My Santa is not quite as chubby as this one.
His hair is dark brown, instead of white.
There is no beard.
His wears a white coat, instead of red trimmed with fur.
It is not quite as cold as the North Pole, where he lives . . .
My Santa, complete with elves, is at the Mayo Clinic. He is determined to see my Christmas wish come true.
A call was received yesterday.
It was confirmed today.
I will meet with the surgeon, anesthesiologist and other members of the team on Monday.
Surgery is scheduled for Tuesday, December 14.
The doctor feels this needs to be done now, rather than later.
There may be no tree or decorations at our home this holiday.
There may be no shopping for presents.
There will be a gift, perhaps even a miracle.
To say I am scared, is an understatement.
I am not nearly as brave and calm as some might believe.
I have placed my life, my eyes and my hope in the hands of numerous doctors during the last 18 months. There have been complications and disappointments. It is sometimes difficult to trust again.
It would also be difficult to never see clearly again.
We are packing the bags and heading back to Rochester!
Actually, I never quite got around to unpacking!