Wednesday, January 21, 2009

The night before...

It is bedtime for the babies at 8 pm, like every other night in our home. Tonight is different though, tonight JT knows he will not be in school tomorrow. He will be hooked up to an IV with a child-size IV stand at St. Joseph's pavilion being put to sleep for MRIs of his brain and spinal cord. I will sit in the waiting room and read, pretending like I am well-adjusted to this entire ordeal being that I have been living it for the last 25 years. This time though, that is my baby in there. It is my baby who cannot see out of one eye. It is my baby who has been having problems with motor control and hearing. It is my baby who will scream and cry helpless tears when they stab him with little needles. It is my baby who will be limp and unconscious as he is rolled on a gurney to recovery, where I can only hold him tight as his body shudders against the anesthesia. Over the last few weeks JT has asked several morbid questions. He asked me if an elderly family member was going to die. He told me when I died, he would miss me. He told me when he is an old man, he does not want me to die. He expressed a lot for a tiny 6 year old boy. Just now as I tucked him in to my bed his eyes welled up with tears that he was obviously attempting to choke back. I asked him what was wrong and they spilled over onto what were once precious chubby baby cheeks. He said I don't want to be knocked out Mommy, I don't want them to look at my brain. I smiled for him, put on the brave face that all parents must put on at times, and stroked his hair as I soothed his fears with calming words. I told him it would be fast, Grantish and I would be right there with him the entire time, and he could have a popsicle. My little man is no longer fooled by such platitudes, he has come to understand a tiny piece of his reality, and I could only be proud as he wiped his tears and pretended to feel better for MY sake. What an amazing child he is. Right now he sleeps, and I know his dreams are probably shadowed by anxiety. I miss his innocence and wish it were still easy to bribe him with cookies and ice cream. It seems my little man is already growing up, and neither of us has a choice.




3 comments:

Cindy said...

its not fair is it ... hard to find peace with this nf2 biz .. but you are doing a great job. My neice asked memaw once how old she was when HER grandma died. grandma told her the truth, about 10. my neice was 10 at the time but was fine with the answer. memaw is a young 60 something, not going anywh ere . kids ask those type of questions, its probably harder when you have a real situation that cud affect life span. good luck with mri's JT.SQUAMER

Cindy said...

lol, ignore the SQAMER. typed the stupid 'word verification' code in wrong window.

Tanyetta said...

Sweet Sweet JT will be in my prayers.

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