A Big Day

I've started to think about the whole medical side of charlies life as its own, separate journey. If that's the analogy, today was a major turning point in that road. Charlie had an appointment at Sick Kids and, although still not normal, our airs-on-the-side of caution cardiologist, Dr. D., says 'His echo's looking WAY better!'.

Whoa.

So, let's tell this story chronologically. We decided rather than spend the 2+ hours in the car to get down to the city, we'd take Charlie on the train and subway. WHAT a great decision. Charlie had a great time, we were able to relax, and we got to the hospital in just over an hour. It's funny that we finally figured out the public transit option on what was ended up being the day we were discharged to once-a-year hospital visits.

We got down to the hospital, had a tea and went up to our appointment. We had our weigh in and BP done first with one of our lovely nurse practitioners, Kristen, who was so happy to see Charlie. But, seemingly bad news abounded: I wasn't happy with charlies weight gain initially (+400gms in 6 months) AND Kristen told us we weren't going to be able to switch to twice-a-day meds because Charlie wasn't 4 yet. I almost cried, since that was the ONE thing we were really hoping for at this appointment. I'm sure the disappointment was written all over my face (I haven't trouble hiding how I'm feeling!) because Matt took over the conversation. We were sent to echo.

Charlie did really well at his echo. He doesn't like having his blood pressure taken, so those were the only times he got whiny. Other than that, he did really well. We put on a Toopy & Binoo and he just laid there and let the overly-sweet tech get her pictures.

We reported back to ECG and Faith, the tech who did charlies initial ECG when he was diagnosed, happened to be with us again. Charlie did well and we reported to 'Room 8' for results.

At this point, matt and I were feeling anxious but also defeated. As far as we knew, we were sticking with the 11pm bedtimes AND dispite months of seeming to eat better, charlies weight wasn't anything to write home about.

Then, Dr. Dipchand and Kristen entered with big smiles, Dr. D. says 'So, his echo looks WAY better, you can go to meds twice a day, and we're taking him off the Warfarin. You also don't need to come back for a year!'. Matt and I sat in stunned silence for about 5 seconds, as Dr. D. and Kristen sat staring expectantly at us, smiling. Both looking at us with that 'Well...? Isn't that great?' eyebrows up look. Matt and I eventually got over our shock, and held it together until they left the room. At which point Matt turned to me for a happy hug and I started to weep.

Sometimes, being pregnant and overly emotional sucks.

We saw our genetic counsellor next (everything is still fine with Booboo, the fetus) and our dietician, who told us our final good news - that Charlie's weight gain was just fine for his growth curve.

In the end, this was by far the best clinic day we've had at Sick Kids. It's funny that we were hopeful, then crushed, then elated. We ran the gamut of emotions and diagnosises in about an hour. And Charlie's doing great. :)

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fun.

Apologies, apologies. The audience of this blog never ceases to amaze me. Now that a) Charlie is doing spectacularly well and b) I don't have an hour every night by myself in the dark, it's difficult to make time to write on here. I shall make a better effort, though. Monthly, at least?

The Thomas household is fine. It's great. It's wonderful! We are having so much fun around here these days. The DCM looms over us constantly (Matt and I are crazy, basically) but it's easy to forget about it on a daily, minute-to-minute basis when Charlie is doing so well. We have our moments - moments that are not normal for average parents (Charlie didn't gain enough wait last month, a friend from the hospital has been listed for her transplant - these things make us crazier) but generally, life is pretty good.

I remember when Charlie was first diagnosed, Matt saying that all the 'stuff' (meds, syringes, tubes, etc) would just become our 'new normal'. I was skeptical, but it did. I can't imagine NOT prepping Charlie's meds for the next 24 hours every day around 3pm, or NOT knowing my way around Sick Kids. It's strange. We were visiting friends of ours with a 18-mont old baby girl, and I went to change her diaper. I was - startled it the only word that fits - when I lifted up her shirt and there was no g-tube on her tummy. It was the weirdest feeling. I said aloud to her 'oh, what a nice tummy you have!' While she looked at me like I was nuts. Because I am, a little, I think. :)

Charlie has a sedate echo in April 12th. We'll get more real information then, but if his energy level is anything to judge by, he is doing just fine, enlarged heart or not. Case in point:

I am so, so glad we chose to have me home and with Charlie for these 2.5 years. I'm headed back to work in the fall - part time - and the closer it inches, the more I realize what a special time this has been. Library time, swimming lessons, baby yoga...and dance par-tees.

