I am a dude.
I am a total dude.
Except I can't pee standing up.
But I am a total dude.
Logic and rationale rule my brain. Fact over feeling. Logic over like.
On days like today ... being a dude isn't helpful.
Hunter has sensory issues. Surrounding his teeth, his mouth entirely. He had a cavity filled once. They were supposed to be a special needs dentist. They weren't. They were terrible. They drilled to fill a cavity with no freezing. They held him down and did it. It was barbaric. And he didn't let any kind of instrument go in his mouth for two years after that.
It took months of fighting and every day screaming for him to stop freaking out so bad he'd injure one of us for me trying to brush his teeth. I hate it. Fighting with him. I know where his hate for the toothbrush comes from and I am with him. I hate that dentist lady. I want to drill a hole in her cheek. With no freezing. And also honour his fear of things in his mouth. But ... tooth decay.
Well, there has been some. Tooth decay. A lot of it.
And I knew this day would come eventually. I knew, even just in booking a happy visit with the children's hospital dentist, I knew he'd need to be knocked out so that they could fix his teeth.
And I am anxious.
But I'm a dude. So I am not fully in touch with that anxiety. I know it's there. But I want to bury it and walk on it. I want to talk about other things. I want to focus elsewhere. I want to avoid feeling my feelings.
I want to pretend this pit is not in the bottom of my stomach making me feel like I am going to throw up.
I want to pretend I am not worried. Worried that sedation might mess him up. Worried that there are underlying mitochondrial issues that we don't know about because I haven't spent thousands of dollars on the testing, and that it will matter now because ... sedation. Worried that there will be a regression. Or a complication.
I want to pretend that they know what they are doing and will be very careful with my small little boy. I want to pretend that the day nurse and the charge nurse knew that there is mycin in vaccines so when I list allergies and include all mycins, I want to pretend like she doesn't ask me if no vaccination is a religious thing ... I want to pretend my insides aren't screaming I JUST LISTED HIS ALLERGENS AND MYCINS ARE IN EVERY VACCINE IN CANADA! I want to pretend I didn't hear her say "oh I didn't know that" like she did. I want to pretend they know everything that matters. I want to pretend they will treat my precious cargo as though it really is ... precious ... to them too.
I want to pretend I didn't hear them say to give him tylenol before sedation, because I am not a doctor but I know it isn't safe or smart. I want to pretend they are as motivated to be knowledgeable about every aspect of this surgery as I am now. I want to pretend like they care, even a little bit.
I want to find an excuse to not be there. I want to go work with my hands. Of all the days that would be good to still be in the business of demolition. I'd like to go tear out some flooring today. I'd like to rip a house down to the studs then sweep every corner and leave a trade ready frame for someone to come build behind me.
I'd like to pretend I can avoid and just work. I'd like to put my head down and grind it out today.
I'd like to take it for him, any shit that is to come his way. I'd like to shield him from any consequence in this moment.
It's going to be a long day.
I am grateful for last night's escape. I might have planned it on purpose. Knowing I would want to pretend today away and not worry that he will pull through ok.
