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I come to you on this dreary pre-Autumn day to tell you that our little Tyler needs to go “under the knife”. Everything’s been kind of a blur on this situation, so I really couldn’t pinpoint when things had started changing.
I would like to explain some of my fears, but there are simply too many to list. Anesthesia comes to mind first. He’s such a small little baby (even though he’s a big baby). The anesthesiologist (who I would prefer to call “the sleep doctor”, because you can say that without thinking too hard about how to pronounce anesthesiologist) could make one tiny miscalculation and… it’s just too scary to think about. Or what about the actual surgeon? He’s going to have one of the sharpest instruments that I know of, and he’ll be taking it to my son. What if his coffee was too strong that morning, and he’s all jittery and shaky? These are legitimate fears.
I would like to take the “wait and see” approach on this. I really would. Maybe it’ll clear up on its own. The dilemma that I’m faced with is that it may not clear up on its own. Wouldn’t it be better to just take care of this now, while he’s a baby and unlikely to remember the trauma of surgery, and the pain, afterward, of healing? I know I’m jumping all over the place, and I apologize. I’m quite scatterbrained over it all.
So here’s the story. Tyler is now 10 weeks old. These 10 weeks have been some of the most rewarding weeks of my life. Recently, a friend was looking through some of the photos I’ve put online of Tyler, and said something that set my head spinning. Of course, the minute I got home I started shuffling through the photos of Tyler. One after another… seeing the gradual changes. There is now no question in my mind. He needs the surgery.
While Sarah was pregnant, she said. and I quote, “I hope he doesn’t get my looks, because I wouldn’t make a handsome boy”. We were quite pleased when Tyler was pulled from Sarah’s belly and he looked just like me. He did have Sarah’s ears and cheeks, though, and they looked adorable on him.
10 weeks later and he’s starting to really look like Sarah. WTF? So now we come to the point of all my rambling. I’m going to have to foot the bill for facial reconstructive surgery. It ain’t cheap either! They don’t throw you discounts even though the patient is between 1/10th and 1/15th the weight of 99% of the rest of the patients they work on. The sleep doctor would need to do nothing more than just rub a little bit of Crown Royale on his gums to make him pass out. Would that stop him from charging me $1,409 and some change? Nope. No breaks for me. Oh! And guess what else… my insurance doesn’t cover it. They say it’s an “elective” surgery and, therefore, not covered under their policy. What the crap kind of cheap healthcare is my employer using?
Don’t get me wrong. I think Sarah’s a BEAUTIFUL woman. Picturing her as a guy though… that just sends a strange feeling through me. I’m pretty sure that Sarah’s biggest fear is of Tyler inheriting her height – or lack thereof. But she brings up a valid point. It does seem somewhat unnatural to see her features on my son. But like I said, he’s friggin’ adorable.
Anyway, I kinda got used to the thought of Tyler looking just like I did when I was a baby, and I don’t plan on allowing his genetic code to tell me otherwise. I spit in the face of DNA sequences! If I have to rely on science, technology, and medicine to fulfill my wishes, then so be it.