That's the non-news from around here. Thanks, as always, for reading.

Carry on, by fun.

Well I woke up to the sound of silence

And cries were cutting like knives in a fist fight

And I found you with a bottle of wine

Your head in the curtains

And heart like the Fourth of July

You swore and said,

"We are not,

We are not shining stars"

This I know,

I never said we are

Though I've never been through hell like that

I've closed enough windows to know you can never look back

If you're lost and alone

Or you're sinking like a stone

Carry on

May your past be the sound

Of your feet upon the ground

Carry on

Carry on, carry on

So I met up with some friends at the edge of the night

At a bar off 75

And we talked and talked about how our parents will die,

All our neighbours and wives

But I like to think I can cheat it all

To make up for the times I've been cheated on

And it's nice to know when I was left for dead

I was found and now I don't roam these streets

I am not the ghost you are to me

If you're lost and alone

Or you're sinking like a stone

Carry on

May your past be the sound

Of your feet upon the ground

Carry on

Whoa

My head is on fire but my legs are fine

After all they are mine

Lay your clothes down on the floor

Close the door, hold the phone

Show me how no one’s ever gonna stop us tonight

'Cause here we are

We are shining stars

We are invincible

We are who we are

On our darkest day

When we’re miles away

Sun will come

We will find our way home

If you're lost and alone

Or you're sinking like a stone

Carry on

May your past be the sound

Of your feet upon the ground

Carry on

 

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Time

One year ago today, we received devastating news about Charlie. He had a huge heart, a huge liver, was retaining fluid, and things didn't look good. We were admitted and this secondary journey - the journey parallel to being a parent - began.

A year later, we are grateful to have Charlie in our lives, alive and well. His boundless energy and never-ending smiles, his tantrums and mood swings, naps and feeding schedules - its all a blessing and we cherish each and every moment. The other night, Charlie woke up at 4am and started to cry. I went in to rock him, and as I sat down, and turned to me with still-sleepy eyes and kissed me on the mouth. He then tucked his head into my shoulder and went back to sleep. He just wanted a kiss! And a year ago, while he was so sick,that kind of magical moment seemed out of reach and improbable at best.

He has a huge heart, and a good heart. He goes for echos and ECGs and Holters and has lots of nurses who would like to adopt him and/or be his girlfriend. Charlie is remarkable, adorable, frustrating, trying, intelligent and emotional. He is everything we wanted and more. I can't imagine a more different place from a year ago today. I am thankful for the support of good friends and family. And we look forward to continuing to share each moment with our special little boy.

 

Time - Pink Floyd

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day

You fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand way

Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town

Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain

You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today

And then the one day you find ten years have got behind you

No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking

And racing around to come up behind you again

The sun is the same in the relative way, but you're older

And shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time

Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines

Hanging on in quiet desparation is the English way

The time is gone the song is over, thought I'd something more to say

Home, home again

I like to be here when I can

When I come home cold and tired

It's good to warm my bones beside the fire

Far away, across the field, tolling on the iron bell

Calls the faithful to their knees

And hear the softly spoken magic spell

 

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No more drama.

The last few weeks have been tough. Charlie hasn't really been 'well' since we left the hospital post-g-tube - he always seems to have a fever or be lethargic or vomiting. We have made a few trips to emergency departments - once down to Sick Kids because we thought his side look distended (a sure sign of fluid retention) and once because of his 39.9C fever. Then, early Tuesday morning, things to a turn for a worst.

I heard him around 2:45 quietly whining to himself. This is SO unlike him - he's usually asleep or screaming for me to come in and snuggle. He is not generally whiny. But there he was, on the monitor, whining away. Quietly. To himself. I thought perhaps he had rolled on his g-tube, so I quietly went in, only to be greeted by a pair of wet eyes and outstretched arms. I picked him up and as I did so...saw vomit. Everywhere. With blood in it.

Yes, blood.

