"Surgery time, call me Swishahouse cause I'm about to get chopped n screwed," Kory's facebook status the morning of surgery. We waited nervously for the nurse to take Kory to the operating room. He was so scared, he had convinced himself that that he would go into surgery and never wake up. (One thing that he said over and over from the beginning of this ordeal is that he thought he was going to die, but hoped he didn't.) Donna, I'll just call her Kory's mom, (she raised him) was there. I'll never forget when she called and told him she wanted to be there for the surgery, he was so happy that someone, besides me, was going to be there for him. After he got off of the phone with her he looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "Donna is such a good mom." Let me just stop for a second to say this to Donna. I admire you for taking Kory in and loving him and raising him as your own, thank you for not giving up on him, we all know he was a handful. I want to thank you for being there for Kory when he needed you the most but also thank you for being there for me during and after the surgery. Now back to the surgery. The nurse came and took Kory down to surgery. (Thinking back hen I told him good-bye as they wheeled him away I was telling the Kory that I knew, the Kory that I spent the past 7 years with good-bye. He was never the same Kory again.) Donna and I waited in the waiting room. Four and a half hours later the surgery was over. He spent two nights in the ICU and one night in a regular room. We went home on October 15th.