Sometimes, I am a Dork

I added to the original layout of Dad & Caroline dancing. It needed flowers. I tried to post it. Blogger failed me.

So, now I need to revisit the revisited (redundant, no?) layout, and try posting it. It really did need flowers. Alas, no picture yet. (Yell at me later, Doug!)

October 18. . .

That's the big day for the hen-egg-sized adenoids, and the accompanying set of tonsils to be ejected from Edison's head. The doctor today surmised that his quality of life (Edison's, not the doctor's) would greatly improve with surgery. Well, now that you think about it, that Lexus SUV that I saw gleaming from his "reserved" parking lot (with his name) did seem a little rusty. Maybe Edison's surgery will improve Dr. Little's quality of life. Nah, he meant Edison. I swear, he did.

Nice guy, really. I should not be so snarky.

So, we are - once again - testing the boundaries of Blue Cross Blue Shield's family maximum payout as part of the PPO plan that Mark has through work. I don't think this will break the bank for BSBCT, but it will certainly make a difference for us having the surgery this year, rather than next.

Edison went from being very excited about the surgery. . . I think that he thinks it will "jump start" the puberty process. . .to being bummed about it. Someone (not me) gave him the idea that his voice will change, when he loses the tonsils & adenoids. To your above-average 12-year old, that means that all the other benefits and perks of the big "P" will come alongside. I hate to burst that bubble, so I'm acting dumb.

We're waiting until football season is over. I have been informed that he is starting (both offense & defense) this year. And, to be honest, he worked so hard this summer--sacrificing many things--to take part in football practices and camps. I don't want him to lose that just because he can't breathe at night. Sheesh.

The doctor agreed wholeheartedly that football (in this instance) can, and should come first. So, very shortly after the season ends, and four days (just four!!) after the Knoxville Buddy Walk, we will go out to the surgery center on the "west" side of town.

Side note: My title . . .referring to myself as a dork had to do with my inability to post my updated layout. However, I can back that title up with a story. Here goes. . .

As we were scheduling his surgery, the nurse gave me some information about the "West Surgery Center." Mind you, that for three (yes, THREE) years, Caroline received therapy services at Children's Hospital's Rehabilitation Center which is next door to the West Surgery Center. You have to drive past the surgery center to get to the rehab center.

Dork Mom to Nurse: "Okay, I see West Surgery Center. So, he's not having the surgery here -- downtown?"

Nurse to Dork Mom: That's right. Most of our day-surgeries are scheduled at our West Center. Do you know where that is?

DM to Nurse: "I am sorry. I don't. Is it pretty easy to find?"

Nurse to DM: "Well, you get on _____ highway, and you get off on the ______ exit."

(names deleted to irritate any potential internet predators)

DM to Extremely Patient Nurse: "Oh, you mean right next door to the Therapy Center?"

EPN to DM: "Yes, have you heard of the therapy center?"

Horrifiedly Embarrassed Mom: "Just show me where to sign. I'll be there."

Equally Horrified Son of Embarrassed Mom: "Smooth, Mom. Real smooth."




I.am.a.dork.

. . .but at least I'm a dork that knows where she's going. . .some of the time.