Enough said about that.
Exciting news about Ben. The kid needs tubes in his ears, with the idea that once his ears are unclogged, he will start distinguishing the difference between 'book' and 'bike' and 'door' and 'drum' and be able to start communicating in more than just consonant sounds. And pointing. Lots of pointing.
According to his doctor, once the tubes are in, Ben should be out of speech therapy in 2-3 months tops. I am beyond relieved, especially since it seemed the more we've tried, the less progress Ben has been making with his word acquisition. He passed his hearing test, because the kid can hear sounds. Turns out, he just can't hear very clearly. Here's the kicker though. Because my baby is only 3 and prone to the wiggles, he will be under sedation. In the OR.
Outside of being buried alive, circular preschool songs, and the occasional flashback to childhood gas station trips, the one thing that can turn my blood cold is surgery. Yeah, I know. RN talking. But, I wouldn't work in an OR if they paid me to.
Do you know how low they keep the temperature in those places? I'd freeze to death within the first week.
Anyway.... the idea of my baby going under so the nice doctors can stick tubes down his eustachians have me a bit squeamish. But, I'm trying something new for me. I've decided I'm not going to think about it. Most of my problems in life seem to result after periods of extended thought. I think I need to start making changes and do research and that's when I end up doing crazy things like pulling up the front yard sod or impersonating a Spanish interpreter.
Although, for the record, sod is completely overrated. Especially in front yards.
The point is, if I let myself think too much about it, I'm going end up with a pile of books on hearing disorders, staying up all hours researching tube placement procedures on the internet, which is just gonna lead to me strong arming myself into the operation room to 'observe', which is just gonna make me that much more crazy for having witnessed.
Let's assume it's safe to say I need any sanity I have left at this point. Although, really, what's the point of sanity if all it gets you is a seat in the waiting room?
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