I put Charlie down, went and got Matt (who was sleeping with the fan on and wouldn't have been able to hear me had I called) and by the time I got back, Charlie was vomiting MORE (how the child even had any more in his tummy is beyond me, and the realm of science) and panicking in his crib. I held him as he threw up and then went into uber-mom mode. I detached him from his pump, carried him to our room, ran a warn bath and got in the bath with him. By this point, Charlie was so entertained by the fact Mummy and he were getting in the bath in our CLOTHES he forgot about being upset.

Matt called the cardiologist on-call, who eventually directed us down to Sick Kids. I say 'eventually' because he was just a fellow (cardiologist in training) and he had to call the real cardiologist to consult before he could tell us to come. By the time he called us back, we were packed for an overnight and at the door, waiting. We would have been going whether or not he called back.

I set the cruise at 120 km/h and we sailed down to Toronto. There isn't a lot of traffic at 4am. It's lovely.

From there, things were pretty efficient, although I had to get all Mama Bear on the emergency nurses. They were trying to put in an IV into Charlie's very dehydrated, 'flat' veins and couldn't get it in. The poor kid would cry every time they poked him, and then fall asleep between attempts. After two tries, I asked WHY they were putting in an IV. They told me it was 'just in case' he needed fluids later. So, I told them he wouldn't be getting an IV unless he actually needed one, and they could just find someone who KNEW WHAT THEY WERE DOING for the blood draw.

Charlie didn't get an IV, and they found the Vampire Nurse who got blood from his arm, no problem. :S

We ended up spending the night there (so, from 5am Tuesday to noon on Wednesday) but all of Charlie's cultures came back negative. It's been deemed a 'virus' (thanks, specific doctors!) and we're just to ride it out. We also got some of his g-tube healing issues worked out while there, and we also met the new cardiologist follow from Singapore who is LOVELY, and took the time to explain to us how Charlie's Ejection Fraction is measured. We really appreciated his candor and kindness, and the fact he didn't assume we were stupid.

We also found out while there that Charlie's BNP (a hormone variant that informs heart failure) is now in the NORMAL levels. Amazing. It's 72, which is great for someone who has been in heart failure before. When we were admitted last August it was 1100. :(

So, that's the news. I am ready for some major regular-ness. Eating, normal days, healing arms and elbows, and no more drama. Please.

No More Drama - Mary J. Blige

So tired

Tired of all this drama

You go your way

I go my way (no more no more no more)

I wanna be free

(singin)

Broken heart again

Another lesson learned

You better know your friends

Or else you will get burned

Gotta count on me

Cuz i can garuntee that i'll be fine

No more

No more pain (no more pain)

No more pain (no more pain)

No drama, no more in my life (no more drama in my life no ones gonna make me hurt again)

Why'd i play the fool

Go through ups n downs

Knowing all the time

You wouldn't be around

Or maybe i liked the stress

Cuz i was young n restless

But that was long ago

I don't wanna cry no more

No more pain (no more pain x2 )

No more game (no more games messin with my mind)

No drama (no more drama in my life no ones gonna make me hurt again, no more~)

No more tears (no more tears i'm tired of cryin every nite)

No more fears (no more fears i really don't wanna cry)

No drama (no more drama in my life i don't ever wanna hurt again)

Wanna speak ma mind wanna speak ma mind

Uhhhh it feels so good

When you let go

Of all the drama in your life

Now you're free from all the pain

Free from all the games

Free from all the stress

So find your happiness

I don't know

Only god knows where the story ends for me

But i know where the story begins

Its up to us to choose

Whether we win or lose

And i choose to win

Ohhhh...

No more pain (no more~, tired)

No more game (no more games i'm tired, i'm so tired)

No drama (no more x7)

Background Singers : (No More Drama) x4

MJB:NO More

I'm tired of all this drama

Go 'head go 'head

U demons getting out of my face

Go get out of my life

I'm about to lose my mind

NO.....

Help me help me sing

Choir : (NO MORE DRAMA) x6

MJB: No More Drama

No more, no more, uhh. Yeah~

No more, no more drama

Ohh help me sing

I need a (peace of mind x3)

Yeah i need

Hide but nicely i need to know that u r free

Oh nox2

No morex2

No more dramax2

In my in my... life.

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Home.

We are finally, thankfully, restfully home. Our 48 - 72 hour recovery time turned into 6 days in the hospital - longer then our original stay when Charlie was diagnosed. He had setback after setback, albeit minor ones, and every day just dragged out to the eventual conclusion that meant another stay. It got very tedious by the end.

