Sorry, ya’ll. whomever is actually following this kooky thing I do. The thing I do less and less ( write, blog, read, live appropriately).
I went ahead and ran headlong in to the night. .
I would say it was long overdue. I have kept the shit cool, even consoling others. I needed a rescue mission. I got it.
Thank you. You know who you are.
The thing is, medicine really helps the mom. But the mom became a guttural howling mess because she was alone at “home” ( I packed a whole box!) Go, me.
Truth is, I should not have been alone.
Silence can hurt someone. I could not stand the silence. Seven months of this feels like that Alien movie from the 70’s ( was it Sigourney weaver?) like something so painful was trying to get out of me. Pretty sure they call it grief. repressed grief. been there before but not with a 5 year old boy.
Top the who situation off with weird family issues.
Questionnaire: will your family get closer due to your son’s disease? Guess not.
Why not, Erin? I am the problem. I talk too much. I say it out loud. No body likes it but I won’t stop. Secrets will kill you if cancer won’t.
I am better today after being up the most of the night because of the blood ( gastrointestinal bleed again, his, not mine) and emesis, I did not know a small child could vomit on a respirator< try to sleep, I dare you to sleep while this occurs. You won’t.
Our doctor, our main man looks pissed in rounds this morning. Ash has a brand spanking new lung problem to go with the other ( aspergillus) < sp? I cant even begin to spell this next one. Too much blood in the bed. Too often.
They tell me he could get out of here.
St. Raphael. Anyone? Anyone but God because why are you doing this to him.
Maybe I shouldn’t write anymore.