Tomorrow morning I’ll wake Patrick up and take him to get tubes in his ears. I know that this ia a 5 minute procedure and I won’t even have time to get coffee but that doesn’t make me any less nervous. I mean, they’re tubes and it’s not like someone’s going to take his skull cap out of his head or anything. But the vision I have of Patrick at 5 months being wheeled away for surgery, a tiny boy on a big bed is stuck in my mind. And the vision of him when he came back, swaddled in bandages, propped up on the gurney, and a pacifier stuck in his mouth will probably be the vision I have on his wedding day.
People have told me repeatedly that this is minor, their child had it, it’s routine and no big deal. And in theory I know that, it’s not a big deal. But he’s still my baby and I’m going to worry no matter what.