Arriving at the hospital and hearing that Alex was paralyzed was a shock and I was about to break. My husband, Chris, is my opposite. He holds it together initially, which makes us a perfect team because shit was about to become very real very fast.
When the surgeon came in, he was talking but I am still not sure what it was he said. Words like spinal bleed, stroke, hemorrhage were all said but I had trouble comprehending. I felt that tightness in my back suddenly and the look on Chris' face told me this was no joke and very real. Our child was laying on that gurney, hurting, in pain and there was not a damn thing I could do about it. "Daddy, can you make them take my pain away", I heard between clenched teeth but in a whisper. My heart dropped and my husbands face, oh how I hated to see the sadness on his face, but reality had shown up and it was not kind. A spinal decompression needed to be performed and it would take up to five hours. Alex was given medication that seemed to ease the pain in his arms and shoulders and we were on our way to surgery.
As the nurse wheeled Alex into pre-op, Jason, one of Alexs' closest friends showed up to sit with us. "Mom, can you play 'Dreams' for me?" His voice reawakened the mom in me when he was a little boy, sick and in need of comfort. Power Rangers movie was his fave and Van Halen became one of his favorite bands. I found the video on YouTube with the Blue Angel's and laid the phone next to his ear. Part of me at that moment knew some dreams were not to be now, part of me felt he was having so much just f***ING ripped away from him. I wanted to scream and punch anything but knew I had to make this better for him, some how, some way. He listened to that song, at least six times, until they came to take him to surgery and as they took my sweet boy through the double doors into surgery and I watched him being wheeled away from us, I placed my hands on my hips and hung my head and cried.
As we walked down the long hallway on the third floor heading to the surgical waiting room, the hospital was eerily quiet. No one was around and as I checked my phone, realized it was almost 2am. There was a TV in the corner playing an infomercial and magazines littered the tables. The chairs were hard and uncomfortable, but the smell was sterile and although it was 91 degrees outside, I was cold in that room. How many families had sat in this room just as we were doing right then, waiting for a loved one and praying the doctor would come through those doors and say all was OK. I can only imagine. As I sat in the chair, Chris sat next to me, eyes now bloodshot as they do when he is weary and worried, eyes a glassy green. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, one hand on my leg, almost for comfort. Being a truck driver and working in the oil fields for 15 years, he had learned to get sleep where he could and suddenly a soft snore was heard. Jason had made a spot in the corner with 2 chairs and had his feet up watching a video on his phone.
I had stood to walk around when I heard my phone buzzing with a text message. My friend, Terran, was up and wanted to know if we wanted food. I was suddenly aware that I was very hungry and said yes. I met her downstairs and the best thing she brought with her was a hug. The food took away the hunger but that hug gave me new strength. We chatted for a bit, said our goodbyes and she gave me one more comforting hug and walked back out into the warm July air.
As we ate the food, watching an infomercial, I became sleepy and when I woke, the sun was dawning. Dr. Serxer came in, sat down wth his leg crossed and delivered the news. Alex was paralyzed from the chest down from a spontaneous spinal bleed and why, well, that question may never be answered but this was just the beginning of a very long road. As I listened to his words, as I looked around at Chris and at Jason, all I wanted to do was get to my son.
When the surgeon came in, he was talking but I am still not sure what it was he said. Words like spinal bleed, stroke, hemorrhage were all said but I had trouble comprehending. I felt that tightness in my back suddenly and the look on Chris' face told me this was no joke and very real. Our child was laying on that gurney, hurting, in pain and there was not a damn thing I could do about it. "Daddy, can you make them take my pain away", I heard between clenched teeth but in a whisper. My heart dropped and my husbands face, oh how I hated to see the sadness on his face, but reality had shown up and it was not kind. A spinal decompression needed to be performed and it would take up to five hours. Alex was given medication that seemed to ease the pain in his arms and shoulders and we were on our way to surgery.
As the nurse wheeled Alex into pre-op, Jason, one of Alexs' closest friends showed up to sit with us. "Mom, can you play 'Dreams' for me?" His voice reawakened the mom in me when he was a little boy, sick and in need of comfort. Power Rangers movie was his fave and Van Halen became one of his favorite bands. I found the video on YouTube with the Blue Angel's and laid the phone next to his ear. Part of me at that moment knew some dreams were not to be now, part of me felt he was having so much just f***ING ripped away from him. I wanted to scream and punch anything but knew I had to make this better for him, some how, some way. He listened to that song, at least six times, until they came to take him to surgery and as they took my sweet boy through the double doors into surgery and I watched him being wheeled away from us, I placed my hands on my hips and hung my head and cried.
As we walked down the long hallway on the third floor heading to the surgical waiting room, the hospital was eerily quiet. No one was around and as I checked my phone, realized it was almost 2am. There was a TV in the corner playing an infomercial and magazines littered the tables. The chairs were hard and uncomfortable, but the smell was sterile and although it was 91 degrees outside, I was cold in that room. How many families had sat in this room just as we were doing right then, waiting for a loved one and praying the doctor would come through those doors and say all was OK. I can only imagine. As I sat in the chair, Chris sat next to me, eyes now bloodshot as they do when he is weary and worried, eyes a glassy green. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, one hand on my leg, almost for comfort. Being a truck driver and working in the oil fields for 15 years, he had learned to get sleep where he could and suddenly a soft snore was heard. Jason had made a spot in the corner with 2 chairs and had his feet up watching a video on his phone.
I had stood to walk around when I heard my phone buzzing with a text message. My friend, Terran, was up and wanted to know if we wanted food. I was suddenly aware that I was very hungry and said yes. I met her downstairs and the best thing she brought with her was a hug. The food took away the hunger but that hug gave me new strength. We chatted for a bit, said our goodbyes and she gave me one more comforting hug and walked back out into the warm July air.
As we ate the food, watching an infomercial, I became sleepy and when I woke, the sun was dawning. Dr. Serxer came in, sat down wth his leg crossed and delivered the news. Alex was paralyzed from the chest down from a spontaneous spinal bleed and why, well, that question may never be answered but this was just the beginning of a very long road. As I listened to his words, as I looked around at Chris and at Jason, all I wanted to do was get to my son.