Breathe

I need to call the surgeon tomorrow.  I saw him in April, and I don't know that I can do this without speaking to him again. I have a lot of questions, many of them just logistical

I'm trying to understand why I am allowing the fear to be so consuming. Is it so that as a parent, if G-d forbid something bad happens, I feel as though I accounted for the possibility as opposed to just putting my kid in a situation without thinking it through? Could it be because wallowing in fear let's me feel that I am doing something, as opposed to just waiting?

These reasons sound silly, but I think sometimes we glom onto an emotion so that we feel something so that a situation that is personally so momentous not be relegated to the mundane. Which it is, for the doctors and nurses, and orderlies and secretaries and insurance companies and all the others we will be in contact with next week. They will wake up and go to work, and prep dinner, grab breakfast, fight with their spouse, make plans for the weekend, and just generally have a normal day. Our day will be markedly different. That's what so odd. All these people will surround us, and be a part of our experience, and they will never remember it.

And we will never forget it.

That is not to say that they are callous or cold or even that they are not good at what they do. But they do it everyday. They come to the hospital every day. They deal with pain and loss and triumph and failure daily. We, thankfully, do not.

So this is just a jumble of thoughts and ramblings when I should be in bed.