Preparing for the Worst
My youngest went for a long-awaited MRI on Friday. Because he's non-verbal and can't stay still, things like this require the poor guy to have a general anaesthetic, which turns a 45-minute scan into a day-long ordeal, complete with fasting. Tell any 13 year-old boy he can't have breakfast, or lunch, or even water, and see how well that goes over. My zen-like commitment to meditation and mindfulness somehow went right out the window during the build-up to this event. By the time we were leaving the house at 6:30 AM, I'd already prepared myself for the following dramatic scenes: an early-morning wrestling match at the fridge a tantrum all the way to the hospital arriving late because of rush-hour traffic more wrestling matches in the waiting room, during sedation, at gas-mask time, and after waking him up in recovery For the record , not one of these things actually happened . As is often the case when you're married to the military, I was o