We are on a journey that we didn't expect at all. As the song says, "we are all just one phone call from our knees." Two weeks ago I got a call as I was driving down 280 returning from my uncle's funeral that I needed to meet some incredibly compassionate wonderful people in the ER. They had my oldest and were taking him there. He had been playing varsity basketball and taken an elbow to the forehead and consequently the floor to the back of his head. We spent that night in the hospital. The nurses on PEDS could not have been more fabulous. He was very out of it. He knew I belonged to him but could not tell you my first name. He did not recognize his coach. He did not recognize my mom.
He's had a headache pretty much ever since. We've been to UAB to a neuropsychologist and to the pediatrician here. Everyone says "this is a journey". Everyone says "no one knows how long it is going to take."
He still has headaches. He still has confusion. He doesn't talk a whole lot. He's trying to go to school but so far two classes is the maximum he can do.
This is really hard. Harder than I thought it would be. Harder truthfully than I want it to be.
I want my boy back. I want his imitations of people and mimicking of characters. I want him teasing his brothers and sisters. I want him to ask "What's for (breakfast, lunch, dinner)?" as soon as the previous meal is over. I want him to be able to drive. I want him to complain about homework. I want to tell him to get off the computer. I want to tell him to go to bed.
But we have to wait. And somehow wait some more.
God knows how long. God did not doze off on us. He did not accidently look away. He was not texting and not paying attention at the time. He knew. As Max Lucado says "He authors all itineraries. He knows what is best. No struggle will come your way apart from his purpose, presence, and permission."
Such comforting words in this season...on this journey.