Love breaks my heart, over and over again.
Love also saves me, one sacred breath at a time,
as I watch their chests rise and fall with the tidal rhythm
of life that moves through us all.
Two weeks ago tomorrow, I had to rush my husband to the hospital for a head injury he sustained while vacuuming in our garage on an up ramp. He developed a contrecoup head injury, sub-dural hemorrhages in both the frontal lobe and occipital lobes of his brain. Luckily, they were small and minor. He spent the night in the trauma ICU and was then able to come home. Unfortunately, a week later after suffering tremendous headaches non-stop, his temp spiked at 103. We took him to his PCP, who told us to go straight to the E.R. for IV antibiotics and likely admission to the hospital. We waited over 8 hours in the E.R. before he was given a room. After many mishaps during his stay (like a radiology tech infusing radioactive dye into an infiltrated I.V. giving him “Hulk” forearm syndrome) he was finally released yesterday.
Our 12-year-old had been admitted to the hospital 3/23 for high fever and vomiting. They thought he probably had acute acalculous cholecystitis, or an infected/inflamed gall bladder with no stones from his CT and ultrasound. He came home after 10 days on a PICC line for TPN, and complete bowel rest. Two hours after getting my husband home yesterday, our son started in with a low grade fever. At 5:00 a.m. it was 102.2, and he vomited up bile just like he had a month ago. So, we will probably be on our way to the hopital later today. It’s all becoming surreal.
I used to want to be a writer. Now I just want my son to live, and my husband to heal and try to make it a month with no hospitalizations. Sigh. Wish me luck.