Torn

I have purposely avoided blogging the past few days because I refuse to be depressing. Who wants to read a blog that leaves you feeling down?
Basically, my expectations for post-brain surgery were completely unrealistic and naive. It's going to be awhile before I get my Keith back. The surgeons had to remove part of the brain matter to get to the tumor, which throws off his coordination and balance temporarily. (We knew this would be the case.) Thankfully, his brain will learn to compensate, eventually. Isn't the human body amazing?

I've decided that the absolute worst experience in the world is watching your child suffer pain. When his distress has been at it's worst, the only way I've been able to cope is to imagine what physical torment I would rather endure than watch his current torture. I've come up with some pretty harrowing scenarios, including sawing off my appendages with a plastic knife and allowing a rat pack to gnaw off my face. I hope you are laughing because that is seriously the sickening way in which I am dealing. I would rather suffer any amount of physical pain myself than powerlessly watch him wince and have him wonder why I'm not doing anything to help. He doesn't understand that the pain is temporary or that it is for his good eventually. I just hope and pray that my presence alone is giving him some source of comfort.
OK. I know. I promised I wouldn't be depressing, so I'm going to share some good news. Keith sat upright with me in his bed so we could read stories. Physical therapists showed us some exercises to work with him on each day so he can regain some strength and coordination and I felt so grateful to sit with him and do something he really loves doing. He was the most animated he's been since before surgery. It was great!
He also started protesting again when anyone wearing scrubs or a badge walks through the door. I love to see a little fight back in him!
We took him for a little wagon ride around the floor today with Cole and Ally. Ally is a little out of sorts so it ended rather abruptly, but it was good to get Keith out of his room for awhile. Cole is struggling. He just keeps repeating, "I don't feel very good." And if you ask him what hurts he says, "My feelings." Poor kid. He has temporarily lost his best buddy. We all have. But we'll get him back.
There are going to be good days and rough days. That's just the nature of this whole experience. I really am trying to be optimistic even though I think I just depressed myself putting some of this into words. Trust me, I spared you the worst stuff. I learned my lesson last time.
I guess I'm just trying to be real. I don't want everyone out there to think I'm tough as nails and I'm just keeping it all together perfectly, because I'm not. I have a huge support system and the strength of the Spirit and that's the only way I'm making it. It's Keith that I ache for. I would do anything to help him better understand his situation and anything to relieve his pain.
Another piece that weighs on me today is knowing that we are going to start all over again next week. Keith's second tumor removal surgery is scheduled for next Wednesday morning. We will relive this recovery process again very soon. I know it is a blessing that we have another shot at removing the tumor. I keep reminding myself of that and it helps keep each of these days in perspective.
For now, it's off to bed with Cole. Brent and I swap every other night: one night at the hospital helping Keith and the next night snuggling in our bed with Cole.
One night at a time.