Day 2

Well....it's getting hard.
He looks terrible. And not only does he look horrible. He feels tons worse than words can type. A morphine drip has started. His mouth and body is doing what it knows to do. Shut down and heal. It's hard to fathom just how sick a person can become during this process. It's hard to believe it. Yesterday was a hard one. One that I can admit, I finally caved. I left here early because I emotionally was drained. His counts are wiped clean. His demeanor is mean and un-spirited. He wants me, but he doesn't. He needs someone here, and yet he at times probably doesn't want it. Or maybe just me.
I cried as I left his room and couldn't help but cry all the way down every fucking hallway and all the way down in the elevator. And I didn't care to make eye contact with anyone. I'm tired. I'm tired of seeing my son hooked up. Fighting to live through this. I'm tired of asking questions and probing for positive answers. I'm tired. He asked me why I didn't explain to him about another med they added, in which I did. He doesn't remember, and yet his anger is directed at the person in this world that you love, and she loves the most. Mom. I'm not backing down, I just backed up. For a moment in time. A breather if you will.

This morning Kali left at 5:30am back to CSUSM. She has sorority stuff all weekend. I woke at 5, made her the yogurt bowl she loved, packed any and every grocery I could to get her by this weekend, as I know her cupboards are bare at home.  We hugged tight, and I prayed as I watched her little car scoot off into the cold Friday morning distance. Always waving one more time before losing sight.

I went to work. Brought Bucksie with me to get that little dude out of the house. I cleared my desk, jammed through work half ass because my heart wants to be here. Our friend Scotty came to sit with him this morning. A good friend that sees him through good and bad.
When I arrived today he's now full of 7 different bags filtering into him. A morphine drip next to his head. Something he fought hard to avoid because he didn't want the side effects and withdraw later.
At this point his face is swollen. There's a suction tube lying next to him. He's laying under his favorite blankies. He's fighting. My first sight of him today made my stomach flip.
This is hard.

Today, I ask that you pray. Pray hard. Pray that his new stems are finding their place in his body.
If you don't pray, please take a moment to send positive vibes. To send him peace in a new body that needs to climb the rest of Mt. Transplant.

Have a great weekend. Be thankful for good health. Forgive those that you can forgive. Let little things go. Families are forever, and sickness sure brings it all together.

Much love, from a worried tired mama..
This Warrior Mama Lisa

Counts-
WBC 0.1
Hgb 10.2
Platelets 41
Cr. 0.58

Ps. Kris someday when you can read this. Just know, I am proud of you. I am so so proud of you.
Pull through dude...for mama and for all of us...