Normally, I don’t think much about my children’s health to the degree that I have been forced to over the last few months. Between my seven month old being in the ICU of a grown up hospital not really meant to treat anyone but wounded soldiers, to my five year old being shuffled out to a hospital where no one seems to speak or understand my language, I’ve been forced to think about it.
Yesterday, my five year old went in for a sedated brain MRI because they believe she has a brain tumor on her cerebellum. It was hard to see her so scared and upset.
But while we were there, there was a woman with a baby probably just a few weeks old if even. The baby never cried. She laid in her mothers eyes, screwed up her face, opened her mouth to cry and nothing. No cry. Instead, there was a horrible sucking and gurgling sound coming from a wide tube shoved in the baby’s throat. Not DOWN the throat, but IN the throat. Barely even born, and the baby had a tube as wide as a my thumb through her throat. They kept suctioning her through the tube in her neck, holding oxygen to the tube, and when they were done, they plugged it with a cap.
And I felt for the mother who was so great, holding it together because I wanted to cry when I saw that.
So, I count my blessings.
Every cough and cry that my babies, every one of them, at least I can hear them. As sick as my babies have been, I think that there are others out there with children who are sicker.