It’s Silly. I know it is.

In 9 hours we report to the Short Stay Unit at Children’s Hospital for Will’s surgery.

Tubes.  We’ve waited for about a month and now the day is almost here.

It’s no big deal.  I know, it’s routine.  It’s no big deal.  We know countless kids who’ve done it; some more than once.  It takes no time.  He’ll be fine within hours.  It’s no big deal.  I KNOW ALL OF THIS.

I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but I’m nervous.  Maybe because I can’t control what will or won’t happen?  Maybe I’m nervous because  I’m trusting that this cut-happy doc will respect my wishes and leave Will’s healthy adenoids alone.  I’m trusting that he won’t screw up.  That his ego will remain in check and he’ll do his job respectfully and thoroughly.  I’m letting my kid go into a medical facility where germs exist in all sorts of places, some of them so well evolved that our medicines can do little to fight them.  It’s a scary place, but that is where I am bringing him.  Me, because it was my choice.  I’m The Mother.   I just have to trust that when they are done he will have holes in his ear drums not made by exploding tissue but by little plastic regulators that will finally get that fluid out of his head and help him hear.  It’s a good choice; so I’m surprised to find that tonight, I can’t sleep and my stomach is in knots.  If everything turns out okay then I made the right decision.  If everything is not, well, then it’s my fault.

Pity the Fool from Cold Spaghetti on Vimeo.

Is it silly to be nervous about something so routine and regular?  What would I do if this were something truly serious?  Or risky?  Or vital?

I’m embarrassed.

Maybe I’d be better with it if I liked this doctor more.  If he weren’t so showy to his residents.  Perhaps if he hadn’t pushed for removal of adenoids (which he did, despite having no clinical reasoning for it nor support for why it was even a consideration in Will’s case) I would trust him better.  I don’t think that you need to like a surgeon, you just need to believe that they can work magic.  I’m surprised to be questioning him now.  Is it nerves?  Or is this guy unworthy of the privilege of working on my kid?

I’m embarrassed.  And nervous.

But I know it will be fine.  I know it.

Will: January 6, 2004 from Cold Spaghetti on Vimeo.