While this really isn't about living in the burbs I thought I should write it down for posterity (whatever that is).
A few years ago our 6 year old, Harry, was diagnosed with something called Brown's Syndrome or as Colleen and I called it "wonky eye." Basically Brown's Syndrome is a disorder where the muscles that control the up and down movement of your eyeball are too tight so your eyes are misaligned. In order to look straight ahead you have to tip your head back a bit and sometimes when you try to look up your eyes go all kinds of crazy ... when this happened for the first time I almost called a priest to get the devil out of the poor boy.
In most cases Brown's Syndrome goes away as the kid gets older but in some cases (see: Harry) you need to have an operation to loosen the muscles on the top and side of the eye so they can work properly. It's a simple procedure can takes about 15 minutes but because they are operating on a 6 year old's eyeball it's best to have the youngster under general anesthesia. The recovery is fairly straightforward and the kids can go about their normal lives the same day with no patches or bandages or anything.
I had noticed that Harry's eyes were getting especially wonky over the spring and summer so we made an appointment to see the doctor about surgery. As soon as Harry sat down in the chair the doc knew that the condition had gotten worse. Just by looking at the angle of his head he could tell that we needed to put the boy under the knife ... he wasn't that dramatic about it but whenever you put the words "eye" and "surgery" together in a sentence it takes me to a bad place.
The plan was to knock this surgery out and then settle in to a stack of Sponge Bob Square Pants DVDs for the rest of the day. Harry needed to be at the hospital at 6:30 so he could drink a sedative before they put him all the way under.
We got into the prep room and Harry downed the sedative drink in one gulp (that's my boy!). It didn't take too long for him to start acting like daddy in college ... the nurses told me that Harry was a "cheap date."
At the same time that Harry is bombed out of his skull, I slip into a hairnet, mask and body suit before picking this drunk kid up and hauling him into surgery. Once we're in there I lay him on the table and they cover his nose and mouth with a mask and in about five seconds he's out. I'm led away to the waiting room to hang with Colleen.
Fast forward about 30 minutes and the doctor comes out to tell us that the surgery was a success. We're told to go hang with Harry in the recovery room and wait for him to wake up. He looks pretty good ... if totally zonked and both Colleen and I were incredibly happy to have this procedure over. That feeling lasted until Harry woke up.
Once he started to come out of the fog Harry started screaming immediately. I guess that counts as normal for a kid coming out of eye surgery and anesthesia so we just thought it was a common reaction ... but then he wouldn't stop.
After trying to calm him down in the recovery room to no avail, Colleen and I both decided that we should just grab the kid and get the hell back to NJ. The nurse pulled the IV out of his leg and I picked him up and headed for the elevator.
Once we got in the car I gunned it and headed for the Lincoln Tunnel. At this point Harry is literally cursing the doctor and not opening his eyes. Colleen decides that we need Motrin for the ride home (I suggested we just head back immediately but I was out voted). I parked in a loading zone behind a truck and Colleen ran into a Duane Reade on 33rd Street. While she's inside and Harry is screaming the truck driver started knocking on my window telling me to move the car. I'm just about at the breaking point but I move it a little so they can load up their truck or whatever. Colleen is still inside when the guy comes back and needs me to move the car again.
This is where you have one of those classic New York moments when you see someone absolutely lose their mind on the street. I don't remember exactly what I said but think it involved telling the truck driver to do something terrible to his mother. Just then Colleen jumps back in the car like Starsky and we're out of there. All this time Harry has not stopped screaming.
We get back home about 30 minutes later and Harry still won't open his eyes and is still screaming. This goes on for about three hours. Fun! Once we get him calmed down we install him in the basement and cover every window with blankets so that it's completely dark. Then we just hang out and wait for his eyes to get better ... but they don't and we start to get really worried.
That night was rough. I slept in Harry's room and he was up pretty much all night. The next morning he was not better and Colleen calls the doctor. Turns out he has already heard from three other sets of his patient's parents that morning all with the same problem ... screaming kids who won't open their eyes.
Here is what he says he thinks happened: when the nurse was prepping the kids for surgery he/she was supposed to wash their eyes with an antiseptic and then wash the skin around their eyes with a special soap ... only they switched those up and washed all four kids eyes with this super powerful soap. Hence the screaming kids.
This is getting long so I'll give you the highlights of the next few days:
The good news is that we just got back from a follow up visit with the eye doctor and Harry has made a full recovery. The surgery was a success and his eyes are no longer light sensitive.
When we were there Harry asked what had happened to the nurse that did that to his eyes ... the reply was that she's on a very long vacation.
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It also sounds like Harry knew exactly what his eyes needed - better than the doctors or his parents did anyway. It's too bad you weren't warned about this possible reaction.
I'm glad to hear he's made a full recovery; it's such a relief, isn't it?