Alex can’t sleep. We are told by the Drs that the best means for his brain to heal is sleep. Today he is frustrated. He has spent another night having nightmares about people beating him in the head, unable to go back to sleep, as each time he finally manages to sleep, he is plagued by these violent nightmares. They check him regularly in Hospital, and from one minute to the next as he lies there, trying to deal with the pain in his head, trying to sleep, he is unable, it’s very disturbing in Hospital.
He told me he wants to discharge himself, he’s had enough, for him he feels he’d be better at home, at least he can shut a door, and have the means to rest and sleep as and when he needs it. We have been told to expect another month of him being in and out of sleep, and a month after that recuperating slowly and then the 3rd month, fully getting back on his feet. In fact the recuperation period can take up to 6 months.
My dilemma is this, if he’s at home, he is NOT in the best hands, I will not know what to expect as ‘normal’ when to be over worried, when to rush him back in if things deteriorate. For me I would prefer him to stay till Friday (as they’re anticipating) and then I will try and be around as much as possible. I will obviously take precautions when I am out, get a mobile phone so he can call me, leave the phone beside him in bed so he can ring me/whoever, if he needs to, and he will get rest. Thus he feels he will recover more quickly. And this I understand, but it troubles me.
The clot is still there, and whilst he is still so vulnerable and fragile, I think he needs to stay as long as possible, I am not even happy about him coming out Friday if I am honest, as he still seems in a very bad way. He does have his stronger moments, but he’s not eating. Partly as he finds the Hospital food repulsive, partly because he's in too much pain, feeling too weak, and partly as he is at the point where he’s had enough, he needs his home comforts. But I am afraid. I am not a Doctor, how will I know?
His dad went up to see him tonight, Alex was in a bad way. His dad will stay the night if necessary, as his head is worse again, a lot worse. The nurses gave him more morphine, and something to ‘knock him out’. They seem not unduly concerned. But his dad is staying nonetheless, and I will go as soon as I am free tomorrow.
I want him home, I miss him so, my heart’s racing pace never subsides, and I expect it will not subside till a scan shows it is finally going in the right direction. As I repeatedly say, it’s all this waiting. Nothing else matters. And with no conclusive ‘yes it’s started to be reabsorbed’ proof, emotionally I am wrecked, tired, wrought, alone.
I have eaten better today, a message from a friend helped me realise I really do need to eat, despite. Everyone’s messages have been of great comfort, and in fact I have little contact with this friend since school, so I was jolted into action, and am trying not to make any more excuses. I am eating little, mainly rice cakes, bananas, drinks of soup/tea/milk and a small evening meal. It’s not regular, I never know where I will be from one minute to the next. I find I am eating out of duty, it’s a chore, it hurts to swallow, my heart seems to be blocking it’s descent. But I do know I must.
Everyone’s messages are of optimism and of great comfort, and there are times when I feel it may be OK, but I struggle to keep myself afloat, I teeter on a thread. Waiting. Because no one actually can tell me ‘yes, he WILL be fine’, and that’s all I long to hear…
Life without you by my side is so hard my angel. May God give you rest, peace and heal you, may you be you, once more, may this time be one of life’s traumatic lessons, that we both come through together, stronger, closer to God, to what life is really all about.
I shall not sleep till your dad is home, I need to hear again how you are, I need constant reassurance. The nausea I feel constantly subsides a little when I know you finally sleep.
I need to keep writing, pouring out my anxieties, thoughts, doubts, my hurt, but my eyes burn with tiredness, and my mind finds it hard to focus. I shall try and rest a bit now till your dad’s here…