Buffalo Wings & Fries

"...Where no one feels anyone else's pain, Sleep like a baby tonight, in your dreams everything is alright, tomorrow dawns like its suicide, but you gonna sleep like a baby tonight..." -U2 Songs of Innocence

What a difference a day makes? Last night I was exhausted. When the ambulance came to pick up Jason from Columbia, I felt like Charlie Sheen at the end of Platoon when the chopper pulled away. I was battered and fucked up. I wanted out and didn't have the energy to rejoice. It was a bittersweet victory. Taking my son back to his rehab and feeling a sense of relief that he is there. He slept the whole way and even at the hospital. I straightened up his room and kissed him goodbye. Then took a cab back home without him. I never get used to that part. The panic attacks stopped. They were really bad when he was at Columbia, I don't know how Carmelo put up with me then. Now the sadness is just heavy because Jason is no where near ready for home. My chest aches. Sometimes it feels hollow, sometimes it feels heavy, sometimes it just actually hurts. (Insert calls to see a cardiologist here, yea I know. I'll schedule that with my much deserved nervous breakdown). When I got home I showered, kissed my babies and tried to eat for the first time all day. I was too scared to leave him on our last day so I didn't get food. Too afraid that red and black demon from insidious was hovering over his bed waiting to pounce and snatch out his G tube or let some crazy unexplainable shit happen that would only happen in the storyline of my life. So I didn't move. I stayed centurion the entire day and worried about the dust my kidneys cough out when I try to pee or the hollowed out area where my stomach once was at a later time. It worked. We made it. I was glad and sad. We tested him and he is not having seizures. I did what they said works-4rounds of chemo. Even if I had to pin him down for the last hour and pray to God to let this wave of illness pass and let us finish. It worked. He made it. Now we wait. We wait and see what happens because this is the medicine. This is what we do. Today Jason was calm, cooperative. He pulled out his Maldita GTube but he was not combative when it was time to put it back in. He ate with the therapist today and asked for an order of Buffalo wings and fries. He told the nurse to charge it to his debit card. Yesterday my diseased ravage son savagely tried to beat the shit out of me for 10 minutes as I held him down to get chemo therapy. Today the medicine I helped force into him is giving me my son, my real son, back.

What a fucking difference a day motherfucking makes.