I'm starting to think I'm going to have to change the name of my blog.
I've been spending all of my extra time at hospitals, doctors offices etc. etc. I'm starting to think I was destined to become a doctor. I didn't so the universe is forcing me back to them again and again. I've spent the last 18 years in hospitals with my boys. Cracked bones, abrasions head traumas, you name it. They were just getting over that constantly getting damaged phase, then I ended up in the hospital. I was just weening myself out of the hospital and now the boys are getting damaged again.
It's some weird cosmic cycle.
I've been by my son's side nearly the whole time since the nose breaking incident, a few days ago. Once they start out as your baby they stay your baby. I've been bringing him food and tea. He's in a great deal of discomfort that I won't even go into because it's so sad. He can't even lay flat.
I am thankful because up until the last 2 days, I wouldn't have been able to do this. The first day in the ER with my son exhausted me to the point that I left my lights on my car and killed the battery, then locked my keys inside at the hospital. It took me another hour and a half to have someone come and rescue me.
The next day I did the morning plastic surgeon appointment and the nose surgery in the afternoon. I had an embarrassing moment where the nurse had to untangle me from his stretcher because I managed to get caught on it. I was a zombie by the evening. I tried my best to be there for him even though I was still recovering from my surgery. I have forgotten to take my pills for days in a row. I haven't done the things that are vital for my survival. I hate this. My body keeps getting in the way of being who I want to be.
I am thankful, though, that I'm not flat on the floor. That's certainly a step up!