Surgery? What Surgery?

My heart skipped yesterday when the phone rang and the caller ID showed someone from Max's surgeon's office was calling.  I've been living in denial for a while now, and its not such a bad place to be.  The conversation went something like this:

Nurse: "Yes, is this Max's mom?"
Me: "Yes?" (Should be interpreted as "Why in the world are you calling me?  This can't possibly be good...")
Nurse: "I'm calling because our former scheduler is no longer with us and I'm a little confused about Maxwell.  (This somehow, does not inspire a great deal of confidence in my surgeon or his office.  I'm a little funny that way...) Are we supposed to be scheduling a surgery date for him?"

At this point, I had an overwhelming urge to say something along the lines of "What surgery?  Who is this?  I have no idea what you're talking about!" and then take the baby boy and catch the next flight to somewhere warm, tropical and baby proof.

Instead I told her (very nicely and without a trace of sarcasm or irony) that we did, in fact, already have a surgery date scheduled on March 4th.

After 24 hours, six phone calls, and a small temper tantrum on my part when the wanted to push the surgery back to May, we now have a new surgery date on March 25th.  Apparently, its very difficult to get a neurosurgeon and a craniofacial surgeon in the same OR.  Who knew.  Maybe we're not paying them enough? 

Or maybe Max and I need to head for that tropical island.

Yeah, I'm in denial.  I kind of like it here.  I think I'll stay awhile.  Pass one of those fruity drinks, would ya?