3 years plus 6 was his age

Number 6 of 12 for Doctor Paige

Cute, curious, probably smarter than I

Mom nervous, consent sign without a cry

To the room, happy distract all in pretend

Mask, balloon, blow, we win in the end

Mom exits for her gate before it’s too late

Thirty minutes, eternity, it’s her long short wait

Mom goes quickly or she may faint

Nurses urge to hug, instead with betadine they paint

IV access quick, probably luck maybe skill

Intubation smooth, no cough, no bitter pill

Surgery routine, there is no mess

Talk of weather and sports to ward off the stress

Remove the tube not too deep or too light

No apparent reason he became too tight

Move deliberate, but slow as not to fright

Mask and O2

To see how he would do

No help, no breath, he turned ashen blue

All hands to help, no small talk now, all eyes on you

Heart rate past eighty, then fifty, then thirty

This child should be outside running, getting dirty

Break spasm break, think be cute and pink

Think atropine and epi as we are on the brink

Time slows down,

All else disappears

The child and the monitor,

Think only, no time for fear

Was it he, or the drugs, was I any blame

Cause it or save it, I lay no claim

The one deep breath, whether from me or from God

I care not and only nod

To the PACU, pink and not blue

Hurting a little, morphine will do

Mom is allowed, the child, they engage

No time to enjoy, 7 of 12 for Dr. Paige