How we got here pt. 3

I wrote in the previous post that TW broke down while I remained stoic. This isn't a statement of machismo, because the next day we were both breaking down and by Sunday it was I who was a mess as TW comforted me. In any case, we awoke Saturday morning to the nurses readying SB for transportation to surgery. We watched Dora the Explorer and distracted him from his hunger (he couldn't eat after midnight.) It was crushing to us that he had no idea what was about to happen. We told him that he had a bump inside his head and the doctor was going to fix it. He would take a nap and it would all be ok.

We walked alongside his gurney, joking with him while holding back tears. After we arrived in the pre-surgery waiting area, we only had a few minutes alone with SB until the neurosurgeon arrived. I can't remember now what was said because my head was spinning. In fact, I can't remember much of what was told to us in those first few days. It was only on Monday that I learned the word Pilocytic Astrocytoma. I do remember being told the surgery would take 3 hours. We were in the waiting area for the next 4 hours, hopeful until the 4th hour.