There’s a dangerous game that we all play, and today I was reminded that it doesn’t do any good to play. That doesn’t mean that I won’t stop, but I need to be reminded that it doesn’t do any good.
It’s that game where you convince yourself that somebody’s else’s life is better than yours.
The doctors are actively trying to take Charlie off his ventilator. At first, he wasn’t doing so well, so they decided to take him off all his sedation medication. Once that kicked in, he would open his eyes for up to ten minutes. As I stared into those eyes, fear hit me like a ton of bricks. I have no idea if my baby will be normal. I have no idea what damage has been done to his brain, and it will be a very long time before I know. All the "what ifs" overwhelmed me, and I excused myself for a water break.
While in the parent waiting room, I asked another parent how his child was doing. Similar to Charlie, his child had heart problems, and had to go on the heart/lung machine. Unlike Charlie, there had been no brain bleeds associated with the procedure. I’ll admit to being a bit envious that he had only one problem to deal with. With Charlie, we have to get his heart well, and then we’ll see what else we have to deal with.
Well, I am an idiot. The other parent told me today that his child will have to be put on the transplant list. So here I am thanking my lucky stars for my own problems. My son has lived eleven more days than they said he would. For that, I am thankful.