Countdown to *A* surgery
A couple of weeks back we took Teddy to the ER and found out that he had a hernia in his groin. For those who don't know, a hernia is basically a hole in some stretch of muscle that's meant to hold in your intestines. Everyone is born with a couple of holes around their groin for a few choice bits to slide down. Normally, they heal after birth, but it's not super uncommon for them not to. It's not generally life threatening, but complications can develop and those can be dangerous. In Ted's case, no complications, and the hole is big enough that those are unlikely (it's more likely, apparently, when the hole is smaller, for something to get stuck and have blood flow get cut off). When we took him to the ER, they said that they would operate, but they looked at his chart and decided to wait until after his echo which was this last Wednesday. If the echo looked bad, then they'd reconsider. But the echo is good, and so we're scheduled for surgery on Monday. At 5:45 a.m. OK, it's at 7:30, but the arrival time is 5:45. In the morning.
This surgery is generally considered very safe, especially when laparoscopic. So this shouldn't be anything. We've been through worse. Just click in the labels for the other posts labeled "The Big Day" and you can read all about it. But that's a logical response to a logical evaluation of the situation. But there's also a very real emotional response. In the very good book, Going Postal, Terry Pratchett once described fear as "hope, turned inside out. You know it can't go wrong, you're sure it can't go wrong...But it might." And so that's where we are. If you run into either Amy or me in the next couple of days and we're a little high strung, that's because that's where we are. We know it can't go wrong. We're sure it can't go wrong... But every now and then, this vicious little voice in our head whispers, "But it might."
As is usually the case, I'll update here and in the other usual avenues come Monday. I'm hoping that this next (little) big day is over a lot faster, and we're home that night. See you all on the other side.
This surgery is generally considered very safe, especially when laparoscopic. So this shouldn't be anything. We've been through worse. Just click in the labels for the other posts labeled "The Big Day" and you can read all about it. But that's a logical response to a logical evaluation of the situation. But there's also a very real emotional response. In the very good book, Going Postal, Terry Pratchett once described fear as "hope, turned inside out. You know it can't go wrong, you're sure it can't go wrong...But it might." And so that's where we are. If you run into either Amy or me in the next couple of days and we're a little high strung, that's because that's where we are. We know it can't go wrong. We're sure it can't go wrong... But every now and then, this vicious little voice in our head whispers, "But it might."
As is usually the case, I'll update here and in the other usual avenues come Monday. I'm hoping that this next (little) big day is over a lot faster, and we're home that night. See you all on the other side.
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