Will will be in surgery, or going into surgery, early tomorrow morning. He needs to be at Baptist Hospital in Winston-Salem at 6 a.m. for anesthesia consultation and for warming chairs for later patients. We suspect he'll be in surgery between 7 and 8 a.m.
If you would, pray for him while you're brushing your teeth, getting dressed and driving into work. We'd appreciate it greatly. He was quite traumatized by the shots and stitches on Sunday night and is deathly afraid of having to be "poked" again. (Though he will be under general anesthesia, which only makes sense, but is a great relief knowing anyhow.)
Yesterday, we had a consultation with the hand surgeon. Before the doctor arrived I unwrapped Will's bandage, and Will wouldn't even look at his finger. He didn't want to see it. (I can't say that I blame him; it looks like something out of Frankenstein.) The hand surgeon told me that he would be opening up the finger to see what kind of internal damage has been done (nerves and tendons). He said sometimes, if the tendons have been crushed rather than sliced, fingers never regain full mobility. This scenario is a possibility in Will's case since everything happened in the door of a truck.
Anyway, as it stands, Will is wanting Mommy to be with him tomorrow, so there will be a very anxious daddy at home with the rest of the brood.
Will's doing fine, but he is scared. It comes out in little ways that perhaps only my wife and I would recognize, but it's difficult to watch, and difficult to communicate comfort in anything more than a hug, a kiss, and being close. Maybe that physical expression of our nearness and love is the best sort of comfort we have to offer anyway.
I'll let you know what we find out tomorrow. Thank you for all your prayers; keeping a three-year-old boy's finger somewhat immobile and dry and bandaged takes a good bit of Providence.