Another day. Another doctor. Another procedure.

All of this medical stuff becomes easier over the years. But it is never easy.

Pulling my son out of bed before the sun rises to drive him to another procedure.

Making the best of afternoons wasted in waiting rooms.

Spending hours on the phone making appointments, changing appointments, requesting paperwork, paying bills.

Missing parties, clubs, concerts, playground time, school, games, that list goes on and on….

Perhaps the hardest thing is staying strong when I am falling apart on the inside.

Holding my terrified son down while the anesthesiologist puts him under.

Choking back tears while trying to appear calm so he isn’t more scared.

Waiting for the doctors to report back because even simple, routine procedures are risky for my little guy.

Holding his vulnerable, still body while he comes to.

Making sure no wires are pulled or lines infiltrated so he doesn’t have to endure more needles.

Waiting to go home, when minutes feel like an eternity.

Sure we are all smiles; we make the best of these stressful days that are far more frequent than any child or grownup deserves.

But being strong all the time is exhausting. It is hard. And sometimes it just plain sucks.

When I finish having a pity party for myself, I look at my son and remember what a warrior he is; I then I suck it up and carry on.


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