Maybe there was something to that learned behavior theory after all, or maybe he really did just happen to catch the flu while in the hospital. After all, hospitals are loaded with germs, so who knows? It could be just that simple, and actually wouldn't it be great if that really was all it was? The flu goes away in a few days. By then he will be feeling better, and he will have forgotten how bad eating used to be for him. Maybe this is a good thing after all.
Patience has never been my long suit. I thought maybe God was trying to teach me patience. Then I felt horrible because I felt that I was being taught a lesson in patience at Christopher's expense. When you are stuck inside a hospital room for days on end you have a lot of time to think, too much time. I often found myself filled with doubt and self blame. You just feel so lost, so desperate. I felt like I didn't have control of anything. I couldn't help my child get better, and I had a lot of guilt about my other two sons. I knew they needed me too, but Christopher's situation was always an emergency. I felt very torn. I had always wanted to be a mother, but now I felt like the worst mother ever. I couldn't help any of my children.
As for being a good wife, my husband and I were living under separate roofs. He was at home trying to hold down the home front, while I was stuck in the hospital. trying to keep from going completely crazy. I missed him. I missed "us." I missed the little things like laughing together, eating together, and talking about our day. Now we hardly saw each other at all, and when we did the discussion was always centered around Christopher's situation and logistics. What is the plan for the other boys? Who will watch them? Did you pay the electric bill? Did the cable company show up to fix the TV?That's the thing. Life doesn't just stop when you have a sick child. Things still have to get done. There are other kids to care for. Bills still need to be paid, but I couldn't be home to take care of any of it. I had to depend on other people. I was VERY grateful for all the help, but I just really wished that I didn't need it at all. I wanted to be able to manage things on my own.
Sometimes I would look out the window of Christopher's hospital room, and I would see people "doing life", and I would feel so jealous. I would see people coming and going. I knew the questions on their minds must be about the fastest way to get to work, or what to make for dinner, or whether or not the kids have a soccer game. I, on the other hand, felt stuck. I had to depend on other people to take care of the most basic things in life.
The nights were the worst. The best word I can think to describe them is lonely. The hospital is a buzz of activity during the day, but overnight it's a pretty quiet place. There is a bare bones staff at night, and all the visitors have gone home. It was just Christopher and I, and at the tender age of 2 months he wasn't much of a conversationalist. That left just me all alone reading a book, talking to the nurses, and trying to catch a quick nap or two. Christopher was often sick at night and didn't sleep much. Therefore, I didn't sleep much either, and after a few nights of that I felt sick too.I felt sorry for myself. Then I would feel guilty for feeling sorry for myself. How could I possibly be so selfish? Christopher was the one who was sick. He was the one who was really suffering. I needed to just stop it! I needed to concentrate on him and not myself. This must be what it feels like to go crazy. My mind felt like it was going around in circles.
If you have never accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, you can pray like this:
More tomorrow...
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