing. I must seem like one uglyass stripper walking around with a wad of ones in my purse. But whatevs.
Being broke is nothing new. (and to think I was stupid enough to let the notion of having another child go through my head and get me excited)
Tosh was supposed to go for a routine (circumcision) surgery on Thursday. He had pre-op on Tuesday for a few hours. We had worked out a sleepover for Samya at a friends for that night. And Ben had to stay home from work to look after Teagan. I wasn’t allowed to watch him while I stayed with Tosh after surgery.
We got there early on Thursday morning for surgery. we got surgery clothes for Tosh and waited in the childrens waiting room for over an hour. Then they took us to a room with beds, put him under the blankets and told us to wait. An anesthesiologist came to the bed, looked over the paperwork that the nurse filled out upon check in and asked about my son sneaking in a cookie this morning.
we were told not to let him eat after midnight the night before. We had instructed him many times the day before. The morning of, we got Samya off to school and I specifically sat him down again, and told him absolutely NO FOOD. I repeated myself many times. I made him say it back to me. I said it over and over again. I made sure he was making eye contact. He seemed pretty secure on it when I went upstairs.
A few minutes later my husband went downstairs (he was home to take care of then sleeping Teagan) and found Tosh eating Oreos.
We couldn’t get out of him how many Oreos he actually ate before we got there. Talking to him is like talking to a brick wall. Everything just slides right past him. He absorbs nothing. When asked how many cookies he ate, he gave a different answer every time. Talking to him is extremely frustrating. He doesn’t seem to understand much of anything.
We called the hospital surgery clinic and told them of my sons infraction. They said no more food and to come in.
So after being at the hospital for around 2 hours, my sons urologist came in to say that if they waited the full 6 hours they’re supposed to after any food ingestion that it would be too late in the day to do the surgery.
Even though the front desk of surgery ward said we could come in anyway, they canceled the surgery for that day.
All the crap that went down the drain over a few Oreos. Made me super duper mad.
The surgery has been rescheduled and we’ll do it all again in a few weeks.
Hope anyone reading this is doing well. -me
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