Two weeks ago today, Brendan Bjorn underwent a spinal fusion. Tonight, as I type this blog piece, I sit here in the dark of his hospital room on the bench which has become my bed. I’m wearing the Harry Potter pyjamas bought while with my younger son, Declan, while out spending some rare one on one time with him awhile back. And I’ve been crying. In fact, not long ago, one of the nurses came in and discovered me sitting here doing just that, much to my embarrassment.
I’m supposed to be stronger than this.
About an hour ago, my long time friend of over 2 decades – who also happens to be Declan’s Godmother – sent me 2 photos of Declan sporting a new haircut and new outfit. Even new runners. He looks smashing! I have 2 incredibly handsome boys (I say in a mother’s unbiased tone).
And I cried.
I don’t know if many will understand why I cried. There are actually a number of reasons: I miss him terribly; I wish I could afford to pay for a barber every month – rather than the not so great home haircuts I give; I wish I could afford to buy him new clothes and runners from a sports shop instead of a grocery store; I wish I could be in 2 places at once with both boys as they both need me in such different but equally important of ways.
I wish so much. And sometimes, wishing hurts when those wishes can’t be fulfilled.
Directly in front of me at this moment, while I sit here in the dark, I see the monitor I’ve been watching with worry all day. His O2 sat remarkably great at 100%. That’s even better than mine! It’s the heart rate today which we are keeping a close eye on. The green glow of a too low rate in the mid-50s shines out at me. Brendan is moaning and grinding his teeth, clearly feeling miserable. Most of the day he’s been asleep, not even able to easily rouse him. Far too pale. Low temperature (which tonight turned into a fever). Continued issues with his bowel movements since his surgery 2 weeks ago. X-ray, blood tests, ECG, physical exams – all done today with no telltale results. We are all thinking maybe it is a lack of nutrients as he hasn’t been on his formula feeds since last week because of the GI issues. But as he continues to have the GI issues, they are starting him on IV nutrition called TPN. And tomorrow, if the TPN is to continue for more than a day, they will once again place a new central line as TPN is hard on the veins. Yet another infection risk. Yet another worry.
My heart is in two places tonight. One half rests with the son only a few feet away from me, who thankfully is now fast asleep. The other half of my heart rests with the son who wants to be here with his mother and brother but simply cannot be.
