I'm not trying to be cryptic. I'm just trying to be able to get it out. And my story makes me cry. I cry every time I think about it.
Getting back to the end of my (our) summer...
July 26th... It is a beautiful early morning. I've gotten up early to go to Summer Junior Olympics (me = swim ref/official). I get a call from one of my daughters (my husband's daughter, to be exact). She cries and tells me to wake up her dad, that she can't get ahold of him. His son (age 25) has consumed Drano, "a drunken accident" and is in the hospital. She and her mom are on their way.
OMG. A flurry of thoughts running through my mind. This shit destroys things. It
And all the time, I'm calmly waking my sleeping husband. Bringing him his ultimate nightmare. Something tragic has happened. We are helpless.
I talk to him... tell him... We decide it is best for me NOT to go. The ex is always full of drama... has been for years, and never understands MY way of thinking. To me... it's not where they (children) come from. I love them all equally. And with this current situation, the less drama, the better the recovery.
I go on to the swim meet... keeping my phone open for updates. My senior meet official has been notified and is very understanding. I can leave whenever I need to. (The people I work with on a pool deck are all family to me. We encourage and support each other in every way, shape, and form. I feel very loved on a pool deck.)
Update at noon... He is subdued. They have given him medication to help him heal. (We have also found out that he (son) decided, "This shit tastes nasty!" and induced his own vomiting. [OMG! Don't tell me this!!! It just makes my vision and thoughts worse!] He is now in ICU, and they will check on him frequently.
A whole boatload of people is there. They are constantly going in and out of his room. No... not just immediate family. Like EVERYONE. This makes my decision NOT to go even more substantiated.
My feeling on ICU... I've been there. Really truly. Even though I was "unconscious", I could hear EVERYTHING. It was hard to get sleep. Hearing everybody talk. The whispers were just as loud. So were the footsteps. I used to think, "Just go away, so I can sleep!!!!" So... to me, ICU means LEAVE THE PATIENT ALONE SO HE OR SHE CAN RECUPERATE. Yep. That about says it, leaving out the expletives
The patient has been through enough drama and doesn't need more. Look at it this way... If you are sick, maybe you have a cold. It gets a little worse. You start taking medicine for it. It gets a little better... slowly. But... you take a nice long-and-restful sleep. And voila! You're almost back to new! You needed the rest. Your body, mind and soul needed it all. And that's what helped make you better. Right?
And so... If EVERYONE is there and keeps going in and out... they are NOT contributing to the patient's healing. And can, in fact, be making it much worse.
I want him to heal. To get better. To open his eyes and see us all.
Every day... we hear different things. I finally tell my husband NOT to listen to anyone else, but the doctor. I am tired of all the non-professional conclusions. People giving false information. It is aggravating and makes me feel anxious. It comes with ups and downs. So... I will no longer listen to what other people are telling him. Only the doctors. I'm going crazy with all of the speculation and pretense. Ugh!!!!
My husband continues to go everyday. My mother-in-law asks my husband when I'm coming. He tells her my opinions of visitors in the ICU (see above). [Don't get me wrong. I really do care about our son. I refuse to be part of the dramatic circus. If there were less people there, and they only allowed immediate family to go in... I'd go.] The hospital in Huntington Park allows the circus to continue. So I won't be part of it. My MIL tells my husband she is afraid what others might say.
Me? I don't give a crap what everybody else thinks and says. I already know what people do... they make it about THEM. Not about the patient. If they did make it about the patient, um... they wouldn't bug the patient. Duh.
And there is hope. "They" haven't told us anything different. We are waiting for an open bed at a Kaiser facility. "They" tell us he is sedated to help him heal and so his pain is bearable.
We've learned some other things. Alcohol and an argument were involved. Most everyone blames the girlfriend. I'd say more, but... I only know one side of things. I do know that ANY time he was with us (i.e., Father's Day, Family Reunion, etc.), the girlfriend chose not to come. And then... she would call and text him all. the. time. She did not let him be with his family. And the phone calls. She would yell (yes. I heard her voice!) and threaten to end "it" if he didn't do what she asked. Two specific days of time he was supposed to be with his family (to which she could have come, mind you...). Two days of nagging. The only two days we see him in the past month...
July 30... in the wee hours of the morning... He is transferred to a Kaiser facility in Downey. Yay!!!!
I'm now at my mom's. We are trying to go about as much as "normal" for the younger kids. And we had a staycation planned for all of my mom's grandchildren. The oldest two (one in the hospital now, and one staying vigil) had declined many of the things we are going to do. It is Wednesday... and we are laying on the grass at Soak City... I am constantly checking my phone. The doctor is wants to talk to my husband and his ex. I feel ill. But I am faking it.
I wait... and wait...