So, the last time I posted I have to admit I might have been a little over-confident in my ability to handle my son's surgery. Still, going in with a rosy perspective probably helped more than I realized.
My husband was about to start a new position in the company he's been distributing with for the past two years...a pretty big promotion. So I decided I could handle surgery day and the hospital trip all by myself. It started off fairly well. We stayed at my mother in law's condo, she's been living in Onarga since her nuptials. It was a relief not to have to drive the extra hour in the morning, but I still had to handle Sam, get a shower, keep everything picked up, make sure I was organized for the morning and get Sammy to sleep without Darrin there to help me. It took some doing. I awoke at 1 a.m. and thought of something I couldn't leave for the morning as I would surely forget it by then. So up I got to take care of some minor detail only to lay awake for the next four and a half hours wishing for sleep. It never came. So we got up early to prepare for our day.
Surgery went fine, Sammy did great, I fared so-so. Waiting for the surgeon to come back with his report was the worst, I was fairly neurotic then. But as soon as I heard all went well and he was in recovery I calmed back down. Fifteen minutes later my little boy was resting quietly on my chest where he belongs. Fifteen minutes after that he was up and ready to play. The nurse couldn't believe how well he handled coming out of anesthesia and constantly apologized to me for having to make us stay the hour so they could ensure he was okay to release.
The hour drive home wasn't terrible. We had to pull over on the off ramp so I could locate a pacifier that had gone astray. Then we got home...and I was still by myself. Darrin was trying to prepare his route for our purchaser to take over so he was fairly late coming home. And I was exhausted from little sleep and extreme stress. When Darrin did arrive it eased a little but I was still not myself. I had prepared a crock pot meal so no food prep (those are the best evenings!) but I wasn't terribly hungry. Then off to bed my little man and big man went, I followed shortly thereafter.
At half past midnight, we ran into a complication. Croup attack, our worst in two years. So mama was up from then until 5:30 when shortly after our second neb treatment I could finally let myself stop listening to his breathing. So I slept a half an hour then got up for work. Not a great thing, going back to work when your child is home sick. But he was with Darrin so everything would be just fine.
His croup is usually brought on by a viral infection so we spent the next ten days fighting off a chest cold, only we were on the losing side. After the fourth day of a low-grade fever that ibuprofen and acetaminophen couldn't shake I decided it was time to visit the Dr. We were on the verge of pneumonia. And again I was by myself. Darrin had a big meeting in Peoria that day and was driving to the condo in Champaign for the night. It was a super heavy dose of antibiotics and a cough syrup with codeine to help him and mama sleep, and as always, hit the neb every four hours. My lovely mother helped us out the next day by staying at home with my poor sick little dude so I wouldn't miss more work.
Five days later Sammy and I headed to Champaign for the surgical follow-up. I had high hopes that everything was going to look good. Then I was delivered the news that the left tube was plugged, and the ear drum wasn't moving at all and his hearing was more diminished than it was before surgery. Wow. Socked right in the stomach. And again, I was alone. The surgeon was hopeful that the strong antibiotics we were on for the lungs would clear up our head and allow some drainage out the back. We were to come back in a month for a recheck. That drive home was pretty mind boggling for me.
As I step into a supportive role for my husband while he enters the next leg of his career, I realize how much I miss his support when he is unable to be there for me. It makes me appreciate the things that he usually does, even the small things like doing the dishes and pulling the trash can back from the curb and putting Sammy to sleep at night. I rarely verbalize my gratitude and that needs to change. The other thing that needs to change is my go it alone mentality. This is partially what led me down a path of depression in the first place. I isolate myself and my feelings from those who love me because I can handle it by myself. (hardy har har) Yes, I CAN do most things on my own, but can and should are rarely the same thing.
