Heartbreak

I really do love to write but you certainly couldn't tell it from this blog. Has it really been almost 3 years since I posted anything? I really have no excuses. Busyness, stress, laziness, all of the above?

So why pick it back up again now? Mostly a desire to record my emotions and thoughts about a recent event involving my daughter. Feel free to listen in if you wish.

For those reading this blog for the first time, Laurie is a special needs child. Although she is chronologically 37 years old, she operates on about a 2-4 year old mental level. She lives in an independent supported living home with two roommates and staff that cares for her 24/7. She comes home every Sunday and for a weekend once a month.

Recently, we discovered that her wisdom teeth on her right side needed to be pulled. Given her situation, everyone agreed that we would need to put her under anesthesia to accomplish this. Since her regular dentist was not able to do x-rays, cleanings or fix any problems during her regular dental visits, this seemed to be the perfect opportunity to coordinate all these procedures while she was under.

John and I brought Laurie home the night before and took her to the surgery center early the next morning. The staff was incredibly kind and understanding of her disabilities. They were able to get her under and even got an IV started without incident. About 30 minutes later, her dentist came out to tell us the x-rays revealed that the wisdom teeth on her left side were right under the surface and would require removal at some time in the near future. We all agreed doing it now would be the best. They were also going to fix a couple of small cavities while they were there.

Unfortunately, because the teeth on the left side were not through yet, they had to be cut out. When we were brought back to recovery to see her, she was a pitiful sight. Still sleepy, very swollen, and throwing up blood. We managed to get her to the car and John sat in the back with her, trying to follow her around with the bucket as she threw up. It was a wild ride home for all of us!

Once we got home, we needed to get some food down her so she could take her pain medication. She wasn't having anything to do with food and anything we did get down her, came right back up. My anxiety level was getting higher and higher. No food meant no meds which meant more pain for her. Then I began to get concerned about dehydration as she refused to drink anything either. Helplessness is not a fun feeling. By mid-afternoon, we finally got a small bit of food in her stomach and pain meds on board.

The next few days were a roller coaster ride. Pitiful is the only word I can use to describe my precious girl. Her usually millisecond hugs became long and clingy. She would sit next to me on the couch, tuck her head under my arm and try to curl up in my lap. Then she would perk up a bit, take some cautious bites of food and be attentive for a few hours, only to go back to being lethargic. She would not allow me to hold a cold compress on her face so her left side swelled more and more. It looked like she was holding a golf ball in her cheek.

The most difficult thing for me was not knowing what to do for her. Was I giving her enough pain meds? Was I giving her too much? What could I fix for her that she would eat? Did cold foods or hot foods feel better? Not being able to converse with her has never been so frustrating and heartbreaking. All I could do was be there to try to comfort her as best I could. At one point, I sat next to her bed, stroking her hair and talking to her. The look in her eyes was so haunting, I couldn't help but weep. It was the most emotional four days I have experienced in a very long time. Even though my heart wanted to keep her home, my head told me it was better for her to get back to her routine so we took her back to her house.

It has taken her about six weeks but she has finally returned to her kind of normal. Worry has been a constant temptation over these weeks. Leaving it in God's hands sounds great in theory but proved so hard to do in reality. However, looking back, I see the incredible memories I can hold on to forever. The times we sat together, hugged each other, looked each other in the eyes. These are rare in Laurie's everyday life and I can't help but believe these things were gifts from God to a mother who often longs for a more "normal" relationship with her daughter. God is good, all the time.