So many of you have flooded me with suggestions and encouragement and I have all of those locked away in my mental piggy bank and saved notes that I pull from when I need some MOJO in my step and a refuel in my tank.
Our “shot” time is becoming more of a routine…. I get Brodie situated (I cannot ice his leg because the anticipation as soon as he feels it turns into screams) I sterilize my hands, I wipe him with an alcohol wipe and there, right then, cries and screams unleash and he starts wiggling like a greased little piggy… all in anticipation of what is coming.
Meanwhile I am trying to laser focus in between bruising and hard spots on his leg - to find that one perfect spot that is not inundated with purple, blue, green, pink and reds – probably what a lot of Easter Eggs look like, but sigh unfortunately this is his little leg…
The bruising is all “normal” - It happens when you administer this medication - but that doesn’t make it any easier looking at your 10 month old child whose thunder thighs and chunk a lunk jelly should be so delicious to look at and lust about how amazing it is to be a child and flaunt it if you got those rolls (especially after my battles lost with the Chocolate filled peanut butter eggs this weekend) …
And then finally when I have him pinned down and his face is red and hot from frustration, I am usually “Mama sweating” and finding my focus, I quickly insert the needle, administer the medicine, grab gauze to press on the injection site and call for “Dr. Harper” (she is still my pharmacist most days as well) pretend play at its finest.
She flies over and goes to administer the bandaid - with accuracy of an obsessive-compulsive-four year old-habitual bandaid user with exact precision - she puts the band-aid on in less than 10 seconds.
We get Brodie up as quickly as we can.
Cries dwindle to moans.
We wipe crocodile tears away, calm him down and he is on to the Next. Best. Thing.
Then repeat 12 hours later. And again... and again... and again...
I needed yesterday. We got to bring Brodie to church. We got to go to church as a family for the first time since transplant. We have been avoiding church for B-Man just simply for the germs and cold and flu season.
yesterday helped remind me that in our darkest moments, in our times when we are torn internally from mental anxiety, when we are confused, lost, scared, tired or just need guidance – we need to remember if you choose you can be guided with love, wisdom, and by faith - there is something greater than ourselves and if we can muster up enough courage and allow ourselves to be vulnerable and lift up our worries and concerns we can be led to peace.
I cannot help myself but to think of the resounding synchronicity of the journey of Jesus and his resurrection on Easter day and also Brodie’s journey and fateful transplant on 10/19/16 both signifying new life, new beginnings and both lead to inspire and help others understand faith and many other things. (obviously they are two totally different scenarios but just keeping it simple as simple could be)
That is when I found myself thinking I must have FAITH that this medication is worth it. it WILL work. Every crocodile tear that I wipe away could be a teency weency reduction in that clot.
And HOPE that this bruising that is decorating Brodie’s thighs is temporary proof of the battle that our little warrior is dominating.
And to remind me that a Mother’s LOVE paired with Good Vibes and intentions is the best medicine Bro-meister can have.
So as I sit here waiting for them to call my name to go see how "Our Villain" in the plot of this Liver Tale is doing....
I remind myself of hope, faith, positivity, good vibes and our tribe everything that is gotten us this far.
I pray that our superhero little Brodie will defeat this blood clot and this will just be one more battle on his journey.
So remind yourselves on your daily journeys and life struggles that when you begin with believing and walk hand in hand with faith hope is born and can illuminate the way - even if it is just your next step...