We had a good long stretch of 7 months out of hospitals. From his discharge last August until this month we managed to evade Covid, cold and flu, RSV, and all other wonderful germs and possible ailments until a stomach bug landed us back in the hospital for a few days the week before last. We even got a few months with very few follow-up appointments or lab draws needed. To say we feel grateful and blessed to have gotten through the holidays with no incident is one of the bigger understatements of my life, and I'm trying to remind myself of that on the eve of this next trip to Salt Lake for surgery. But, I am learning that with long breaks and any illusion of "normalcy" comes this flip side that's almost as hard to live with as the rest. You almost forget the reality you live in, that it's not just some metaphorical struggle you once lived through and maybe still will again, but maybe you won't. You say you know and you talk about the possibilities or even inevitabilities but they aren't tangible, and with each passing week and month it gets even less so. It just becomes this thing you seem to say because you've always said it, but it doesn't feel real like it did before.
The planned surgery started out pretty routine and is actually great news. He was finally cleared by cardiology for his hernia repair and a gtube placement which will make life soooo much easier. But then this recent hospitalization happened, and subsequently, his need for oxygen resurfaced after not needing any for a few months. We don't have any clear answers for it and his BNP (a heart lab) is mysteriously elevated. So now this trip has also become a cardiac one. Kids like him would usually be cathed annually, especially with three stents in his heart, but we weren't expecting it and it's a mixed bag. I'm glad we can get everything done and out of the way but now that there seems to be some concern and need arising it doesn't feel quite so easy-breezy as it did. My mommy-spidey sense is telling me all is not quite right with his heart. I hope I'm wrong, and if I'm not, I hope it's an easy fix and we get back on the path that we were traveling.
We are grateful, however, that it is coinciding with us being there anyways and there are not weeks or months of waiting and wondering what is going on. There's also the impending intubation I am not looking forward to. While I know in my rational mind that he's bigger, stronger, and in the very best hands, that this time is so very different from the last, my mom-heart just can't quite shake the fear and tears that want to seep through.
So that's where we are at.
I feel like I could go on and on and do a lot better with explaining this, but it probably wouldn't be helpful at this point for me, and packing calls, so I'll leave it there for now.
We're good, he's getting the care and surgeries he has been needing, and yet, my mommy's heart is fearful and hurts today.
But we do the next thing, we put on our brave face and take the jump, we let go and let God, and tomorrow we hope will be better. There is always another side to each "and yet". Thank goodness.
(Photo by Pantel Mar - Pexels)
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