Cameron's tonsillectomy was the first occasion that my ex-wife and I had to show some solidarity after our divorce. Cam kept getting sick and his pediatrician thought it would be a good idea to have his tonsils out.
The day came and we arrived at the hospital together as a family. Once all the preliminaries were taken care of, Cameron was given a mild sedative which he seemed to really enjoy and we waited until it was his turn to go under the knife.
When the orderlies came to take him away, a nurse directed my ex and me to a waiting area. After 90 minutes or so of mostly awkward silence (we were new at divorce) a nurse appeared and asked us to follow her. As we were walking she told us that Cameron had a bad reaction to the anesthesia. This was something that wasn't that unusual she said, and if the parents are present, it helps to calm the child.
While we were putting on the surgical gowns we had to wear, I heard a high pitched scream. I turned to my Ex and said "That's Cameron" and I immediately started moving to the source of the screaming. I started to cry. Don't know why.
As I rounded the corner I saw a row of beds that made up the recovery area. There was Cameron on the last one, standing up, pulling the intravenous lines out of his arm. He was screaming like a wild man. He reminded me of Linda Blair in "The Exorcist". A nurse moved forward to grab him and he landed a sideways fist right on her nose. Another nurse went to grab his legs and he kicked her in the boob.
The Ex came up behind me and seeing the action was a lot less freaked out than I was. She called Cameron's name until our son looked at her. She moved forward to hold him and at the same time, he collapsed in her arms.
While it might not have been too unusual for someone to have a bad reaction to the anesthetic our son got a lot of attention from the anesthesiologist. He had arrived on the scene between the punch in the face and the boob kick. He told us that this was the first time he had seen anyone no matter what size be able to do what our son did so soon after being knocked out.
That's my boy.
So this picture was taken the following day at my place. I lived in the carriage house of a small estate. It was pretty and comfortable and the perfect place for my son to recuperate for the next 4 days. That is when I made this picture. It is one of my favorites. Cameron could only speak in a high squeaky and very cute voice. It was the first time that I got to do something special or important or necessary as a divorced dad who really missed living with his sons.
Unfortunately, the only copy of this picture is a very small print, maybe 2 and 1/2 inches in length that had to be scanned. There are reasons.
I love this image and the memory.