I'll take it.

Tomorrow is Mason’s 4 month PCMC appointment. I hate these days. Although I am almost over the “anxiety and nausea for the week before appointment days” stage, I still really really hate them…and I did say ALMOST.

Every night when I put Mason to bed we talk about what is happening the following day. Tonight we talked about how he was going to the hospital and the doctor needed to see some pictures of his heart (an ECHO) which he thought was super great. We laughed and laughed about it (there may have been some tickling involved) and he decided on Alvin and the Chipmunks for the show he would watch during the procedure. Then I shifted the subject and to the topic of him getting his finger poked…yep…BIG mistake Mommy. He was immediately upset and teary eyed…BOO Mommy…

What do you do when your son BEGS you not to get his finger poked. Personally – you guessed it – I cry. Then I promise to get him special prizes and kiss it all better. Tonight I even told him I would get mine poked too…I hate getting my fingers poked – poor kid.

Sometimes it is hard for me to believe that he had gone through so much and to some a finger poke may not seem like that big of a deal, but I am here to tell you that it is. I have had several “would you rather” conversations about sick kids. Would you rather have a small child with a serious illness who cannot understand what is going on, OR, an older child with a serious illness that does? I am not sure what would be worse. Bottom line – IT SUCKS. While getting treatments he was too young to really get involved with all of the activities they did with the kids in the hospital. Too young to MAKE A WISH. Too young to understand why he couldn’t leave his room when everyone else could while his counts were down. Too young to understand why he didn’t feel good. Too young to know the things he was missing. Now, he is too young to understand why I have to hold him really tight so that someone can prick his finger and make him cry. Too young to understand what a stud he is. Too young to be grateful that it is only a finger poke and he doesn’t have a central line.

With all the crappy stuff, there is a bright side to the visits- seeing the great nurses, techs and doctors who become your loving, wonderful, nosy family members who burst through your door at any second are there and we love to catch up with them! WE LOVE THEM – although we are happy we do not have to see them all day and every night as we once did. There is a special bond that forms when you basically move into a room on the ICS floor for months at a time and are around them constantly. It is fun to see them and have them see how BIG Mason has gotten. I am sure it is rewarding for them to see what a handsome, sweet boy they literally kept alive. We owe his life to those people – yep – crying. Mason also remembers right where the toys are and some of the people who work up there. I am always amazed how “at home” he feels when we are there.

So bring it on! We’ll take the good with the bad and I will stop feeling sorry for myself because I have my son – which is a luxury so many don’t have. Confused, sad and scared – I’ll take it.

Post #7 – Wish us luck :-)