The grand finale!

The saga of heartsong's hand is finally over! We went to see the plastic surgeon this morning and he's given Hayden a clean bill of health. The wound has healed quite well thanks to the constant attention of the nurses at our local hospital. They bandaged his fingers straight every night and as a result, the scar seems to be healing loose enough for him to be able to use his fingers normally.

He left the hospital today with just a simple band aid over the biggest wound. The other fingers have healed enough that they don't need any further dressings. The whole way home and then to school, Hayden just stared at his hand. He'd touch his fingers cautiously and show them to me as if they were some strange new growth. I'm sure his skin is prickling with every little sensation after being tightly bound for the past two weeks. He was still holding it protectively when I left the school, not quite believing that he had two useful hands again.

I'm sure that by the time I pick him up tonight, he'll have forgotten he ever had the bandages. I wonder if he'll revert back to using his right hand or if he'll stay a lefty. I've had a few friends tell me that this might have been a great experience cognitively as Hayden would have formed all new pathways in his brain as he learned to use his left hand for writing and eating.

Someday, as he receives his Nobel prize, I'll remind him that mummy made it all possible.

More than you wanted to know about WordMama

So my doctor's office called last night (at about 8:30 p.m. - strange) to say that she has referred me to a dermatologist for the lump in my armpit. She had second thoughts on her diagnosis of a benign cyst and wants a second opinion. Um, slightly alarming. So now I have appointments with a dermatologist, an OB/GYN (because I haven't had a physical in about two years), an ultrasound, a specialist that links some of my physical symptoms with mental ones, and a homeopath. The thought of it all is a weird combination of comforting and disturbing. On one hand, I'm glad that these specialists will be able to rule out anything major. On the other hand, what if they find something instead.

Now, if I'm straight with you, you need to know that in addition to being slightly OCD (things need to be done in order and to be in their place) and more than a little germaphobic (which stems from getting sick so often), I also tend to "prepare for the worst but hope for the best." This line of thinking is designed to strengthen you to deal with bad news, but more often than not, it just makes me a little manic. There's nothing yet to worry about, but it doesn't seem to stop me from fretting about it.

Before I had Hayden, I used to believe that I would die young. No definite reason why or how, just that I would never reach middle age. It's a lingering thought that has been with me since I was a teenager. Now that I have my heartsong, I find myself fighting back this notion. I can not and will not die young because I am a mother and Hayden needs me. End of story.

So reading all of this over, I realize that I'm coming off as completely insane. I assure you that I haven't come unhitched. The OCD, germaphobia and strange premonitions are things I've lived with for quite some time. It's stress that brings them front and centre. I'll just be happy when all these appointments are over and done with and the guessing is over.

Anyone else out there ever have these kinds of situations? Am I alone in my weird manic state? How do you deal with not knowing, modern medicine, and stress? I could use some real life mama tricks and tips!