Tuesday was probably the easier, Charlie-wise. We got to the hospital early, as expected, and had a nice relaxing tea while we waited to be admitted. Then, we were taken to the step-down room in the cardiac ward, and from there it was vitals, transport, and by 11:00am we were in pre-op. we waited there for what seemed like FOREVER (they were having trouble locating the pediatric cardiac anesthesiologist, so we were happy to wait for him!). They finally look him around noon. Charlie had already fallen asleep on his own, so they just out the sedative through his NG tube and away he went. We got some lunch and went to wait.

It really seemed like no time at all before they were coming to get us to see him! We only apart for about an hour and a half, but I thought the time would drag. I guess we had good distractions (iPad, crazy people in the waiting area).

So, he was still asleep when we saw him (which was awesome; I had been having dreams of him waking up, and not seeing us (well, me, really) and freaking out). He woke up slowly and was fine, initially. We were taken back up to cardiac (4D) and he spent the rest of the day sleeping, kind of waking up and crying because he was thirsty. I started (without nurses permission, but whatever) giving him wet facecloths to suck on. It was pretty sad.

On Wednesday, things turn a turn. Charlie started getting a fever and turning red and flushed. By the afternoon, his fever leaked at 103.5F (with tylenol) and he was waking up from his many naps shaking and screaming. It was really scary. We had a lot of nurse and doctor visits, but ultimately we had to just let it run it's course. His fever broke over night and he was getting better by Thursday. He also pulled out his NG tube that day, negating any dreams I had of having a 'no more NG tube!' party.

Sick. :(

From there, the next four days pretty much went like this each day: wake up, eat, sleep, wake up, eat, barf, sleep, wake up, have slightly less, play, sleep, eat, sleep. Notice: no poops, and barfs - neither of which were good things. His little system took forever to gear up. But on Monday, finally, he started pooping normally without...ahem...'assistance'...and keeping down most of his feeds.

Awaiting the poop fairly.

There is occasionally a real lack of common sense in the medical profession. For example: Charlie used to throw up all the time, and only stopped when we started cruising during feeds. Makes sense, right? We're dumping in formula to his tummy, and after a certain amount, if he's not using it, he's losing it. When he started cruising, he started using it. Well, at the hospital, he was sitting for entire feeds (because where are you going to cruise around in your hospital room?) and not moving much between feeds, either. Also, he's had less in 4 days then he would have had in ONE at home, AND he went 72 hours without a thing in his tummy. OF COURSE he is going to throw up for a while while his tummy recovers its previous size, and while he heals and recovers from the surgery itself. Duh!

So, when the doctor who didn't know Charlie said that because he threw up, we may need to stay one...more...night...I literally laughed. I would have just left without being discharged! After explaining the situation to him, though, and getting him to talk to our team, he 'was willing to let us go'. Geeeee, thanks. :S

We were so lucky in the hospital to have good friends and family visit and (more importantly), bring FOOD! We were at the hospital for 6 days and we only bought ONE dinner. Amazing. Thank you to everyone who visited, or sent food, or even just Facebooked or emailed with words of encouragement. That made it much easier.

Ready to go with our new bravery beads!

So, we are home. Charlie is willingly wearing his backpack and being pumped while cruising, and I'm thrilled he's not complaining about it. :) I'm ready to start trying new schedules, but I don't think Charlie is. Hopefully, once we've been back on the old schedule for a week, we'll get going on something new, and easier. Library classes at 11am, here we come! :)

Home - Michael Buble

Another summer day

Has come and gone away
In Paris and Rome
But I wanna go home
Mmmmmmmm
May be surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Oh, I miss you, you know
And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you
Each one a line or two
“I’m fine baby, how are you?”
Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enough
My words were cold and flat
And you deserve more than that
Another aeroplane
Another sunny place
I’m lucky, I know
But I wanna go home
Mmmm, I’ve got to go home
Let me go home
I’m just too far from where you are
I wanna come home
And I feel just like I’m living someone else’s life
It’s like I just stepped outside
When everything was going right
And I know just why you could not
Come along with me
'Cause this was not your dream
But you always believed in me
Another winter day has come
And gone away
In even Paris and Rome
And I wanna go home
Let me go home
And I’m surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
Oh, let me go home
Oh, I miss you, you know
Let me go home
I’ve had my run
Baby, I’m done
I gotta go home
Let me go home
It will all be all right
I’ll be home tonight
I’m coming back home

Good Vibrations

Charlie goes in for his surgery one week from today. One week from this moment, I will be watching him sleep at Sick Kids, recovering from his first surgery. Matt and I have struggled with this decision, as many of you know, with the Great Tube Takeout of 2012. I still wonder (and probably always will) whether this was really the right decision. He loves his solids and is doing so well...it's possible that he'd just figure out he needs to drink, but it's unlikely and so we're left with the other, best choice.

