I have been struggling with trying to write about my challenges of the past few days. They seem insignificant when I think of the pain that others are suffering as they farewell beautiful Thalon and Madeline. I can’t imagine the pain that their families are suffering now, and the pain they will continue to feel as they remember their angels.
There is really no segue into how the pain that these people are feeling can possibly equate to how I am feeling as I lay awake at night, trying to comfort boy-child. I don’t know whether my tears are tears of exhaustion, frustration or of thanks because I still have my children with me to hug. I am not a religious person but I find myself praying for my family and for the families of those I know and love in real life and in the online world and wishing for their safety and happiness.
Now that boy-child has become accustomed to life with his arm in a cast, things were beginning to settle down. He was spending most days with his best friend playing in the park or wii-ing together. Girl-child has big girls that are her new favourite people in the world, so she is more than happy playing close to home with friends. We have even had more than a few child-swap sleep-overs. We were all having a great time.
Just last week, we shared a dinner with another family before yet another child-swap. It was during this meal that the boy-child pointed out some bite like sores on his broken arm, 2 near his arm pit and another one on his pinky finger, where the plaster caused it to rub against his next finger. It wasn’t causing him any discomfort so we slapped on some antiseptic like cream and a band aid and forgot all about it.
That was on Thursday. He didn’t complain about it and we thought no more about it. Friday afternoon hew was a little miserable, but not really complaining. By Saturday afternoon, despite having a friend over to play, he asked to go to bed. He was a little feverish so I helped him to take off his t-shirt to get more comfortable. That was when I noticed that he had a dozen blistery spots on is back and a few on his stomach. It looked like he had chicken pox – AGAIN. He was more than happy to spend the remainder of the day resting and watching movies.
Easter morning he was full of energy. I don’t know if it was as a result of the nurofen he had taken or if it was the prospect of a day of chocolate overload. He ate well, we all ate well, both chocolate and ‘real’ food. We all had a fantastic day with family and friends. We were going out Sunday night and my parents and sister were staying with the kids.
Not long after we returned home, he began to stir. He couldn’t settle. I tried to comfort him but nothing seemed to work. We spent an hour or so snuggling on the couch in the study before he was calm enough to go back to bed. I spent the remainder of the night dozing fitfully on the floor in his room trying to comfort him as he writhed about in pain. The pox had spread, it wasn’t itchy but he described the pain as ‘hundreds of little men tap dancing on his nuts’. In a sleep deprived haze, it was hard to try and keep a straight face with such a graphic description. Even nurofen wasn’t working, but sometime around sunrise he finally dozed off, from pure exhaustion.
When he woke a few hours later, his breathing was laboured and he found it hard to swallow. He was panicking and stressed and spent the remainder of the day sitting on the couch wrapped in blankets. Late in the afternoon, he actually asked to be taken to the doctor. Naturally it was just out of business hours, so it off to the hospital after hours clinic with man-child.
I was exhausted and sat around with girl-child, waiting. Apparently that is what boy-child was doing, he declared that the reason that it was called an after hours clinic was because after a while you work out that you have been sitting around for hours. It was good to hear that his sense of humour wasn’t suffering. When he finally saw the doctor, the chicken pox were confirmed, as well as a severe throat infection. Now he is back taking more antibiotics to fight the infection.
He was exhausted when they finally got home from the doctors and he fell asleep on the couch. I should have realised that the sleep wouldn’t last. After wandering downstairs to him twice in 15 minutes, I realised that it was going to be a long night and grabbed my phone and went to sleep alongside him on the couch. I use the term sleep loosely, he dozed fitfully and I comforted him as best I could. I was pleased to find that he was most comfortable watching and singing along to Dr Horrible, at least if I wasn’t able to sleep I would be pleasantly distracted. Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep.
Finally today brought some good news. He had to go back into the hospital for x-rays and a fracture review. As he is still in a contagious stage of chicken pox, he was seen first, ahead of schedule. Not only did an expected 2 hour sequence of appointments end in less than an hour due to him being pushed to the front of the queue. As well as getting in and out in an unprecedented time, the results were great, the screws in his elbow appear to be held in place securely and the break is healing nicely. He has good movement of his fingers, and even of his elbow where he has damaged the cast. He isn’t due to go back for another 3 weeks when they will remove his cast and do more x-rays before deciding if the cast can be left off.
Right now, he is upstairs not sleeping. He is struggling to close his eyes, not because he isn’t tired but because he has chicken pox on his eye lids and it is scratchy on his eye when he shuts them. Somehow I feel that it will be another long night!
