Wow, have hospitals changed in 10 years.

Back in ancient times, we didn’t have surround sound beds with cable channels. Pager systems to notify loved ones that you were out of surgery. Wrist bands with bar codes, so you can be scanned prior to every procedure or medication dose. White boards that showed you who your nurse was & what time you’d last taken your pain medication. And a kitchen ready and waiting to take your order from 6 am - 12 midnight.

My teenaged son had all of these marvels available to him Friday, when we went in to have his tonsils removed at Providence Portland.

I’d brought along a week’s worth of newspapers and my iPhone, prepared to hunker down and stay the day. And while I was still needed to do mom-like vigilance (”my baby needs ice chips, stat!”), the combination of Comedy Central, liquid Vicodin plus an attentive staff made me start to feel like I was extraneous.

Sure, I was marginally useful from time to time (I got good at calling down to nutrition services for chicken broth, for example.) But most of the time, I sat quietly in the chair in the corner and read. Or Twittered. Or checked work email. Or watched Brian Williams on The Daily Show three times over. And finally left at 9 pm so he could try and get some sleep.

But what’s this? My normally mother-averse teenage son (I have this ability to ‘de-coolify’ legions of things) voluntarily thanked me “for staying with me all day on Friday. Especially since you were pretty quiet and all.”

Turns out, even with the newfangled hospital improvements available now, a boy still needs his mother from time to time.

As long as she knows not to talk too much…