Denial. I think I skipped denial for the most part. If I went through denial at all I think it might have been when I was too shocked to feel/think anything. For the most part I've been pretty realistic about this whole situation. The second they told me they still didn't have him back when I showed up in the ED I knew. I knew the repercussions of that. I see this everyday at work. Perhaps the only denial I had was before they let me see him. Maybe I tried to convince myself they had someone else's kid behind that curtain. Once I saw him the denial was pretty much gone. After that it was all shock and having to remind myself that this was really happening, but I didn't struggle with that a whole lot.
Anger. This one I think I deal with daily. It didn't start till much later after the event, but it's one of my most common feelings. I have no one to be mad at. No one did this to him. I took him to the cardiologist. I had him checked out. Everyone did everything they were supposed to do. There isn't anyone to be mad at. But I am mad. I'm mad this happened to him. I'm mad that my 6 year old son has been put through hell and back. He does not deserve this. He was one of the most loving and caring people I have ever met. Even when I was having to discipline him he adored me and loved me unconditionally. He is so innocent. Why should something like this happen to him? There are plenty of terrible people in the world that this could have happened to, but no... it happened to him. It's not fair. I wanted so much for his life. He deserves a normal, happy life. Not one with constant struggles which is what this has turned into.
Bargaining. This one started pretty quickly. I immediately started praying to (bargaining with) God in the ED. I can't remember the actual words I used but I remember doing it. I remember begging. I remember screaming. I remember crying. Anything... anything to save my little boy. Then came the other part of bargaining... the shoulda, coulda, wouldas... I have struggled with this one day in and day out. I should have known. I should have pushed. I took him to the cardiologist to prevent this. There were abnormalities in his tests, but nothing that set off red flags... I should have pushed for further testing. I should have known they did cardiac MRIs. I should have... I could have done more. I keep having to remind myself that hardly anyone knows they do cardiac MRIs... I can't beat myself up over not knowing they existed. I still should have pushed for further testing after the abnormalities. I also know, and it's hard to admit, but I continuously beg for more. I begged for him to live. Then to wake up. Then to still be Todd. Now, I'm begging that he eats and walks again. I just want more. Not for myself (maybe a little bit) but for him. HE deserves to get better. HE deserves to walk again. HE deserves to have fun and run around again.
Depression. I know this started during the neuro storms. There was nothing I could do. Nothing anyone could do. I was helpless. What kind of life was this for him? I begged for him to be saved, but for what? He's going to have a miserable life. I begged for his life and consequently caused him more suffering. What have I done? I went through a few days and I still go through spurts of not wanting to talk to anyone, withdrawing, not saying a whole lot. This can be very isolating. People try to find the words to say and all they do is make it worse. No one understands what you are going through. The only people that have a clue are the ones that have had children with brain injuries to this extent. It's not a very large group of people and none that I knew before this happened. I've been fortunate that others through support groups have reached out to me and told me their stories. Stories that were almost identical to Todd's. It's impossible to understand what I am going through if you have not been in my shoes. People try to compare their problems with their children etc.... it's different. It's not any better or any worse. Just different. When people try to relate or try to tell me to just be grateful that he's here it causes a downward spiral into a further depression. Not only have I beat myself up over everything else, but WOW now I feel guilty for not solely being grateful that he's still alive. Is it wrong of me to want more for him? Is it wrong that I want the best?
Acceptance. I have accepted that he is going to need a lot of care. I've accepted that his life is going to be much harder than originally planned. I have accepted his conditions and their implications. That doesn't mean though that we are going to be stagnant. I've accepted the difficulties and plan on fighting for him well passed this. He's going to progress and I'm going to do everything I can to make that happen. Acceptance isn't giving up and just accepting that this state I see him in is permanent. This is the new norm. This is another hurdle life has thrown at us that we have to adapt to. I accept that. Yes, I still go through all the other stages sometimes, but I have accepted this new life we will have... and I've chosen to embrace it.
(these were yesterday before the G tube surgery)
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