“pethro-neato”

Here it is. The time has come to pack it up and begin our journey. In two days we’ll be on our way to Boston. We’ve been asking Watson if he wants to ride in an airplane. He repeats back “air-pane”. We ask do you want to go to Boston? He repeats “bos-ton”. Then we ask if he wants to see Dr. Pedro del Nido and he repeats some sort of gibberish “pethro-neato”. It’s a pretty funny routine. I don’t think there’s anyway to prepare him for whats about to happen, but just in case, I’m trying. I’ve been putting spongebob bandaids on his chest to get him used to the feeling of having something there. He calls it his “stic-ker” and really likes to show it off. I guess that’s a good thing. I think he’ll be proud of his scar. We were packing his clothes last night and he started to pile up all of his stuffed animals right on top of the bag. I just wonder what is going on in his little head. He must have some sort of idea what the bag means. I try to tell myself that we’re going to make the best of this and everything is going to be fine. Anxiety is turning to anticipation. I’m slowly feeling like “Let’s do this”.

 

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Count down

It’s official. The date is set and we are booked for an over 2 week trip to Boston. When I leaned that Watson’s surgery date was scheduled for early February I could feel yet another wave of emotion come over me. This has been a roller coaster and it’s only just begun. How do you prepare yourself for an experience coming up like this? I’ve been reading up on the specifics of the surgery and looking at pictures of children around Watson’s age in the CICU. I’m making a list of all the things we need to pack up and take with us. I’m not sure how we’re going to transport all this gear. 3 suitcases full of clothes, a car seat, a jogging stroller, toys, dvd player, computer, books ect. I am going to be a spaz at the airport I’m afraid. There’s so much on my mind and so many things to plan. My anxiety level is rising now that the surgery is approaching. I know that the period when Watson goes into surgery is going to be the hardest time of my life. I wonder if I will be a sobbing mess or not. How will I handle myself during those hours? I read somewhere that giving blood was a good way to kill some time. Maybe I could go do that. I doubt I’ll be able to read. Maybe I could download some games on my phone to play to occupy sometime or buy some stupid celebrity gossip magazines to flip through. Either way I’m really going to have to distract myself so I don’t work myself into a panic attack. Maybe I need to be sedated like a dog afraid of fireworks. Uhhh. I’ll force myself to do some yoga breathing. I may have to escape to do this so people don’t think I’m a total wacko. Tic tock.