A woman writes about her son, who was born with multiple disabilities; he is currently in the PICU (Pediatric Intensive Care Unit), recovering from yet another medical crisis.
The beeps and hums of machinery take up my days. I sit here at the hospital, at the bedside of my son, Brock, who is currently in a drug-induced coma, to keep him from pulling out the tubes that have invaded his body.
My son is four years old. His name is Brock. Brock Edwin. He was born with severe disabilities that have compromised just about every area of his life. At the age of four, he is nonverbal, can't walk or sit up on his own, is fed by a tube in his belly, and is not toilet-trained.
Even Avery Nichole, his two-year-old sister, is able to do more than her brother.
Doctors don't know what happened to Brock when he was being born. They think somewhere down the line his brain was damaged; as a result, he is severely handicapped, profoundly retarded, severely physically disabled. He has the mind of a six-month-old baby: he doesn't know much. He'll always be like this, according to his doctors; he'll never get any better. The only thing we can do is keep him alive, take care of his needs.
Of course, as you can imagine, we were devasted. Brock was our first child. We were certain we'd have a future halfback in our son, a son who would grow up to play football in college (and possibly go pro); yet when he was born, all this was dashed to pieces when the doctors gave us the news that he was born brain damaged.
Now instead of having dreams of football glory for Brock, we concentrate on keeping him as well as possible (between hospital stays) and taking care of him, as any good, caring parent should. We cry when we think of the little boy that Brock will never be: a little boy who can run around, jump, talk, play.
Instead, our little boy lies there, unable to communicate, unable to do anything for himself.
When out in public, Brock sits in a wheelchair; straps hold him up because he can't do it by himself. He can make noises, let you know how he's feeling (by his noises or by blinking his eyes), but Brock can't talk to people, tell them hello. He is prone to all kinds of sickness, unable to swallow; every so often we have to suction his throat so he doesn't choke or run the risk of getting pneumonia again.
Well, that's exactly what happened. Brock got sick three days ago; my husband found him in his bed, face blue, gasping for air. That's when we called for an ambulance; he's been in the PICU since, where doctors have knocked him out, so he doesn't pull at the tubes. And meanwhile, here I sit, at Brock's bedside, waiting, wondering, worrying if he is going to make it through this latest medical crisis.
I will be keeping you abreast of how Brock progresses in his recovery; you haven't heard from the last of me! Besides, I have to go because the doctors are here; they want to do yet another procedure on him.
Wow! My hearts in my stomach!:(
You wrote this well Karen!
I feel for them all! YOU found this story to share or what?
My prayers are with them!
Warmed in the Spirit, Warrior Purple Lady Sweet Sheooxxoo
Heartbreaking story, but every child has a gift I truly believe that, maybe Brocks gift is to teach those around him compassion. I can feel the Mothers pain in this write
God Bless
Michelle!
That's the question that many parents are confronted with when agonizing and painful illness take hold of their children, wouldn't be they better to cease to suffer and go with God? Then again, we don't know what God's plan is, we shouldn't even attempt to comprehend, jus do our most to alleviate our little ones with all our power, love sometimes is the best anaesthetic for pain.
Georg
Suspenseful and close to home, Rain of Deception 2 will leave you in Tears. Much like Part 1, this will shocking sequel will keep you on the edge of your fingertips.
Spoken Word
This CD will touch the deepest inner part of your humanness and spirit, you will never be the same after listening to the depths of struggle, the reality of life, the touching voice of truth. It will shock you, move you to tears. It w
