Funny that I just mentioned lighthouses in my prior post about the Coast Guard.
My brain is really fuzzy today so I probably won’t make a lot of sense. Last night was probably the worst sleep I’ve had in a long time. I was starting to doze off after Ben’s platelet transfusion when the nurses came in to do the nasal wash. It was a completely unpleasant experience – mostly for Ben – but I have to admit that I was not fond of holding Ben’s arms and legs down with all the strength that I had while the nurses shot water up his nose and tried to suction out boogers. Hearing those cries again, his pleas for us to stop torturing him, well, I’m going to need some therapy.
Once I did fall asleep it was fitful. I kept waking up with visions of bloody noses and having a carton of broken eggs at Target. I have an explanation for the bloody noses dream, but am completely curious about the broken eggs at Target. And there was only one checkout line. And it was self-service. There were no employees to help with my broken eggs. Plenty of people milling about in the traditional Red Shirted Target Uniforms, but absolutely no assistance. And a line of vicious customers yelling at me to hurry up. They didn’t care about my broken eggs. Nobody cared.
I could use a lighthouse about now. Something to shine a beacon of light to guide me through all this mess. Lead me home. Bring me safely into the harbor. Help me avoid the angry rocks that are trying to break through my hull and drown me. I’m sinking. Where’s my lighthouse? Spiritually, I’m completely lost. And I’m afraid I’m not going to find my way back.
The only attribute of a lighthouse I have right now is the horrendous sound I make when I blow my nose in the morning. It could rival any foghorn out there. For being a fairly small person I can make a tremendous sound with just my nose. It’s quite embarrassing actually. And now that we’re back in the hospital setting with no privacy, well, the entire floor can hear my foghorn in the morning. Calling out to them. “EEEEEEEE-OOOGH” But I have nothing to offer my fellow parents living this nightmare with me. No guidance. No support. No answers. Helpless in all aspects. Sinking. Flailing. Pasting on our smiles for our children to guide them through but being empty inside.
I guess that’s something. I can be a lighthouse for Ben. But I think I need a new light bulb. My foghorn, however, is in tip-top shape.
More tomorrow. 🙂