Hoping for the Worst

It's strange. I brought my child in for a medical test, and part of me hopes, prays that what we suspect is wrong is wrong. Even though it will require surgery and an unpleasant recuperation, I pray it's the answer. The poor kid needs to sleep!

Last week I took Zachary, age fourteen, for a sleep study. He arrived in pajamas, movie and books in hand, and got hooked up to all sorts of monitors as he settled in for the night. I got to stay the night, too, in a recliner in the same room. My prayer for the evening: "God, please let the boy sleep. Please let him sleep poorly. Please let them find the cause of his frequent waking at night and the exhaustion he feels even after what he thinks is a good night's rest. And please let it be his tonsils."
Zachary before. I'm not allowed to post Zachary after. :)
This child has huge tonsils. He snores nearly every night. Of all the possibilities for his sleep disturbances, big tonsils is on the not-too-bad end of the spectrum, so I guess it's not really hoping for the worst, but it hoping for the unpleasant. His huge tonsils are what his doctor suspects is the culprit. If they're obstructing his breathing while he sleeps, we'll schedule surgery. If removing his tonsils fixes his sleep issues, we'll all celebrate. With ice cream, as it would just be mean to have a pizza party for a kid with a painful throat. 

Arriving at the sleep study center, I just have to laugh. I had been up since 2:30AM, so was exhausted before we got there. I'm sure I snored. I'm sure I was restless. I'm wondering why they didn't invite me back for a sleep study of my own!

Now we wait for the phone call with the results. Zachary votes tonsils over apnea. Both of us can't believe we hope there's something wrong rather than nothing wrong. The boy needs to sleep.


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