This past weekend I made Bibi a bagel with cream cheese. Today she got me one. The heartbroken fatigued parents squad that take care of each other here in full effect.
There was a day that Jason was home and he played video games and watched Netflix. There was a day he got dressed up and went out. There was a day I slept in my own bed secure in the knowledge that all my kids were healthy, safe and sound asleep in their own beds.
Every day before I open my eyes, religiously, I whisper to God to allow me to wake up back in one of those days.
But I don't. Those days are long gone, and I don't know when they will comeback again.
Jason was maniacal last night. The encephalitis running through him like a puppeteer. Creating behaviors that are just not Jason. He's 5'10 and 140lbs and acting psychotic because his brain is swollen. It doesn't excuse the behaviors it is just the reason. What he does is hard to forget, accept and look past sometimes. I know because I am his mother and I live through them all.
I am moving back into his hospital to police him. I am packing my clothes and breaking night from now on to make sure there is no crazy night like last night. Where other families had added upset put upon them as they cared for their sick children. It's my fault. I skipped a few daily meetings. I have been busy trying to reassemble my life and in my mind I thought no news was good news.it wasn't. It never is.
When I am there he is better. Because I don't fear Jason. I am his mom. It's a hard job but I am still his mom no matter what. I'm mom to this split, sick psychotic Jason and love him just as much as my Jason. I pray this medication works. I pray that a week of figuring out my way to work from the hospital and back everyday doesn't drain my pockets dry and works out in thee grand scheme of his illness.
At this point that is all I have. All I have is that I can pray. I can pray real real hard that this shit finally goes my way.
Right now in this minute, I am just not okay.
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