Anyone who has had a child or has a child diagnosed with anything in the brain region can attest, that it is the most horrifying news. For one, the brain controls the body. If that malfunctions, everything else goes haywire. When a mass, bleeding, or a tumor is found and the team of doctors walk into the room with a somber look on their faces to deliver the news to you, you feel like your world ended. And then when you walk into your child’s hospital room and see a stack of stapled papers explaining to you the different types of brain tumors/bleeds and the havoc that they wreak on these fragile little bodies…….it is enough to make you fall a part. Truth be told, I have a quite a few times and had to re-collect quickly.
Upon my son being released from the hospital 1 month before his brain surgery was to take place, he was being sent home with some very obvious deficits. His walking was different, he had a lopsided face like a stroke victim would have, and the worse of them all, was his frequent *projectile vomiting. Oh my God!…(and I am not using His name in vain when I say this). No one prepared me for that. How could they? I asked his doctor: How long will his vomiting last for? His response was: Because of the location of the brain bleed, and the fact that it grew by 50%, it is now pressing against the area of the brain that causes one to be dizzy and to vomit.
I went into complete panic mode. I thought: Oh Jesus! In fact I said His name out loud in a room full of residents. Some of these wonderful people knew us since our son was in diapers. Then I remembered my position beyond the hospital. I was a stay at home mother. This meant I would be cleaning up vomit from a child who never threw up, perhaps….often……..and I did, and sometimes off of me.
The doctor said his vomiting may subside, or it may continue until my son’s cavernous malformation was removed. That was a whole month folk’s. I was not use to vomit. I was always the kid growing up who hated even the talk of puke. I started having a mini anxiety attack. Mini and anxiety do not go together. So maybe I am not being very forthcoming with that one.
I asked the doctor: What am I going to do for a whole month? With the only other answer that he could give me, he had a smile on his face as if he were saying: “What else can I tell you?” He held up a bucket next to his smiling face, and said: You are going to have to carry these around. Oh God! Again, I say this…aloud.
We loved and still love our son’s previous doctor , because he with the help of God, really took care of our child, and really cared for him from the ages of 2 to 4. We saw him as family. So I knew the smiling was not to offend, but as a woman I got upset any how. I was upset mainly, because I knew I would have to deal with this. I was scared.
Men have their ways no matter their professions, and sometimes they come across a little insensitive even if it is not intentional. So in my vast rant of panic, a woman stepped in, my son’s RN on the neuro floor at Nationwide Children’s, and she talked to me so calmly. She responded by giving me advice on what to do when at home. “Place some buckets around the areas that you know he plays the most….I’ll send you home with a bunch of hospital buckets :)” I call them kidneys. She to, was a mother of a child who never threw up….until recently.
So with all of that being said, I took a long look at my baby. With his little hospital gown on and his IV’s sharing his small body. We just looked at each other and smiled. I gazed in his tired yet big and beautiful eyes and thought: “My poor baby. We have a long road ahead of us.”