restlessOf course I did. We got to the hospital and they immediately put him through a battery of tests. I waited in the waiting room for a while, read two of the three magazines (Time's year end issue, an EW I had already read and he third magazine was the Christmas issue of Family Circle - I passed on that one). When it was ok, I went in and sat by his side for a while. He was groggy and sick.
I sat there and I looked at him. I could not help but think (no, make that obsess) on the fact that had I taken Billy to the hospital 365 days ago, everything in my life would be different now. I imagined holding my baby's hand, telling him it was going to be ok, waiting while they did the routine surgery that would have saved his life and nursed him back to his old self. I imagined how happy we would have been had that happened. How our future would have remained intact. Had I taken action a year ago, I wouldn't have met this new friend.
I'm not sure what it all means if anything. I know the toxic nature of the "what ifs" but they do creep in and create their special brand of emotional havoc. But why, during this time, was I asked to do something I wish Billy had asked me to do a year ago?
