What a Day

I started this earlier today.

TJ had four teeth extracted this morning. He had bone grafts on three of the sockets, which I only mention because it sounds so hardcore to me. In any case, we'd both been dreading this day, and I'd been stressing out about the childcare aspect of it. I had a hard time finding a sitter, but everything worked out at the last minute. E had a great time with Kat, who he's met several times before. She takes care of another baby in our '07 group. She stayed after I brought TJ home so I could go fill his numerous prescriptions and get him medicated before the numbness wore off.

He's now in bed with an ice pack, and Eamon is starting to stir from his nap. I think I'll take him to a park this afternoon since he hasn't been out today yet.

I didn't get much sleep last night (maybe four hours), but I've been in a kind of manic overdrive all day, so it hasn't mattered. I plan to make some potato leek soup after E's in bed. Last night was very windy--a cold front moved in--and our bedroom wall was creaking this horrible creak that never fails to drive me insane. Sometime after midnight I moved into the guest room/my office and slept fitfully in there until E woke up . . . at 5:15. I let TJ sleep in until after 8:00 because he wasn't supposed to have any food or liquid before his appointment, and I figured sleeping in would make that easier. It made for a helluva long morning for me and E, though.

It's sad seeing TJ in the position of "patient." That's a category I've been in many times in our relationship, but the tables have rarely (never, in fact) been turned. I went back with him for the pre-op stuff this morning, and it was unsettling to see the big guy laying there with tubes coming out every which way and a mask on his face. Vulnerable. I'm glad we're all home now. E and I are going to pick up Luby's for dinner. It's close by, and they have lots of soft foods that TJ can eat. Hopefully the next forty-eight hours will go by quickly.

One thing I've discovered is that being the caretaker is much preferable to being the patient. That's obvious, but has never felt so obvious to me. It sucks being the one who is in pain, who has to rest, who's doped up and out of it, who can't eat certain things, etc., while those around you are chowing down on burritos or enjoying some wine or whatever.

And now it's the evening and time to make that soup. I can't wait for bed.