WHEW!

Wow, that sucked.

When someone asks me, "Hey, Wyatt, what was the worst day of your life?," I now have an answer. We arrived at the hospital with Kyle at 7am - his surgery was scheduled for 8 - and were situated in a pre-op room. Kyle was in great spirits, primarily because he didn't know what to expect. We did our best to reassure him, but were also honest about the procedure. He loved getting changed into a hospital gown and socks, and even more excited with the wall-mounted TV. As if his luck couldn't get any better, Spider-Man cartoons were on at the time.

The doctor came in first, and made a mark on his upper left thigh for "legal reasons." That's what I want to hear - my son's doctor needs a reminder of which testicle to fix! I had told my friends that if they see me being led out in cuffs from the hospital, something went wrong. The anesthetist came in next, and Kyle answered his questions like a good boy. He then asked the doctor if his "Knotty Bunnies" could come into the O.R. with him. He said yes.

Sidebar - "Knotty Bunny" is basically a knotted cloth with a rabbit head. He has had two of them since birth, and the ears are more or less chewed off. Not that he cares; he loves them more than candy. There was no way he was going into surgery without them.

Kyle was prepped and wheeled into the O.R. area. Before he entered, the doctors stopped the gurney and said, "Kiss mom and dad goodbye." I did my best to be brave and kissed him, telling I loved him very much. Then they wheeled my son away.

For the next fifteen minutes straight I cried in the waiting room.

When the missus calmed me down, I opened up my current read; Knights Cross: A Life of Field Marshal Erwin Rommel. (Great book, by the way.) About an hour later, our beeper went off, signaling that Kyle's surgery was finished. We rushed to the post-op area just in time to see Kyle wheeled in, half asleep, and totally doped up. The doctors said everything went very well, and he was a model patient. They may say that to everyone, but I know with Kyle it was true. He is a brave kid that is (usually) very polite.

Kyle slept off the drugs for about an hour, and was ready to go shortly thereafter. He refused a wheelchair, and walked out of the hospital with me holding his hand. (Like I said, brave.) We came home exhausted, but the boy had all the energy in the world. He never napped, and wanted to take our daily walk after dinner. Being the ever-worrying parent, I said absolutely not, but we did go to the neighbors for a few hours so he could play with his friend.

I think I only said, "KYLE, BE CAREFUL!" about fifty times. Long story short (too late): everything turned out okay.

Thank you so much for the prayers and well wishes.