Patience Is a Virtue

Have I ever mentioned that patience is NOT one of my virtues?

Approximately 2.63 light years ago (ok, it *may* have only been 17 days...) we submitted my son's complete medical history - all 124893 pages of it - to a doctor in Chicago. But he isn't just ANY doctor, he is THE doctor. A pediatric cardio-thoracic surgeon that has not only performed operations on patients like Owen, but has gone on to write articles about it. And even though these articles were written in a medical foreign language that required me to Google every other word, in the end we determined that if anyone was going to give us an answer as to whether or not Owen will need this surgery it will be this guy.

But it has been over two weeks and my sanity is running thin. My cell phone has been glued to me, afraid that the mere act of using the bathroom might find me in the middle of wiping when *the* call came in. Toilet flushing in the background = awkward first impression. Numerous times daily I imagine that I hear Men At Work singing "Who Can It Be Now?" - frightening enough by itself - but considering that this is the ring tone on my phone it has become downright haunting. I get a little reprieve on the weekends, because everyone KNOWS that specialists don't work Saturdays or Sundays (or even numbered days...or anytime after 2pm...).

I am a stubborn and impatient redhead, I will not deny that. But when you are waiting for a call that could possibly change the course of your child's life, every moment feels even longer and more agonizing than this year's Superbowl Halftime Show. No matter what the answer is, I just want a call. Just one little call. I'd even settle for a robotic message that simply says "yes" or "no".

Patience is a virtue? Clearly whoever coined that phrase has not dealt with a specialist...