I'm actually not worried about the after-surgery stuff. I know we'll keep the site clean, we'll have him in his little 'gay' shirt to hold down his tube, we'll probably love the pump and the time it allows him to scurry around. What we are worried about is the surgery itself. The head of anesthesia (who was lovely - which, from my albeit limited experience, seems to be a rarity in anesthesiologists (thank you autocorrect)) reallllly put the fear of god in me in regards to Charlie being knocked out. He said that because the anesthesia affects the left side of the heart more, they'd have to more carefully monitor Charlie and make sure his heart could take it, and that he'd find a pediatric cardiac anesthesiologist (and how long did THEY have to go to school for?!) to take care of him. I'm pretty sure that hour or three is going to be the longest wait of our lives.

Rock Star Baby: 'Could you keep it down? Last night was wild, man.'

So, in the meantime, we are kind of pretending nothing is happening next week. We're just hanging out - Charlie is really becoming a toddler and less of a baby every day - and enjoying the summer weather that is finally here. Partly, the living day-to-day is because we are getting our basement finished and it eats every waking thought that isn't about Charlie. when we get home from the hospital, we'll have an exercise space, a TV space, and a Charlie-dedicated reading and playing area space. Sooooo exciting.

For the next week, we are just enjoying the last of this schedule and looking forward to the next. Bring on the g-tube.

 

Good Vibrations - Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch

Yeah
can you feel it baby
I can too

Come on swing it (4x)
1 - 2 - 3 - now we come to the pay off

(Chorus:)
It's such a good vibration
It's such a sweet sensation (2x)

Yo it's about that time
to bring forth the rhythm and the rhyme
I'm a get mine so get yours
I wanna see sweat comin' out your pores
On the house tip is how I'm swinging this
strictly hip hop boy I ain't singing this
Bringing this to the entire nation
black, white, red, brown
feel the vibration

Come on come on
Feel it feel it
Feel the vibration

(Chorus)

Vibrations good like Sunkist
Many wanna know who done this
Marky Mark and I'm here to move you
Rhymes will groove you
And I'm here to prove to you
that we can party on the positive side
and pump positive vibes
so come along for the ride
Making you feel the rhythm is my occupation
so feel the vibration
Come on come on
Feel it feel it
Feel the vibration

(Chorus)

Donnie D break it down

Donnie D's on the back up
Drug free so put the crack up
No need for speed
I'm anti d-r-u-g-g-i-e my
body is healthy
And rhymes makes me wealthy
And the funky bunch helps me
to bring you a show with no intoxication
Come on feel the vibration

Yeah
Can you feel it baby
I can too

(Chorus)

Now the time has come for you to get up
The rest had you fed up but yo I won't let up
on the rhythm and rhyme thats designed to
make your behind move to what I'm inclined to
Pure hip hop no sell out
If you ain't in it to win it
then get the hell out
I command you to dance
I wanna see motivation
Come on now feel the vibration

It's such a good vibration
Come on come on come on
Its such a sweet sensation
Feel it feel it

 

Adventures

The great thing about a really shitty week is that when things start to go well again, you really have to notice. My arm is better, dad is ok, Charlie is fine and my brother is recovering. Can't get much better then that.

The updates:

My arm is OK. It turns out I had ligament damage and some muscle strain, but with a little physio I'll be OK in time. It aches constantly, especially at night, and I wonder if that will ever go away. I'm sure it will, again, in time.

Dad is fine, a little sore, but fine. They 'got' all the cancer, so he's back to his old self.

My brother is recovering. He's in a lot of pain (3 brain surgeries in 4 weeks will do that to do) but other then that, he's recovering nicely. He's home (thanks goodness - he was starting to lose it in the hospital) and healing until the doting and watchful eye of my mother.

