W is for Waiting Room


About a little over a month ago, we found out Little Man needed to have his tonsils taken out. We have been very fortunate that neither one of the kids have ever been really sick before. The only doctor visits they have are their yearly check-ups.

A few years ago, I mentioned something to M (my husband) about Little Man’s snoring. It had got a lot louder and I can hear him at night two rooms away. Little Man also was making these weird sounds when he was just breathing while we sat on the couch. To me, it sounded like he was trying to breathe and was struggling. Little Miss on the other had a huge issue with her brother’s “noises”. I have seen her have a complete melt down because she couldn’t handle it. *insert eye roll* M said he would mention something to their mom before their yearly check-up that was coming up. Well, the doctor gave him a clean bill of health and that was that.


Over the next couple years I kept noticing it was getting worse. It was starting to effect his ability to run for a long period of time. He loved gym class, but dreaded doing the half mile run. This kid loves to run, so I knew something had to be wrong. Little Man then went to the dentist and the DENTIST mentioned something along the lines of, his tonsils are pretty large this might effect the way his face is forming. Well, another PCP appointment and ENT specialist appointment later, we scheduled a tonsillectomy and adenoidectomy (tonsils and adenoids).

I played soccer for about 19 years and broke about 14 bones. I’m no stranger to emergency rooms, doctors, specialist and operations. I’ve also had a 24 mm cyst removed from my ovary. (Un)Fortunately, I know the drill on how these kind of minor surgeries go. Long story short, I totally thought I was prepared for this entire scenario. Until I realized, “What if they make me stay in the waiting room because I’m not his mother?!” Cue instant anxiety.


At 5:30 AM on the day of Little Man’s surgery, M, the munchkins, their mom and I, all walked in together and signed him in. My anxiety began to grow. We waited until they called his name then M and their mom walked back with Little Man. I stayed with Little Miss in the waiting room. Tears began to fall down my face. I wanted to hold his hand, I wanted to kiss his forehead and reassure him everything would be alright. But I had to wait.

After about 30 minutes go by, M came out and asked if I wanted to see him before they took him back. Um — DUH. I’m pretty sure I power walked the whole way back to his room. Little Man looked content in his hospital gown and blanket. I could see that he was already day dreaming about all the popsicles he was going to devour when he woke up. Typical kid move. I walked back out to the waiting room with Little Miss and a sense of calmness came over me. I wasn’t left out. No one forgot about me. I matter.

It was a quick surgery and they were wheeling Little Man out to his mom’s car. I hadn’t seem him yet, but I could hear him. He was wailing in pain. He made eye contact with me and just sobbed. There was nothing I could do to take the pain away. He was scared and in pain, and I couldn’t fix it. I did not cry in front of him though. I held it together. The second I got in our car is a different story, I cried like a baby and thanked God for two healthy children.

Their mom sent me updates the rest of the week, mostly every few hours. I was so thankful for that. She didn’t have to do that, but she did. I talked to him on the phone a few times and I could already tell having the surgery was helping him.

One of the days their mom sent me a text that said Little Man said, “This is the first time in my WHOLE life I’ve been able to breathe just out of my nose, with my mouth closed.” Hearing that brought more tears to my eyes. This poor boy has spent 8 years not being able to breathe, and now he can. This was going to change his perspective on everything! After a couple weeks went by he had his half mile run in gym class and shaved a whole minute off of his time. He was SO proud of himself and so proud that he could BREATHE the entire time!

At the beginning I was so caught up and worried about the waiting room, but in the end all I knew I really cared about was how Little Man was going to be. There will be times where I will have to wait, but I will be there waiting the whole time. I’m not going anywhere and I know the munchkins know that. I will always be there for them, even if I have to wait my turn.


6 thoughts on “W is for Waiting Room

  1. I’m glad this story had a happy ending! It sounds like you are making the blended family thing work for you all which is great for the kids as they get extra people to love them and that can only be a good thing!

    Liked by 1 person

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