Marshy’s first surgery is tomorrow in the early afternoon, and I don’t mind telling you that I am so nervous I feel like throwing up every time I think about it. Assuming they don’t run out of beds in the ICU or have some more urgent operations that bump him in the queue, he’s all set to have stents put in tomorrow, as well as tubes to drain the ears.
I almost threw up on my keyboard typing that last sentence.
I’ve had surgery before when I broke my leg, but I was an adult, and the severity of the injury was nothing compared to what Marshy is going to go through during his childhood. Tomorrow’s surgery is, I think, relatively minor compared to future operations (cranial, on his hands, etc.), but I don’t know how I’m going to react to seeing him in the recovery room. More than fear, I get angry when I think about this. I’m so angry.
Hopefully, after he recovers, his breathing will be much less laboured and his sleep apnea symptoms will be greatly reduced. Sleep has been pretty rough for him lately – although somehow he manages to sleep for six hour stretches for his super Nonna Julie. I think it’s because she’s so calm around him. She is never tense or anxious, and instead focuses 100% on loving the little turkey.
Please send the Marshmallow some good thoughts tomorrow.