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?