A mother writes about her small son, who lies in a coma in the pediatric intensive care unit. She is feeling anything but thankful.
Karla and I know this all too well: last year at this time I was in the hospital on Thanksgiving. Didn't get any turkey or the trimmin's; just got the nose hose out the day before, was on liquids.
I am not doing very well, I'm afraid.
I sit here in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, at the bedside of my little boy, Bryson, who lies in a coma at the present time. Things are not looking good at this time.
Bryson became sick three days ago; thought it was a regular fever, but then the fever rose higher; he ended up having a severe convulsion; it's been touch-and-go ever since. He was diagnosed with having a nasty strain of bacterial meningitis; his survival is doubtful at this point.
Doctors have been running all kinds of tests on him, to see how he responds; so far nothing. He continues to lie there on the bed, fighting for his life, hooked up to tubes and monitors. It is very depressing.
Especially now: tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I am afraid that I am not feeling thankful. I am thankful that my son is still alive--that's the good news--; yet doctors aren't that hopeful for his chances. There is a distinct possibility that he could end up a.) disabled somehow or b.) worse, brain damaged.
Every hour that he lives means more chances for recovery for Bry, yet right now his future is uncertain. He is totally lifeless; only machines are keeping him alive at this point.
A respirator breathes for him. IVs and other tubes drain fluids from his body or put fluids in. EKG leads taped to his chest and EEG pads monitor heart/brain activity. It's the only way we know he is alive; yet he is still so desperately sick; it's breaking my heart to pieces.
I will probably go home later tonight to get a change of clothes, bring some of my little guy's favorite music tapes or some of his books; anything to try to stimulate him, anything to where he can hear his music or me reading to him, since right now he can't do it by himself.
I will also bring some shower gel and soap, so I can bathe here. I am scared to leave my little boy's side, for fear something will happen to him while I'm gone. The last time I tried to do this (yesterday) he had a spell with his breathing; they nearly had to do a "Code: Blue" on him. It was scary!
I will write more in a few days; hopefully I will know something about Bryson's outcome. I don't know why this had to happen; I am beside myself with worry. If I were to lose my child I don't know what I would do!
It is probably the worst thing a parent can ever go through, especially during the holidays!
~Written by Gladys Humphrees, Bryson Blake's mother. :(
The solitude of a hospital bed...looking at the ceiling is not like seeing the sky smiling at you.
We sometimes tend to forget our sick, assuming they are taken care for
Georg
Reviewed by LadyJtalks LadyJzTalkZone
11/21/2007
Wishing you two and family a wonderful Day. Lady J
I can appreciate this Karen. Two years ago I was there myself. Life isn't easy but then God never promised us it would be. Lots of trials along this trail of life. Hope you and yours have a Happy Thanksgiving and God bless. Special blessings to all those who may be stuck in hospitals this year. With prayer and some help from God and the good doctors, let's pray they are all home for Christmas. Hugs from your friend in New Hampshire. Paul OOOOO
