Today Adrian started sleeping, finally. But in hospital they wake you for so many things! Blood pressure. Bloodwork. Glucose tolerance test. Lunch. Dinner. This test and that test. Team of doctors here. Et caetera. In the midst of terrible worry, I had to smile - last night was his worst 'crazy' night and the guy on the other side of the curtain in the room they shared was growling, so my son growled back, and was moved into a ward. He ripped his IV out twice and escaped from the ward, going up to the top floor, where everything was locked before he was caught and brought back to the ward! He was only trying to go for a cigarette, apparently. So they moved him into another semi-private and have "a sitter" with him 24/7, and as his vital signs normalize he is calming down. He's enjoying the company of the various "sitters" too I think.
I'm at the hospital about 8 hours a day, have stayed over two of the four nights he's been there. I love my son. I am grateful he is alive. I am grateful for him. He is a beautiful son, a beautiful person. The worst of the crisis has passed, and it comes with jolting awareness. I knew my son was complex, often depressed, sensitive, creative, intelligent, generous, feeling, carrying far more than he ought to, responsible, and yet I thought with the progress we've made this year, after his father kicked him out and refused to let him even go to pick up his clothes or anything else, so humiliating, this year he's spent with me, that as we worked through everything he was okay. He'd enrolled in college, was working part-time, has been dating and become close friends with some fantastic women. He seemed to be stabilizing. It's been a hard, uphill struggle for him, but something cracked. I'm not sure what. He is as fragile as are we all. I don't know how to be there for him in the ways that he needs. But I will try harder. Changes are ahead, what or how we don't yet know.
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Cell phone photograph taken on Jan 23/09 by Natu, Adrian's sitter yesterday.
brenda, hang in there. Your response as a mother, friend, mentor, are wonderful. Stay strong and my thoughts are with you.
ReplyDeleteAnna G
labconfidential@yahoo.com
Dear Brenda,
ReplyDeleteI a holding you both in my thoughts.
I'll remain really grateful this year for contemporary medicine, and for the wonders of "luck" or "karma" or "grace" that spell the difference between the worst and another chance.
ReplyDeleteFor me a few weeks ago, for your son today. I'm hoping this episode continues to build the bond you guys have, and helps him see where he is, and how he is loved.
All my best to both of you. Take care. Please.
So happy to see the photo. All my best wishes to both of you (I'm not on Twitter, only read the extracts from Twitter latest in your blog sidebar).
ReplyDeletethinking of you and your son with hope for his healing in all ways. i am glad he is recovering physcially and that he has love and support at home. i hope that he will have a good, professional therapeutic support team when he is discharged to help him work through the issues which drove him to despair. wishing you both peaceful days and nights. hugssss, brenda.
ReplyDeleteThank you all so much for your kindness, support.
ReplyDeleteAnna, yes, it was a long and difficult week, thank you for leaving a note, it helped.
Tamarika, you are so sweet to drop by with a note of empathy and encouragement, it meant a lot.
Narrator, yes, hospitals, but, oh, when you need them, a blessing. Adrian is in a large teaching hospital, the best equipment, excellent care (2 'teams' of doctors). And your dear knee, splintered, and now healing and the slow recovery back to use... sending you sweet recovery energies. Many thanks, meant a lot.
Jean, and you, too! To have you drop by touched me, thank you.
Sky, ah, being a parent, as they say, never gets any easier. It's been a tough week and there are tough questions and changes ahead. We are all much more aware now. I only hope we make the right decisions that serve him in the ways that he needs. Thanks for your wise words. xo