Just more waiting. Annika went back to the O.R. almost 11 hours ago now. I sang her her favorite hospital song, a rather repetitive tune I made up to a Shel Silverstein poem back when she was a baby.
Bear in There
By Shel Silverstein
There’s a Polar Bear
In our Frigidaire—
He likes it ’cause it’s cold in there.
With his seat in the meat
And his face in the fish
And his big hairy paws
In the buttery dish,
He’s nibbling the noodles,
He’s munching the rice,
He’s slurping the soda,
He’s licking the ice.
And he lets out a roar
If you open the door.
And it gives me a scare
To know he’s in there—
That Polary Bear
In our Fridgitydaire.
Annika only asks to hear this song when she's in the hospital. And then only when she's scared, and about to be sedated for something.
I always feel bad when I hit the line about being scared. I didn't choose the poem for its meaning way back then; it was just fun and easy to memorize and easy to sing. Most importantly, it wasn't "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star," the 6 notes of which wore out their welcome pretty quickly.
But now she's older, and she listens to lyrics when I sing. I worry about sending her off to anesthesia with a song about scary things lurking in unexpected places. Who knows what kids dream about when they're under? Do they dream? About scary polar bears?
That's the song she asks for, though, every time she's scared. Maybe just to hear that it's OK to be scared, and OK to sing about it. I don't know.
Jörg noticed that the time stamp on my posts is off by 2 hours (earlier). Evidently Typepad moved me to California sometime during their recent upgrades. I can't change it back right now (for kind of boring technical reasons that I won't elaborate), so I'll have to remember to mentally add 2 hours to every post if I ever reconstruct this timeline.
I tried Kathy A's alcohol hand gel remedy for greasy, overly stressed, underly styled hair. I ended up looking a tad bit like John Travolta in that movie(s?) where he had the really strange stiff hair.
But then I remembered that I did own a comb, and, what do you know, I think there may have been some improvement. Thanks, Kathy!