How does a mother not worry when her son is a heroin addict? Yet, counterintuitively, it was letting go of my worry that allowed me to survive.
We were waiting anxiously for a surgery to correct a stricture in our newborn son Ethan's aorta, just four days following another procedure, to repair defects in his throat. After Ethan was prepped for surgery, the cardiovascular surgeon called us aside.
"Our first surgery," he said, "took much longer than we anticipated. We are all a little tired. If you feel strongly that we should go ahead with the operation, we will do it as scheduled. But we would rather wait until Monday."
Ten years ago, I had my first jaw surgery; this past December I had my fifth. The latest surgery also came with radiation to--hopefully--prevent heterotopic bone from regrowing over the prosthetic device in my jaw and from causing me 24/7 pain. And worry.