Friday, Liza had minor surgery to close an umbilical hernia. Our scene takes place Sunday afternoon.
INT. LIVING ROOM – AFTERNOON
This standard suburban living room is square and has all of its furniture away from the walls, leaving a continuous track around the center of the room. The MAN is in the living room. The GIRL enters and begins running laps around the room.
MAN
Hey, what’re you doing?
GIRL
Running a race. I’m racing my invisible friend Jai Alai.
The GIRL continues to run at top speed.
MAN
Is that hurting your stomach?
GIRL
Yeah. (beat) But I don’t care.
Exeunt omnes
Hmmm, is she on some kind of strange pain meds?
No, nothing stronger than acetaminophen or ibuprofen. She’s just tough!
Sounds like me when I had double hernia surgery (also at 4yo). That afternoon, I was apparently kicking like a donkey in the back yard.
When they unscrewed her bellybutton, her grit did not fall out.
Did you have any hilarity during the informed consent process? Kids pipe up with the most awesome self-descriptions of their procedure, like, “Dr. Bluestone will use his lightsaber on my tonsils,” or “The nurses put surfboards in my little sister’s lungs,” or “They are going to take a bite-opsy of my kidney.” How does Liza describe her experience?
Our main fun involved the anesthesia. When Eli had tubes put in his ears, his anesthesiologist handed him the gas mask and said, “Here, smell this. It smells like a monkey’s butt.” He excitedly told Liza that that was what her mask would smell like. “No,” she said. “I want mine to smell of puppies and rainbows.”