Coming back from Rainbow Garage -- Rebuilding R

How do we reconcile what happens now? Depression takes hold and why wouldn't it? Plans for the future . . . gone, or at least put on hold--indefinitely. Caravan and traveling the blue highways? Retiring to our property? Where do we go from here? R will be with us for the rest of our lives, quite literally. We have to take care of him, make sure he's safe, make sure he's healthy.  Best laid plans, eh? I see others having fun, enjoying freedom, vanity vacations, etc. Is it worth it? You damned right it is !!! I am grateful to have our child alive and thriving (hopefully).  It's just a strange sensation, to think of things in pre/post, before/after mentality. Can I call it BG and AG, before-garage and after-garage respectively? Facebook is kinda sad for me now. I look at my Vegan Friends group hanging out and know that's not a part of my life any longer. I had just started getting to know them too.  But there are some good tradeoffs as well. Having A home is sure nice....

The whole thing appears surreal to me, indeed to my whole immediate family.  I couldn't write about it then as I was too emotionally vested. Even now, I'm afraid to write about it, afraid to relive it. But I must. Not just for myself, but for anyone else out there who needs the help, the support, or the realization that they're not alone. I can't help but think back to one of my favorite books in Middle School, The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton. It's great for sure, but that's not why I can't help but recall it in this instance. (Spoiler alert) It's because the protagonist, Ponyboy Curtis, right after living his tale, now must sit down and put it down from memory . It's the first and last sentence of the novel. Classic! That's where I am now. Trying hard to remember all the events that led to our current situation. Granted, he's a fictional character, but inspirational nonetheless.  Tuesday, December 19, 2023 Recollect the details, ready to write ...

Know what you're in for if it happens to you :-( Again, here preside the perils of NOT journaling daily . I blame my circumstance and suffered the circumstantial downtime. But I lived in my mind, which raced all the time, trying to process what the heck happened. To say we camped out at the hospital room would be an understatement. We lived, ate, slept and other stuff there. Both of us never wanted to leave R's side during recovery. Plus , we wanted to help coordinate his care. Sure, babysitters kept an eye on him 24 hours a day, in 12 hour shifts, but he wasn't their kid. We worked the schedule to not leave each other alone. The only other person who knew exactly how I felt, was my wife. The ICU recovery room was tiny. I remember waiting in that room the day after. One of his nurses led us straight to his room to wait after his next urgent surgery. We coveted the lounge chair in the room. I remember some of the great nurses who helped not just R, but all of us. In partic...

Soooo much happened during the stay. I wish I'd journaled back then, but, in all authenticity, I was doing my best to keep it together. Did a lot of reading, surviving really. And tried to be there for R and A.  Jan 2nd ICU The EMTs told us to go to the main hospital. I drove 'cause A was a mess and could not stop crying. On the way, she managed to call our other kiddos who promised to meet us there. We stood in line at the ER, trying our best to wait our turn. Everyone had an issue, been there before, but this time was different.  The check-in person (triage) found out R's location and took us aside where a social worker took over.  He took us to a private sitting room where we could collect ourselves. If he asked us any pertinent questions, I cannot remember. Then, the peer counselor called. R, after all, had only been out less than 4 hours. When we told him where we were and what happened, he exclaimed "WHAT?"  Then, our other adult children arrived by Uber an...