In reflecting on the past several weeks (okay, months!) I think about how few moments have felt like they took place in real time, when I wasn't juggling event planning, kids, and home. There is one exception to this feeling: hospital time.
Miss E's treatment hasn't slowed down just because my work sped up. Infusions, appointments, and even a surgery have all taken place this summer. Time stands still when we're at the hospital; it always has. It doesn't matter if the invitations had the wrong time printed on them, the wine order was misplaced, or even if the dog got out of the yard.
My focus is Miss E and we can't leave the hospital until we're done. Period.
Hospital time has its own type of stress: is she going to have a reaction to this medication? Did they remember to use latex-free gloves? Will she awaken from anesthesia smoothly or will she struggle? Oddly enough, even with being hyper-aware of everything happening, there's some comfort in hospital time. I can't really explain it, but it means that my entire focus is on Miss E.
Hospital stress is a known stress. It is easier than crisis-prompted, or calendar-prompted stress because I'm used to it; I've been doing it for 8 years. It's necessary to make my child feel better, and I know what to expect. So does Miss E.
For all the mamas in the rocking chairs who have eaten nothing but vending machine snacks for days, and have made countless trips to the freezer for "just one more Popsicle" for their little ones: I feel you. It's frustrating to feel stuck at the hospital, but it's an experience with your child that most parents will never have.
Try to make the best of it and make some good memories in a difficult situation. Snuggle up, watch some movies, and share a Posicle.
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