I'm a wreck. The past few weeks have been filled with fatigue, nausea, tears, insomnia, and ravenous hunger. And before you go there, I'm NOT pregnant. I made an appt just in case it really is something physical, but more and more I'm starting to think it's the stress of what lies ahead that is eating away at me. I know we have to do this. Sometimes I'm just struck by the unfairness of it all...why does it have to be my kid that has to go to the O.R. 6 times in just over 4 years? How many times can I sign a release stating that I understand that death is a possible complication of the surgery he's about to have?
I did well focusing on the insurance and the scheduling and the flights. Now I'm in full-on panic mode. Some days I find enough to distract me, and others, like today, are pure hell. I've never been one to wish away a summer, but the next two months can not pass quickly enough. I hate feeling sad and out-of-control. I hope I snap out of it soon for everyone's sake.
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