Caring can hurt

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Caring can hurt. It can hurt like hell. And this morning, I hurt. No sugar coating or mindfulness today in this post. Just real life thoughts and emotions.

I awoke to the sound of Brendan Bjorn’s seizure mattress alarm going off over the baby monitor. He was in a tonic/clonic seizure with very hard convulsions. His 02 dropped into the 50s, complete with extremities turning blue, and I readied the rescue medication. He came out of the seizure just before I administered the medication, his O2 returned to normal, and he slipped into a hard-shaking postictal phase. I leaned over his bed and held him in my arms, gently stroking his hair, telling him it was ok. 20 minutes or so later, he stopped shaking and drifted off to sleep.

My back, complete with discs that are degenerating in a number of places, hurt.

My heart, complete with a mother’s love for her first born child who she will one day lose, hurt.

My mind, complete with the overwhelming stress of fighting for timely, appropriate care for my son, fighting to make ends meet financially, fighting to keep my other son happy and content and secure, hurt as it spun in a myriad of swirling thoughts and emotions.

My body, complete with the newly diagnosed very high cholesterol, low thyroid, and return of higher than normal rheumatoid factor thanks to the auto-immune disease of rheumatoid arthritis, hurt all over as it just wanted to go back to bed but knew it wasn’t allowed.

My soul, complete with the wide range of emotions that come with this difficult journey, hurt.

I sit here now as I type these thoughts and I watch my precious angel over the video monitor next to me on the couch. And I wonder…oh how I wonder…about so many things…

I wonder if I will get the energy up to do the exercising that my GP has requested I begin doing on a more regular basis. I know I must, because I must keep my health as good as possible so I can continue to care not only for Brendan Bjorn, but for my youngest son as well. I wonder if there will be another seizure today. I wonder if we will end up in the hospital. I wonder if Brendan will receive timely care for his just discovered drastically increased scoliosis. I wonder if his pressure sore will begin to heal or will it worsen. I wonder if anyone will ever recognise what family carers like me go through on a daily – hourly – basis. I wonder if all this fighting just to survive will ever ease.

And, I wonder if our life will ever be secure, peaceful, stable, and without so much hurt.

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