Day 608

Both boys were healthy and ready to go to school this morning. Mike was out the door before the sun rose. I, however, woke up with Benjamin’s cold. I got the kids off to school safely, texted Benji’s teacher to fill her in on the platelet and steroid situation, and promptly returned to bed.

By lunchtime I felt physically better, but my body still feels exhausted. I can only imagine how Benjamin feels. I don’t understand how he does what he does, consistently, with such strength.

I used the time at home to catch up on some research and correspondence regarding Benjamin’s care. I emailed Dr. Oshrine and brought him up to speed on the events of the last few days. I scheduled Benjamin’s brain MRI for mid-September. I emailed the naturopath we are meeting in October with Benjamin’s complete history, medication list, and genetic information.

While I was stuck in the car line to pick Benjamin up, I got a call from Banyan’s school. It was the clinic. My heart jumped into my throat, but only for a moment. Calm took over. Surely we would handle whatever this was. Turns out he’d gashed his leg during gym class. I was sandwiched between parents trying to pick up their kids in the rain, and Michael was at a meeting, so Gana picked up Banyan for me and brought him home. He sustained a pretty significant flesh wound but it didn’t need stitches. Thank goodness. One trip to the emergency room in a week is plenty.

Michael came home relatively early and we enjoyed the tropical storm display outside our safe windows. Benji practiced a bit of guitar, Banyan nursed his sore leg with some video games, and I made a batch of chili, which Benjamin refused to eat. (Thanks, steroids.)

This steroid pulse is in full swing, with hunger and food sensitivities, impulsive behavior, red hot puffy cheeks, and so much sweating. Bedtime was a little rough. Benji’s tummy hurt really badly. I gave him Zantac. I think the Prednisone is responsible. I hope that’s all it is; stomach pain makes me nervous now. Banyan’s leg injury hurt too, and he couldn’t get comfortable. Both boys were in pain and I just wanted to make pain go away. I feel so much pressure to fix this that sometimes I feel like I’m going to combust. I know that’s ridiculous, and I need to let it go. My ability to live in the moment and to stay calm is also completely related to sleep, of which I’ve had precious little this week. In the morning, with the heavy, cleansing rain, we will all feel refreshed and renewed.