"Say ahhhh, one big time and I won't have to do this again." The doctor said he did a great job. The doctor, that is. Humor for, he's healing nicely. Good doctor. Nice genuine guy. Made little man smile. Doc asked if he managed to make him sound like Mickey Mouse? Doc has done this twice a week for 35 years. I still say groggy froggy, a new. unique character. Not an old disney one. Didn't take much for him to get the mouth open either. First request. Nice and wide. All good. All the symptoms are natural. Progression is good. This time next week, he's 100%. He just needs to get back to eating. As alarming as it may look on an already little guy with a tight body, a loss of 5 pounds is the common average. Nice and short and easy visit. On the way out, we were told there is no charge for this visit - It's post-op. Surprising. As it should be, but certainly not expected given health care and our experience with it. We took it happily, though. And then in the car I think oh no, another week? He did say that? I thought I knew the schedule. Regardless. That's to 100%. In the meantime we continue the descent down the mountain of recovery.
Ups and downs fill each day. Downs usually cycle around the eating issue and occasional pain. Peaceful level to ups are in between. This evening's up was the local Chuck E Cheese type mini-golf/arcade place - Castle Park. Theo is a big collector of tickets. He likes those tickets you get from a skee ball machine or those kind of arcade games. The kind of ticket that Andy Warhol painted. The kind you usually trade in for some cheap plastic prize. Little man is usually more interested in keeping the tickets and counting his growing collection. It's usually not about the prize for him. Before I fell for his request of quite out of the blue at 5:30pm, he came to me and said "if you take me to Chuck E. Cheese," later we compromised on Castle Park place, "I'll put in $10 and you put in $10 and that way we don't have to spend all of just your money." He had $10 in hand from his money box (which has $100 and has been counted many times over the past days). He had me. He really closed the deal when after thinking about it for a moment he realized and said it was actually all my money anyway. Cause I originally gave him that money to begin with. So we went. And spent $25 on tokens. $5 dollars more and he owes me $2.50. He got 497 or so tickets. The most he's ever gotten here. This time he wanted the prizes. There is something not the same about these tickets. And there are just too many them. So he picked out prizes as the 16 year old girl at the counter subtracted on a calculator till it came down to a tootsie roll. From there, we went to the food part and I tried to get him to eat as I promised Orit. His problem definitely does not begin in the ordering stage. Earlier it was a hamburger at IN-n'-OUT. Now a slice of pizza here. On both occasions he ordered with free will and I was stuck eating them (with a gun pointed at my head). Two bites from him and the throat hurts. And that's that. But, can he have a slurpee? A red one? Dad? Fine. Orit did say anything. My mom said, if he wants sugar, give him sugar. I'm happy to just avoid drama right now. So red slurpee in hand, we walk through the glass doors and satisfied little man says "that was fun." And so it was. Still don't have a proper night routine. Not that we need one. He's out of school, has no obligations or commitments and we lead a far from routine life. He'll get his his routine back. I don't know if we'll ever really have it. But that's the beauty! Gotta go move little man from the couch to the his bed.
Ups and downs fill each day. Downs usually cycle around the eating issue and occasional pain. Peaceful level to ups are in between. This evening's up was the local Chuck E Cheese type mini-golf/arcade place - Castle Park. Theo is a big collector of tickets. He likes those tickets you get from a skee ball machine or those kind of arcade games. The kind of ticket that Andy Warhol painted. The kind you usually trade in for some cheap plastic prize. Little man is usually more interested in keeping the tickets and counting his growing collection. It's usually not about the prize for him. Before I fell for his request of quite out of the blue at 5:30pm, he came to me and said "if you take me to Chuck E. Cheese," later we compromised on Castle Park place, "I'll put in $10 and you put in $10 and that way we don't have to spend all of just your money." He had $10 in hand from his money box (which has $100 and has been counted many times over the past days). He had me. He really closed the deal when after thinking about it for a moment he realized and said it was actually all my money anyway. Cause I originally gave him that money to begin with. So we went. And spent $25 on tokens. $5 dollars more and he owes me $2.50. He got 497 or so tickets. The most he's ever gotten here. This time he wanted the prizes. There is something not the same about these tickets. And there are just too many them. So he picked out prizes as the 16 year old girl at the counter subtracted on a calculator till it came down to a tootsie roll. From there, we went to the food part and I tried to get him to eat as I promised Orit. His problem definitely does not begin in the ordering stage. Earlier it was a hamburger at IN-n'-OUT. Now a slice of pizza here. On both occasions he ordered with free will and I was stuck eating them (with a gun pointed at my head). Two bites from him and the throat hurts. And that's that. But, can he have a slurpee? A red one? Dad? Fine. Orit did say anything. My mom said, if he wants sugar, give him sugar. I'm happy to just avoid drama right now. So red slurpee in hand, we walk through the glass doors and satisfied little man says "that was fun." And so it was. Still don't have a proper night routine. Not that we need one. He's out of school, has no obligations or commitments and we lead a far from routine life. He'll get his his routine back. I don't know if we'll ever really have it. But that's the beauty! Gotta go move little man from the couch to the his bed.
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