Letters Home

There has been so much going on the last few days, what with visits to the ER, multiple doctor’s appointments, and my continued fight with the state of Arizona to provide Max with the care he needs that I really haven’t known what to post about – sort of “pick a topic any topic” situation. But in the end I realized that most of my list is really just our typical stuff, nothing glamorous or earth shattering and certainly not newsworthy. My lack of posting material came to a screeching halt when Max came home from school with the following note for his dad. This note resulted from a conversation that Michele and Max had that morning before school. Max was beginning to recognize the inevitably of his upcoming cardiac surgery and was peppering Michele with questions, all of which Michele answered in his usual soothing manner convincing Max that everything would be OK because he would have so much more energy to run around and play after he gets his new valve. Max seemed to walk into class that morning at peace with what needed to be done. And then Michele picked him up after school…..not so much at peace anymore Max shoved this note into his father’s hand. There are many heart wrenching qualities to Max’s words. One, he took the time to write the note in Italian (mostly) which is a bit of a stretch since he’s never had any formal writing classes in Italian and, two, notice the way Max signed the note. Max generally signs his notes with a heart and his name, if you look closely the heart he drew in this note is broken. The note translates as:

Your stupid surgery idea for me is bad and crazy, dad.

Max

P.S. You want to ruin my life.

So although Max is starting to accept things he still hasn’t completely come to terms with it emotionally. But then I really don’t think any of us have, how do you ever really come to terms with your nine year old son’s fifth heart surgery?