Charlie! Charlie is great. We tried a few 'tube-free' days last week to see if he would suddenly, start magically eating more and drinking, but to no avail. He couldn't keep much down (I think he eats too fast) and we were worried about him getting dehydrated, so back in the tube went.

We went from this:

To this:

Really, the experiment just let Matt and I know know two things: yes, Charlie really does need the g-tube and no, it is not forever. He clearly likes to eat, and just needs to learn how - how to know he is hungry or full, how to eat at a reasonable pace, etc. He's doing really well with textures these days (eating bit of cheese puffs, croissant, bread) but its just not enough. In time, though, he'll come around.

What an adventure this month was! May 29th, we'll start a new one.

The Adventure - Angels & Airwaves

I wanna have the same last dream again,


the one where I wake up and I'm alive.
Just as the four walls close me within,
my eyes are opened up with pure sunlight.
I'm the first to know,
my dearest friends,
even if your hope has burned with time,
anything that's dead shall be re-grown,
and your vicious pain, your warning sign,
you will be fine.
Hey, oh, here I am,
and here we go, life's waiting to begin.
Any type of love - it will be shown,
like every single tree reach for the sky.
If you're gonna fall,
I'll let you know,
that I will pick you up
like you for I,
I felt this thing,
I can't replace.
Where everyone was working for this goal.
Where all the children left without a trace,
only to come back, as pure as gold,
To recite this all.
Hey, oh, here I am,
and here we go, life's waiting to begin.
Tonight,
hey, oh, here I am,
and here we go, life's waiting to begin.
Tonight,
hey, oh, here I am,
and here we go, life's waiting to begin.
I cannot live, I can't breathe
unless you do this with me
I cannot live, I can't breathe
unless you do this with me
I cannot live, I can't breathe
unless you do this with me
I cannot live, I can't breathe
unless you do this with me
I cannot live, I can't breathe
unless you do this with me
I cannot live, I can't breathe
unless you do this with me
Hey, oh, here I am (do this with me),
and here we go, life's waiting to begin (do this with me).
Hey, oh, here I am (do this with me).

Put on a happy face

I know I haven't posted in a while - all of you readers should take this as a good sign. A VERY good sign. Not only am I feeling better, but I think Charlie is starting to as well. He is eating more and more on a regular basis*, is happy and as active as ever, is on the verge (we're thisclose) to crawling or scooching, and all is currently well in the Thomas household.

*Eating better is relative. Charlie is now finishing half of the average bottle, versus a quarter - or less - before.

This week's title is not meant to be dismissive. I don't mean 'put on a happy face' as in 'paste one on there for the world to see, and meanwhile cry quietly into your pillow at home'. I really mean I can smile right now. We are still so early in this process, but the more I see Charlie and the more I read about other kids with DCM and the more hopeful advances I see in heart treatments, the better I feel. I can't help but notice, too, that since I've been less stressed, Charlie has been feeling better. 'Duh.' says my very helpful husband. I'll only let him get away with that because it's his 31st birthday today.

Celebrations are important in our house. Charlie was at the table tonight, as every night, for the carrot cake and pizza Matt wanted, and we said 'Happy birthday Daddy!' all day today together. Well, I said it and Charlie laughed uproariously. He laughs a lot most days. It's a beautiful sound to hear.

This week we are off for an adventure at the One-of-a-Kind show in Toronto. We'll see how that goes - long drives both ways and two feeds out of the house. I'm nervous. I'll post about it after.

On that note, it's movie time around here (Matt fancies himself a movie buff). Happy birthday, Daddy!

Put on a happy face

Gray skies are gonna clear up,
Put on a happy face;
Brush off the clouds and cheer up,
Put on a happy face.
Take off the gloomy mask of tragedy,
It's not your style;
You'll look so good that you'll be glad
Ya' decide to smile!
Pick out a pleasant outlook,
Stick out that noble chin;
Wipe off that "full of doubt" look,
Slap on a happy grin!
And spread sunshine all over the place,
Just put on a happy face!
Put on a happy face
Put on a happy face
And if you're feeling cross and bitterish
Don't sit and whine
Think of banana split and licorice
And you'll feel fine
I knew a girl so glooming
She'd never laugh or sing
She wouldn't listen to me
Now she's a mean old thing
So spread sunshine all over the place
Just put on a happy face