Disclaimer: One day, years from now, my son will not appreciate the subject of this post. Sam-I'm sorry to discuss you man parts on the World Wide Web, but I can not tell the stories of your 'adventures' without including this one. Please forgive me. Love, Mom.
Sam was born with a short foreskin. While this means nothing in our day-to-day life, it did mean that he couldn't have a traditional circumcision in the hospital and would have to have it done by a surgeon at around 6-months. I have been worrying about this procedure since the moment I found out he would have to have it--which was, literally, about 2 minutes after he was born. I asked Rob a hundred times if we could not do it or wait until he was like 15 to have it done. He said "No." Being as I don't have man parts, I guess I should follow his lead on this one.
We had our appointment on Tuesday with a General Surgeon; I had been looking forward to this appointment for a while so that I could get some questions answered and decide how freaked out I needed to be. Lets just say the appointment was less than stellar. The surgeon was an ass. He had zero bed-side manner. Zero.
It began by him asking why we were there, so I told him. He then examined Sam and followed with his 5 second explanation of the surgery, it went something like this: "There is a 1 in 100 chance he could end up with an infection or scaring. If you want to do it we can schedule now or you can come back to schedule later. Any questions?" Seriously? Yes, I have questions. When I asked him about what type of anesthesia would be used, he said: "General. You'll see the anesthesiologist the morning of surgery." When I asked what the complications were he said: "I already explained them to you" (Oh, that's what that was!) "As far as complications from anesthesia-you'll meet with the anesthesiologist the day of surgery." I guess that ended our question and answer portion of the program. As he left he room, to send in his scheduler, Rob said, "I don't like him." I didn't either.
I realize that in the grand scheme of things, this surgery is not a big deal. I felt blessed sitting in the waiting room--blessed that there were no tubes attached to my son, that he wasn't in a wheelchair, that he was happy and smiling. I count my blessings everyday that I have happy, healthy children. Especially in the last few weeks--a friend of a friend lost their son to leukemia a couple of weeks ago and another friend had a son born with muscular atrophy (he's spent most of his life in Children's Mercy). I know that a simple procedure to circumcise my son, is not a big deal to this doctor, but its still my BABY. I wanted him to give a damn, and I'm not sure he did.
None the less, his surgery is scheduled for December 9th. Part of me really wants to find another doctor. The other part knows he will do a fine job, and really it is the anesthesiologist I should be worried about...I'll meet him the day of surgery. So for the next 3 months I will continue to worry and hold my son a little tighter.
