Necessary Evils

There’s something so emptying about watching your child submit to anaesthetic, as though your own life force drains right out the bottom of your being while you watch his vivacious consciousness fade. Eyes droop, chubby legs reluctantly give up their feisty activity and drop to the mattress, busy fingers still, as though someone pressed pause. Though I’ve watched many an animal go through this, I could not stay in the room for Kaleb’s little operation. He was in and out in less than 30 minutes, letting the world know at top volume that he did not appreciate the sneak-attack. Even while he was trying to re-establish his equilibrium, I could not relax. He downed an entire bottle and had a 10 minute power snooze only to burst awake, look around and let loose his signature screech, in three short bursts to say Hullo to all who were there. Not until then could I let loose the breath my entire body had been holding.

These bone marrow tests and spinal taps will occur every round and are performed there every day. My brain knows the logic of this situation, and yet I cannot force my emotions to reason it out.

Back in on Friday. I'm eager to pass the mid-point. This round will be shorter, but stronger. I'm hopeful that our little man can continue to hold up so well.