Tom Petty Was Right

The waiting is the hardest part.

Our son is back in surgery. He’s surrounded by caring and compassionate doctors and nurses. He was in good spirits and anxious to get this all behind him. They were calling him a wonder kid of sorts for surviving a tractor trailer falling on him. They were amazed there wasn’t more damage. The doctor talked a couple of small incisions and a couple of screws. I’ll never look at repairing my aging fence the same again.

But now, we wait. We left to grab breakfast and distract ourselves a little bit, but with our phones blowing up with get well posts and texts, it was near impossible to not think about what was going on back at the hospital.

As we sit in the waiting room now, we keep checking the board that shows where they are in the procedure, anxious to see it switch from ‘procedure started’ to anesthesia end’, meaning his off to recovery. It can’t come soon enough. I told him he’s already one step closer to being back to doing what he loves. I hope he took that with him when he was going under.

Prayers are being felt. Tears come up every once in a while when I think of how grateful I am that we’re here waiting to see him. It could have ended so differently, but we don’t want to focus on that. Instead, we focus on the support the has received and the outpouring of love from friends and family, and we’ll just show gratitude that we are where we are, and we’ll have our son again soon.