How did we get here? Again!?!?! I am frantic. I am fragile. I am frightened beyond words.
The steroids aren't working to improve Ty's weakness because we aren't dealing with just swelling in the brain. That would have been better. More treatable. Ty is suffering from radiation necrosis (healthy tissue in his brain is dying as a result of the radiation that he received a year ago). It is very, very serious. It is an unstoppable beast and we don't know when the destruction will end. Ty is being beat up before my eyes, only the blows and the bruises are all happening on the inside and I am stuck handcuffed to the sidelines... useless.
LEAVE MY BABY ALONE!!! DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT I WILL DO FOR HIM? It doesn't matter how fierce I am in this fight. There's nothing I can do. Can you imagine how that feels? I always thought there's nothing more powerful than a mother's love, but Ty's chronic illness continues to remind me that I can do nothing but watch him suffer and pray with vigor.
I am thankful for the power of prayer and how it often brings me peace, but right now I feel the complete opposite. I want to scream. I want to RIP my hair out. I want to fall to the floor and pound on the tiles. Worse, I want to throw myself out the window - straight through the glass and onto the pavement - it would hurt so much less. I would love to feel some real, physical pain. I want it so much. That way, I can focus on something more palpable than the emotional torture of living here in hell.
I hate this place. This disgusting hospital where the grimy walls are closing in on me. With the beeping and the alarms and the casual attitude of the nurses. My disrespectful roomates and their stupid-a$$ ringtones at midnight. I guess I shouldn't direct my anger at these people, I know he is getting excellent care, I am just mad that I am here. That Ty is here. Again. I can't seem to control myself from bouncing between anger, fear and pure madness. I am losing my mind. I am totally deflated. I am broken.
Sometimes, though, when I am rolling in and out of sanity, I become overcome with serenity. I embrace those moments and in the calm I remember that I have been here before. Oh so many times. That there is still a wealth of uncertainty ahead and I need to hold onto that uncertainty because it fuels my undying hope.
And it is always better to hope than to despair.