Here We Go...
Tate's surgery is scheduled for 8:15am Eastern tomorrow, November 2nd, 2004. Election Day. The day before his 3rd birthday.
I'm nervous.
Nothing to eat after midnight, nothing to drink after 3am. Be at the hospital at 6:15am. But they neglected to tell me what I'm supposed to tell my almost-3-year-old. Basically, I've just mentioned casually that he'll be seeing a doctor. If I told him anything beyond that, he'd completely flip out. So we'll just take it as it comes. On the way, I'm going to tell him that we're going to see a special doctor, and that while he takes a nap, the doctor is going to fix his nose and throat so that he can breathe better, and that when he wakes up he'll be sore for a little while but that he'll get to eat lots of ice cream and popsicles.
...I'm nervous.
So anyhow. Things seem chaotic as usual. I took Tate out around the block last night to steal candy from neighbors. He was Bob the Builder. He looked soooooooo cute. And I have sooooooo much candy. He's pretty much already forgotten all about it. Hehehe... Don't look at me like that, it's only fair. I made the kid. And I'm the one who has to deal with all-day tantrums and fussiness and wet beds and sleepless nights and all the other "joys of parenting" that they only gloss over. It's only fair I should be able to reap a little chocolate out of the deal.
...I'm nervous.
Please pray for Tate...
-Jack-
