I Ask Myself, "What Am I Doing Here?"....

On this date seven years ago it was hot surprisingly, I am not sure where we were exactly but it was definitely a lot closer to the equator than where we came from. The smell of salt water was amazing! It makes you feel fresh and alive. It scrubs your lungs a little. We cruised in a large group: I with Carmelo, Manny and Tony, Nando and Denise, and Jason shared a room with Tita. He was such a good kid. Loving the sub zero temp of the salt water pool and going along with anything and everything we wanted with little to no resistance. He let me take this picture of him, with fake moustache and flamboyant hat just before we hit the Mexican coastline.

He loved breakfast buffet because the bacon was endless. He loves bacon, egg and cheese to this day. I remember watching him eat and thinking a good mother would say something about the ridiculous portion of bacon he gave himself. But he has always been thin and I love him so I thought I Would let it slide for now and try and basic food group him next meal. The day was perfect, and I remember thinking how lucky a kid Jason was being pulled out of school for a cruise vacation. Jason has known what I never did, a vacation for me as a child was going down the block to sleep over grandma's house. But look at Jason, cruising the Caribbean and the Mexican coastline!  I had a mimosa, the frothy sweat from the glass masked the color of my drink until I wiped it away and eventually the moisture beaded off...

Like the beading sweat on his eyebrow right now. The storming in full effect. Heart rate, blood pressure, respiration rate and temperature all up and climbing. It's viva Las Vegas again. His tracheostomy has been downgraded to a trach-collar. I should be happy about this. I am not. But I am told I should be. Jason is breathing on his own with just a constant flow of humidified oxygen blowing toward him. Every breath his own. We are being moved to the main floor today. Everyone is afraid of me today. I can see it in the bashful way they approach me to tell me about the move. They don't look me in the eye and tell me "how good" this is for him. I guess I am supposed to react a particular way about this. But I haven't. I am uncomfortable about the move. I am tired of the uncertainty and change but that is the thing about this disease: it has taken me completely out of my comfort zone. 

He is sedated again, compromised immune system and complications and all and we are going to the germy floor.

What am I doing here?