This whole “living like a firefighter” thing is messing with my already fragile little brain.
I am on-call to take Asher to the hospital at any given time. Any random fever, symptom or when a blood test comes back funky. The wind blows wrong…and we are in the hospital. We have spent 30% of the last 2 months…or 18 days in the hospital.
But it’s driving me nuts. Tomorrow we have a doctors appointment, so what did I do today? Cleaned my entire house, did all of our laundry, packed an overnight bag, and made a lunch to take with me. All over a 9:30am half hour doctors appointment. Just in case.
Now, after the second hospitalization where we went in for 2 days and stayed for 9, I live in paranoia town now.
After the last two times we took him to a public outing he has ended up in the hospital within a day or two. The outings did not cause the hospitalizations, yet now the thought of taking him into public gives me an anxiety attack complete with minor hyperventilating.
I am going insane.
BUT there is more.
There is another thing that makes the my brain currently a screwy place to be… I am actually missing the hospital!
I have become friends with a couple of the nurses (there are some super cool people there). I like not doing laundry. It’s easier to clean a tiny hospital room every day instead of an entire house. Someone else gives Asher’s his shots and medical care. I have my routine down and figured out.
There is a bit of relief, because I don’t have to be scared that something bad is going to happen medically when I am home with him, and I have to figure it out. So many little, seemly normal things, could be a symptom of something much worse. I am not medical professional, how I am I suppose to do this?
I hate what my son has to go through, hate it…but I ashamed to admit it, there is a part of me that doesn’t hate staying there. A little part. Maybe slightly bigger than little.
The day after we got home from the last time we were there, I found myself kind of sad, and it took me a while to figure out why. Part of me missed it. There is different stresses while being home that I don’t necessarily have there. I was surprised by the feeling, to say the least, but it was still there.
So I live in this psychotic fear of going to hospital at any given moment (last time I got the “come to the hospital” call my right eye twitched for 45 minutes), and kind of miss it at the same time.
Aaaaand I give up. Next stop for Jen is crazy town.
I hope they have chocolate.