I've been avoiding this post. I've been staring at Facebook, doing dishes, laundry, watching mindless TV... whatever it took to not have to post this. Even now I'm not sure it will be successful. If you haven't been keeping up, click here. After I emailed a friend the story he replied with "I can only imagine how you and Don must have felt throughout the whole experience." Felt? I was much too busy doing to feel. I had to watch over my daughter and make sure she was getting all the help she needed. I had to make sure she was not in pain. I had to make sure she was resting. I had to inform everyone else about what was going on... there were Facebook posts to reply to and text messages and phone calls. There was no time to feel. I was in Mama Lion mode. I had to have the brave face and not let on to Kayla just how scared I would have been if I had given myself time to think about it. Even now I'm not sure I want to go there. Or that I can go there. Everyone asks me how I am and I smile and say I'm fine. We are taking it day by day. The meds are working. The blood clot has dissolved. All is well. Really. Every now and then when I'm telling the story I can feel the emotions creeping up but just as the eyes start to water, I push it back down. I'd be silly to fall apart now... three months out from everything that happened.
The truth is, we almost lost her. But my heart can't go there. My brain knows it. I know the severity of everything we dealt with. I know blood transfusions aren't just normal everyday procedures. I know she was severely malnourished and her vital organs could have been permanently damaged. I know Dr. Cross said we were lucky we came to the hospital when we did. I know Dr. Mike was trying to tell me with his eyes how quickly things could turn for the worse when we discovered the blood clot. I know he was trying to speak the truth without speaking the whole truth when he told me to be prepared for her to end up in ICU if the blood thinners and the Ulcerative Colitis worked against each other as they feared. I will never forget the look in his eyes. I know my heart jumped when he said "St. Jude". I know my heart broke when Kayla woke up from the scope and said "Are they sure its not cancer?". I know things were serious. I know things could potentially be serious again someday down the road if the meds don't work. I know another piece of my heart broke when she said "I didn't know how badly I felt until I felt better. Its been probably two years since I've felt this good". That means half of her teenage years. Half. My brain knows that.
My heart knows it too. I'm just not ready to go there. I'm not sure I ever can. As I watch her prance (as she calls it) through the kitchen with a smile and energy that I haven't seen in probably a year, I am hopeful for her future. School starts soon and she's ready to go back. I want her to thrive this year and take advantage of everything good that is coming her way... new classes, new friendships, new interests. Its such a magical time in a kid's life and I want her to embrace her opportunities. My heart wants to be happy for her, not sad. My heart wants her to have more happiness than I could ever dream for her. Maybe one day I'll have my meltdown. Maybe one day the tears will come and I will feel refreshed and get in touch with my emotions. I don't know. I'm still waiting for the meltdown from when she had a febrile seizure at age 2. For now I choose to be thankful and happy that today is a good day. (Ok, its only 10am but so far.... ) I'm thankful and happy that Kayla prances with a smile. I'm thankful and happy she has found a new love for the vacuum cleaner - cleaned her room twice in one week! I'm thankful and happy that our biggest worry right now is that the cable is out.
The dishes are calling and the laundry is waiting to be folded. I also must go take a Facebook quiz to find out what my Old Person Name should be. Life goes on.
