What we want?!?

Today, as I was leaving the school, a friend said, "Congratulations!"   I thought..Congratulations? IS she crazy? Does she know that we just bumped the surgery up? They are going to cut open my son's chest .... The look on my face must of shown that I had NO idea what she was talking about. Then she said," You got what you wanted. The surgery sooner. "  What... wait.. that is what we want... I don't know what it is but as soon as I got off the phone yesterday with Boston, confirming the date for the surgery, I have been an emotional mess.  I guess now that we have a date it makes it all so real.
     On Wednesday, I took Jake to the cardiologist and his ankles were starting to swell, which I guess is a sign of poor circulation.  Then, Thursday was a mess, I still can't talk about it, but he was self destructing. The psychiatrist said he believes the lack of oxygen to his brain is beginning to affect his thought process.  So together we decided to call Boston and move ahead with the surgery, instead of waiting until after Jake graduates.
December 8th is the date. It is also my parents anniversary. Jake said he feels good about the date, because God won't take him from us on their anniversary.
So, as I arm myself with knowledge, I try to fight the fears, and remember we want him better... 70% of patients have shown significant improvement in their quality of life after having a myectomy. The success rate for the surgery is 99%.  Cases of reoperation occur primarily in two cases (1) the patient was young at the time of the first procedure or (2) the 1st surgery was done by a doctor with limited experience. Not the case with Jake's doctor. He is a ROCKSTAR.  
So just so I can make sense of it in my head, I want my son better. I know the only chance is for him to have this surgery. And although I know the surgery will cause him great physical pain. I want him to have the surgery, because I want him better.
So, thank you to my friend who reminded me this is what we want.  And I may be stressed, fearful and tearful... but this is going to lead to great things.
Hold Up.... SHENANIGANS.... I call shenanigans...
Can I call Shenanigans on myself ? This all sounds good and it's what I want to be feeling...  I want to be brave, truly I do.  But I'm scared beyond belief... I'm still a mom... just a mom picturing my little boy laying on the hospital bed, intubated, slathered with iodine, covered in bandages, punctured through his chest, multicolored fluids trickling through tubes in and out of his body...It so hard to fight the tears when that is what I picture.
I know.. I know..  Stupid teacher... Stop researching...