Semblance of routine

We brought Ben home on Wednesday. He is doing well. Eating, eating, sleeping, eating, eating, walking, talking, eating, playing drums, eating, sleeping. Well, you get the picture. I think he's trying to re-gain his 20 pounds in one week! Today Kim said he wanted to help work in the yard, but grandpa convinced him to take a walk instead, after which he was so tired he slept the rest of the afternoon!

On Wednesday evening Lydia complained of not feeling well. On Thursday morning she still didn't feel well, complaining of pain in her stomach. She was so pathetic, crying and moaning, "Daddy, it hurts" over and over. So, instead of my first day back to the office in quite a while, off to the doctor we went. Our regular doc wasn't in, but Dr. DiMarco was wonderful with Lydia. The short story is that Lydia seems to be carrying the stress of her brother's health crisis around with her in her stomach. Official diagnosis gastritis.

The longer story is that I hope Lydia doesn't need serious medical attention any time soon. First was the trauma of the throat swab to check for strep. Then followed the suggestion of taking blood, which simply provoked a series of shrieks and cries. Since there was some concern about possible appendicitis, a CT scan was in order. Since her belly hurt she wouldn't drink the contrast, so they had to use an i.v. More shrieks and cries, but eventual concession. I know this is scary stuff for a nine-year-old; it's just so different from Ben who would simply hold out his arm.

At the conclusion of the CT I suggested that the i.v. line remain in so that the doc could get her blood from it. They agreed, which then led to a great adventure since none of the medical equipment was compatible. The tech in radiology finally came through with a strategy, and they were able to draw blood without having to stick Lydia again. Again, the good news was that there were no major issues found.

From a dad's standpoint, I must say that it took all I could muster to remain compassionate and patient with the prospect of yet more medical tests and issues with our kids. I think I did OK, but it took a lot of conscious effort, simply because I'm so tired of hospitals, doctors, and my kids hurting.

The other thing that Lydia not feeling well reminds me is that even though Ben's out of the hospital, he still has a long way to go, as do the rest of us. Lydia and Noah have experienced this trauma just like the rest of us, and will continue to recover along with Ben. Thankfully grandparents have been around to help them through it. Same with Kim and me; it'll take some time to recover from all this stress.

"Normal" still feels like it's a long way off. Once again I'm on the road for some work-related meetings, which is a taste of normal, but it's still engulfed by this last month and a half of focus on Ben. We continue to rely on the strength of God through Jesus, and the beautiful family and community of faith that has sustained us thus far.