We Have A Date

 Yesterday's pre-op went really well, so we now have a confirmed date. 

Rory is having his right foot amputated on Thursday 29th April; two weeks' today. 

(It also happens to be my Mum's birthday... sorry Mum!)

I'm delighted that we finally have a date, and that it's so soon. This means that not only do I have ample time left of my maternity leave, but we should also have his prosthetic before I go back to work too, which was always best case scenario for me. 

Nonetheless, when the official countdown clock was started a few days ago I was overcome by a sense of... dread? Reality? Doubt? 

I know it's the right thing; it's the next step in his journey and it will allow him to regain his freedom. But it has been difficult to focus on what he will gain when at the moment all I'm seeing is what he's going to lose. His perfect, incredible, beautiful little foot, that I've adored for over 9 months. It would have been easier if his foot wasn't working, but there's nothing wrong with it! It's purely for the greater good of his leg and abilities. 

No doubt some of my worry is surrounding the day of the operation itself. Last year Rory went into theatre eleven times, and each time was just as scary as the first. We are unfortunately all too familiar with the experience of leaving him on the operating table and having to wait patiently for hours on end with our pager, trying to distract ourselves from thoughts all of the worst things that could go wrong. This operation is going to be significantly more intense than anything else he's endured so far, and that coupled with the visualisation of the procedure itself is weighing heavily on my mind. 

But then we attended the pre-op yesterday, and actually since then I've felt a lot better about it all. Signing the consent forms, talking through the procedure and the step by step pain management solutions helped fulfil my need for lots of detail. It was also reassuring to see how relaxed his surgeons were; this procedure is not unfamiliar to them. 

As such, my initial panic has died down and today is a good day; I'm feeling confident, positive, and in a warped kind of way, looking forward to having it done and dusted. It helps that the sun is shining and Rory is none the wiser.

I fully expect these contrasting emotions to ebb and flow over the next fortnight, but we have wonderful family and friends around us and with easing of lockdown restrictions, we're able to get out and about and distract ourselves by making memories.

So, I'm very pleased that the agony of the countdown won't torture us for too long, but I just have fourteen days left to say goodbye to his little foot. How do you say goodbye to a limb anyway?! 

We have arranged to have a mould of his foot taken by a local business in Cleethorpes, where we live. They're making a framed cast for us. A memento that I'm still not a hundred per cent sure I want to display in the house but fear the regret if I don't do something. 

This feels like my most unstructured, rambling post yet, so apologies for the clumsy writing! I know I won't feel this wobbly for much longer, but it felt right to jot all of these thoughts down. 

See you on the other side...