The surgery is scheduled for 7 a.m. tomorrow, well, I guess that's today now. We're supposed to be there at 6:30 a.m.; it will take about an hour for Malkolm to get anesthetized and then surgery will take about three to four hours. So my guess is surgery will be at least 7:30 or later, but I'm not too worried about that.
The constant parade of physicians coming in today -- with each one having their own specialty and their job concerning Malkolm's surgery -- was oddly comforting, even when they talked about the risks.
We had another blessing tonight at dinner -- that kind of encompasses the overwhelmingly positive response we have had through this whole experience.
We went to Carrabbas italian restaurant for dinner. Malkolm chose it -- he had told us that he wanted to go there because he likes how you can dip the bread in the olive oil and eat it when you are waiting for your food. I found out on the way, though, that the reason he picked this restaurant instead of Olive Garden was because he knew I liked it. And that is SO Malkolm.
Just before we got our food, I made up an excuse to go talk to our waitress to see if they sing happy birthday or anything like some restaurants will do for people's birthdays and such. Even though his birthday is in September, surgery day is the first day of his new life, I thought it would be a neat surprise for them to sing happy birthday to him.
The waitress was standing at the hostess stand with the hostess and another waiter. She said they didn't sing, but they did have a cake and such -- I told her that was totally great and I told her about Malkolm's surgery. As it turned out, after we finished our wonderful meal about 10 waiters and waitresses not only brought the birthday dessert to him, but they also sang happy birthday to him, something they don't do, but they did it for him. They also gifted his meal, so his meal was free for us.
The immense response we receive is just like this -- from everyone. People we know, people we have never met, people who have been friends with us for years. The response is engaging and captivating and utterly humbling. People embracing him and loving him and us, (selfishly) it makes this jagged pill a little easier to swallow.
And the notes we receive, of people finding their faith again, finding inspiration in this young child's faith is probably the most life changing thing of all of this. To know that a worthy message is being passed along, a message of pure, child-like faith is truly uplifting.
I am okay with this peace that defies all understanding. I will do my best to post tomorrow to give an update. Thanks for reading and especially thanks again for caring about my little man.
So as we approach the morning, I know in about seven hours my baby will be on a table with white sheets and a whole bunch of really wonderful medical staff around him, taking a big breath when they put on the mask, then falling asleep to undergo his surgery ... and I will be in the waiting room with my family and friends, holding on to the faith he gave me to hold until he wakes up and I can give it back to him.