No Sprinkles On This Donut
I couldn’t go all the way back into the room as they prepped G for the “big donut” (without sprinkles on it, as he told me.) Instead, I directed them from about 15 feet away, saying things like, “No, you can’t start this until he’s fully asleep or he will freak out,” as the tech tried to tell him he might hear some of the loud sounds before he was totally out. “He will NOT be okay with that noise because of his sensory issues.” Also overheard was, “You’ve got something to strap those legs of his down, right? He’s a wild man in his sleep and if you want him to hold still at all, you’re going to have to contain them.” (Even so, apparently he wiggled his feet too much several times and they had to stop until he discontinued the wiggling.) And lastly, as they drew up extra sedation meds and doubled the drip rate to try to get him under, I saw his stray foot waving in the air and I knew he exactly what that meant. “Um, if you want him to go to sleep, fix his pant leg that is pushed up and rub his feet.” Yep. Worked like a charm, and he was out for his 1.5 hour + MRI, while I sat in the waiting room alone and trying not to vomit. And now, we sit. And wait. Well, really I wait, and he sleeps off all those sedation meds. Here’s hoping for results tomorrow. #waitinggame#atleastoneofuscansleep #iculife #tigermama #tigercub
“If you’re going through hell, keep going.”
For last night’s midterm, I needed to memorize the definition of the word “trajectory,” as it relates to one’s life, stated as “Relatively stable long-term processes and patterns of events, involving multiple transitions.” As I
The Coronavirus Slide
About five minutes before Gianna shot these pics of our spontaneous dancing to the Cha Cha Slide, (which I’m clearly not very skilled at, but do have the ability to laugh at myself whilst doing,)
Life Imitates Birth, As Per Usual
Nine months ago today, a new life was conceived. Nine months ago today, I began my day by walking my son into an operating room, for a pseudo-routine jaw surgery, as much as any surgery
Home is Where Your Nest Is
It's 1:49 in the morning. I am keeping watch over my son while he sleeps to ensure nothing happens to compromise his breathing and/or health. (These duties are shared by the nurse, who so kindly
Ooh Child…
Today, but a sheer stroke of luck, I had a break in my schedule. Instead of filling it with an appointment request, I took the time to go to a yoga class led by one
The Light at the End of the ICU Tunnel!
For over three months, I have looked at that white board in his room at the “Anticipated Discharge Date.” Blank. Empty. No ideas. (Save for Gianna who wrote a while back, “We don’t know.”) No end