Shit my pants much (sung to the tune of Smack my Bitch up)

by whatiwastryingtosaywas

Heart stopping moments abound. Of course, it’s be just too beige to have an easy slide into the admissions office on Tuesday, no?

Sitting on the couch, cuddling my favourite person yesterday when I noticed that the beds of his fingernails were blue. I think the blood that had been swimming around my feet for almost six weeks suddenly rushed back into my head. Dialled our emergency paed and were told that if everything else was okay, we were to relax and bring him in for a check up this morning at 8.

Not sure if I’ve mentioned it but the ahem’ing man from the hospital is Hudson’s temporary paed – I like him well enough but I just can’t make peace with the way he says important things in a mumbled and hurried fashion, the way he talks over me as I try to ask questions from a very scared place and the way he uses big terminology as though I just finished my doctorate in paediatric cardiology. It’s a tough decision cos he’s the man who saved Hudson’s life effectively but can I stick it out with him based solely on this?

Anyway, in much the same tone as he’d told me not to panic way back when, he told us today that the blue beds are a sign that we’re heading into failure territory – albeit slowly. What does that mean? Failure? Slowly? What. The. Front. Door. What if he kicks into quickly? Why are my eyes rolling into the the back of my head.

🙂

We’re still home, he’s still home. Surgery’s still set for Wednesday. We were properly panicked but are now forcing ourselves to breathe. We had our six week check up booked for tomorrow and are keeping that appointment so as to check on him again but hells teeth.

I suppose he is our son and therefore will not go anywhere quietly or to schedule. Gotta love the good old stubborn-arse I’ll-Do-As-I-Flippen-Please Slater-Smith blood.

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