I was talking to someone who has lived through what we have with Dolly, but with her own son, over the past month. Her inpatient stay was even longer. Her initial road was even tougher. As silly as it sounds, we both think we have a little PTSD from our Cardiac ICU experiences.
I came out of the CICU with Dolly much the way I came out of Ghana with the Duo. Our adoption had been one dodged bullet after another. I feel much the same way about Dolly’s recent hospitalization. Getting out brought on this huge euphoric feeling. I think the high of that can only last so long before you come crashing back to reality. My friend and I agreed that the highs of a child with heart disease are just too high, and the lows are just too low.
I hit rock bottom when we had been home about a week. I’m grumpy with the other kids. I hate going to work, which is usually not the case, and all I want to do is be home with Dolly. Then, I resent the fact that all I ever am is…home with Dolly. It’s a no win situation for everyone around me.
Time to make a change.
Instead of going to the doctor and asking for drugs, although that thought did cross my mind as I was putting the pulse ox on Dolly’s tiny toe for the fourth time one day, I decided I needed back on the treadmill. I hadn’t run since prior to Dolly going into the hospital. So, I strapped on my running shoes and put in three miles.
It was me time. I intend to do it again tonight.
I think I need a local race to focus on now though, something no longer than a 5K. Something that holds some meaning in my life. I’ll let you know when I find it.
who feels a little more like me already.