In March of 2010, you were inserted into Sawyer's left ear as a temporary hire. Placed there to do a job that the eardrum itself could not do. The agreement was that you would do the job, allowing air or liquids to flow through the drum so the pressure did not cause yet another ear infection. There have been tubes before you, but they were smaller, younger tubes, not the hard core tube that you have proven yourself to be. You have gone above and beyond your call of duty! For that I applaud you and Sawyer is grateful (although he will never tell you that).
I realize that you did not move yourself into your current home. You were chosen, by no fault of your own. I am more than certain that your life inside Sawyer's ear has been interesting to say the least. Good money would most likely be paid to get that up close and personal with Sawyer's amazing brain. Loud annoying noises are stopped as soon as possible by me, Sawyer leaving the situation or by his new VERY EXPENSIVE noise cancelling headphones. Do I even need to mention the new iPod filled with the music of the Sponge Bob show, Rush, and Weird Al Yankovic? Who wouldn't be thrilled to listen to that every day on the bus to and from school? In addition, I'm sure Sawyer's own yelling is muffled by the wax that surrounds you. You stay warm and relatively dry most of the time. I get it. You're cozy. Much like a baby in the womb, I could see where the outside world would pose a scary situation that you are not looking forward to.
However, the time has come for you to move on. The Doctor told me today that ear tubes are meant to stay in the ear for a maximum of three years. This means that you are coming up on the end of your lease and you will need to vacate the residence at the pre-determined time. Perhaps you have already made arrangements for moving on, but this letter serves as a legal and binding statement, that should you refuse to leave the premises on your own accord, you will be forcibly removed.
Honestly, I have very little problem with sending in a
professional to rip you from your homestead.
I feel no guilt. Nor am I concerned
with the expense of having to pay someone to do that. (Lucky for us both, the Army will take care of it) Also, I am not one of those
parents who are overly concerned with the surgical aspect of the
procedure. They are welcome to put my
kid out, I trust them. In fact, he’s
cuter when he’s asleep (mostly because he isn’t talking, crying, or
screaming). Should the opportunity
present itself, I may indeed try to sneak out with a tank of that stuff…the
whole family could be enjoying a good night’s sleep! But I digress.
Make no mistake; I do NOT want Sawyer to go through another
surgery. When the Doc mentioned it
today, what sent me to the window to see if it was high enough to make it worth
jumping were not the dollar signs, nor the picture of Sawyer in a hospital
gown with traces of dried blood on his earlobe. What caused the high blood
pressure, the craving of a bottle of rum, and need for a cigarette was the vision of the alarm clock going off at 4 AM so we could arrive at the hospital at 5AM. Do you hear me? They always want us there at 5AM!!! Those who are new to surgery may think, "Wonderful, they'll take me back around 5:30 and I'll be done by 7!" This is a bold faced LIE!
At 7AM anyone who is not having the procedure will be through the first torn up, coverless outdated People magazine, out of their first caffeinated drink of the day and not happy that the waiting room is blaring Matlock on the TV that bears a sign reading: UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH- DO NOT TOUCH TV OR CHANGE CHANNEL!
Meanwhile, the patient, fully awake, has thought through every possible bad scenario. They have decided that perhaps they should just hope to die on the table compared with all the complications they may face due to a botched surgery. In the case of a child, especially one like Sawyer, they will be angry that they have been woken up, angry that they can't eat, angry that they have nothing to watch on TV, angry that there is no wi-fi and furious that their kindle battery is dying!By the time the surgery rolls around, the patient, who is a nervous wreck and hasn't consumed even water in the last 14 hours is beginning to vomit bile. The accompanying parent, friend, relative is starting to think perhaps they are now in need of medical care as well. Do you get where I'm going with this?
So here's the deal. Get the hell out of Dodge before we both are forced into a situation we don't want to face. If you roll out on your own, you could stay comfortably hidden in the folds of his bed for a good 6 months or so. Only a bloody nose or an accident can get me up on that bunk bed to change those sheets. If you are ripped from his auditory orifice, you will end up in the trash with other medical waste. Do we need to even explore that option?
In addition to the notification that Sawyer may need surgery to have you forcibly removed, I also got the amazing and wonderful news that it looks like Josie may have a tonsillectomy in her future! Now there is a fun surgery for a kid of a currently single mom with five kids who already feels like she is on the receiving end of all bad karma! I can't even fathom telling her about it, much less going through with it while Dad is gone.
Bottom Line- I have no time or energy to spend on a 1 mm rubber donut. Get the hell out...and take some extra wax with you!
Sincerely,
Sawyer's Tired Mother
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