A simple procedure, it’s almost routine. I worried beforehand; don’t forget the paperwork, make sure he’s bathed, let’s not be late, what to pack for an overnight stay?
He’s a big boy at 16, but not really that age. More like a 9 month old wearing big pants (and diapers). His favorite things: Sponge Bob Square Pants and a doll inherited from his little sister.
It’s been an odessey, raising this boy. His bio “dad” left before he was born. And had another son 5 months after Chance was born. We’ve only seen him since in court. Last I heard, he’s in jail. But nevermind him, he’s not worth my time.
Diagnosed very young, so extreme was his global developmental delay. He’s got CP, they said. And we started physical therapy, which gave me hope, for a time. A couple years later I heard them say, He’s going to be substantially intellectually delayed, which devastated me.
The seizures started at 3 or 4, can’t remember anymore. Scary at first, an ambulance called. Eventually they became the new norm. As well as more doctors and lots of meds. Hospital stays, to no avail.
So exhausted, how did I do it? Working full time and suffering undiagnosed fibromyalgia. My days spent in pain, my nights drinking it away. So how did I do it? There was no other option. There was no other way.
A simple procedure to help out with severe sleep apnea, a tonsilectomy. We would stay overnight in the PICU, that’s short for pediatric intensive care unit. Just a precaution, they said, this procedure’s almost routine.
The morning after, he’s doing well. Until a bad seizure, the worst one ever. Before I knew it, 20 people filled the room. CPR on my child, CPR on my child. Then a tube down his throat, and an IV in his neck. CPR on my child. What would happen next?