Son hospitalized Pt 2 in Age 36

You know…there is something shitty about knowing that your child is going to be in pain and sanctioning it. Right now my son’s IV infiltrated, you don’t need to know what that is, only that it had to be taken out. This will be the second one he lost while here. They need to start another one. And I need to be the one holding him, hearing him cry, and letting the nurses do this so that he can get his IV antibiotics.

It’s a perverse type of torture. Because its needed. He will be better for it, but at this moment all he knows is the anticipation of pain and getting worked up. Knowing that I and another nurse will have to hold him down in order for this to happen.

I wonder if he probably looks to me ask if to ask, “Mom stop them. Why are you letting this happen?” I wouldn’t know, because I don’t look at his face. I keep my expression cool and collected. I whisper words of comfort in his ear, how’s he’s stronger than the Hulk. All the while wishing to be anywhere else, but here holding him as they do this.

And that in and of itself is perverse, because, if he is in pain I want to be there to comfort him. I do not want him to endure this with a stranger holding him down and giving him deeper PTSD. If you are a parent, you will never know the depths of 1, your endurance and love, and 2, your child’s endurance and bravery until you both are in the shit.

And this is hell. All I want is to take him home. To transition to oral antibiotics and monitor him at home myself. But I can’t take him prematurely can I? He’s still spiking fevers, the infection is strong, and the antibiotics are doing the trick. Taking him home too early would probably mean relapsing because he didn’t get the full amount of days he needed.

I want him to be successful and to never repeat this experience as long as I live.