You know, I have made a valiant effort to deal. I've blogged about how I met my husband, we've had what feels like 842 violin events, (which translates into 842 trips to Salt Lake and back...) we planned and carried out two photo shoots, drove to weekly doctor appointments, and generally tried to ignore the fact that we were facing another surgery and hospital stay.
Here's the part where I sound like a whiney three year old. I'm apologizing in advance.
This whole thing sucks. Big time sucks. It's so not fair that my cute little boy has to endure so much at the tender age of sixteen months. It's bad enough that we had to do this once. But it's way worse that we have to do it again, less than a year after the first operation. The first surgery experience was terrible. Being in the PICU for five days was a nightmare in and of itself. There's no feeling so helpless as having all the expert doctors at one of the top children's hospitals in the country tell you that they have no idea why your son is getting better. Or having multiple surgeons tell you that Max had complications they had never seen before, and that because it happened once, it could very well happen again.
It just seems so unfair. He's still such a baby!