(Rayzor coming home from the hospital)
I didn't want to write anything about what happened to Rayzor. I couldn't. But now I can. We are out of the woods. He is 150% better.
It started on a Wednesday a few weeks ago. He started feeling ill. Stomach issues and then he got better. But not. He was weak and was sleeping off and on all day. His stomach hurt. He forced down a cracker or a bite of toast. He kept drinking fluids. I kept thinking, tomorrow he will feel better. He will wake up and be all better. On Saturday he managed to force himself to come with us to go to a family party. He was lethargic at the party, and it scared me. My Dad thought he should go to the dr. So we went that night. They diagnosed him as having gastroenteritis. We went home, feeling better knowing that he had a diagnosis. He forced down half a cheeseburger. Tomorrow he will feel better. He will wake up and be all better.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday we went picking black raspberries. He couldn't make it down the row without sitting down or laying down. No complaining. Are you OK? Yes, Mom, I'm OK. His stomach hurts. I still felt scared. Why won't he get better??? At this point he was limping, foot turned in, crouching over. He looked pale, weak, gaunt, lethargic. I talked to my Dad Wednesday night. It's been a week! He should be better by now! Take him to the ER, my Dad said. Thursday morning we were at the ER, about 9:30 a.m. He was in good spirits. Finally they did a cat scan and told us his appendix burst, he would need surgery right away. He was wheeled back around 8 pm. All of our friends and family stormed heaven with their prayers. It was worse than we thought, the surgeon said. He had to make a larger incision than he thought. It was gangrenous, the surgeon said.
Now I was on auto-pilot. Thank you to all of our family and friends who took over at our house, to tend to the other children. Friday, Saturday, and he came home Sunday! On Father's Day. What a gift for Ryan. I spent every night at the hospital. I couldn't leave my son. My Baby Rayzor. We were in the thick of it now. IV's and wound care and bowel sounds and walking and dressing changes. Many tears were shed by Rayzor, so much pain. I broke down in private. I had to help shower my big son. I made myself smile and stay positive. I knew if I was positive, he would get better.
Home and there were still dressing changes, pain medication, antibiotics, showers, meals, drinks. Plus 6 other kids who needed attention and physically cared for. We had to get back to normal, but when? How? Thursday had us back to see the surgeon. Everything looked good. Come back next week and we will take out the stitches. Slowly back to normal we go. But what is normal?
The next week was the trickiest of all. Forcing Rayzor to get back to normal broke my heart. He wanted to eat in his bed, but I made him eat with us. I made him watch tv in the family room. I made him come back to being a member of our family. He broke down again. Sobbing. Physically he is better. Emotionally he was confused. Why? I realized he was not only affected emotionally in a childlike way, but he was also affected in an adult way, too. He will be a teenager in September, and he needs his father and he needs his Father. So I send them away, just the 2 of them, just the 3 of them. More tears shed by father and son. Bridges are built. Stronger bridges. Higher bridges. I am not out of the picture, but I am on the sidelines. We are all growing and changing. Ryan, Rayzor, and I are growing together.
Thursday brought us back to the surgeon to take out the stitches. We get into the car and look at each other. It's over, I say. He sighs.
