Ok, so my head is out of the sand and I’ve stopped blinking in the sunlight. My sweet boy will be having his surgeries on March 11. Our surgery coordinator from Princess Margaret Hospital has been so helpful and we are all set for our tele video conference on Thursday. There we will talk through everything we will need to know, to discuss what we need to do, and to find out what to expect – the logistics of it all.
I do know he will be in hospital for around 5 days, and that we will need to stay nearby for 2 weeks. We have been given accommodation at Ronald McDonald House, just over the road. That’ll be a godsend. Andrew will be doing the nightshift and I will do the dayshift whilst he is in hospital, and for the remainder we will sit quiet at R MsD’s House to recover until we can go home. He will have plenty of pain management and we will be taught all the aftercare needs. He won’t be allowed to leave the hospital until he is stable, which should be around 5 days, depending on how he goes. I know what the surgeries are, and what they are aiming to achieve with these surgeries. I know that if he doesn’t have it, he will most definitely have more pain later, unrepairable damage will happen and I sure don’t want that. What a good incentive to take him.
David, Lauren, Mum & Wendy will all be helping with the care of my 3 precious children at home here so they can still go to school and live normally, as normal as normal can be for siblings of a brother like Josh. They worry too. I vividly remember the time when one came to me sobbing over a nightmare that Josh had died, and proceeded to tell me in detail what had happened (horrific – I will spare you the details) Lord, rip my heart out right there and then, I know his siblings love him and worry for him too. They will miss their Mum and Dad too, who will both be on their own rollercoaster of emotions.
Then there’s the kid himself. He’s blissfully unaware of everything going on around him. He’s happy – extremely happy – actually as I type this it’s 25 past midnight, and he’s flapping his legs about, shouting from his bed still, little brat. He is so innocent, in every sense of the word, and I can’t help but look at him like you would an infant, so totally undeserving of the challenges he is continually given. No fear, no apprehension, just the raw feelings of the basic instincts, he laughs and hollers and flaps his knees together when he is happy, he sits quiet when he is content, he whinges & kicks when something is wrong, he cries and thrashes when he is in pain. Simple as that. God I wish so much more for him.
Say a little prayer for him will ya?