Eleven days here. I never thought we would STILL be in ICU. Imagine that.
Yesterday I was so upset because Taylor's nurse told me that every time I went into the room that Taylor's blood pressure went up. It is true. When he saw my face, he would fiercely try to talk through his trach and tell on the nurses for the shots and the blood-drawings and the caths and the restraints. He SO wanted me to help him; he became agitated and desperate. It was awful to watch. I felt completely helpless and defeated.
But, because I was the one face that stirred him up, the nurse asked that I not go into his room for most of the day. I fell apart. What??? Who would take care of him if not me??
Remember in those old-timey movies when a woman gets hysterical and somebody slaps her---in an effort to "bring her to her senses"? (I think in the year 2012 they might even call this b***ch slapping if I know my common street vernacular.) WELL, my sister basically did this to me. And then she said, "You should blog about how this makes you feel."
My immediate response, "NO! Martha, YOU need to be my guest blogger. I am too upset! They have fired me from being his mother. I have never been fired before from anything, so if you think I should talk about this, then you will have to do it."
That was yesterday and this is now today.
What I am learning: I knew that Taylor would be going through drastic changes this week. I had not prepared myself for my own need to grow, expand and learn---about myself---not about him.
Wow, this balancing act of being a mama, a woman, a professional person, a sister, a friend---someone who has got a life of her own ---all of it---straight up learning curve these days.
I'm glad they kicked me out of the room. I'm thankful that my sister forced me to unclinch my white care-giving knuckles. I have a lot of healing to do myself. Anybody want to get in that line with me?
