Am not talking about Arnold Schwarzenegger's movie, terminator 2: Judgment Day, nor am I talking about the recent newsworthy "doomsday" prediction of Harold Camping. The former being a movie I never tire of watching while the latter, news that I don't give any of my two cents' worth. It's almost 4am and again am still wide awake, perhaps the thought of going back to the hospital tomorrow is keeping me on my toes. It is bringing me unnecessary anxieties. I just hope everything goes well tomorrow and the days to come... It's not really going to be judgment day for any of us but the fact that in the next few days my son will go under the knife is not really doing good for the skin on my forehead. But at least I know that his breathing will be normal, he won't have to snore all the time, he won't be losing oxygen which is much needed by his brain. I know it is but a routine procedure but you can't blame a mother for being such a worry wart. Ask me to spell the word "worry" and I would have to spell it with my name.
Tomorrow I will hold my son's little hands but who's gonna hold mine?
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