It would be a lie if I said I wasn't half hoping that something. Anything. Would happen to stop this from moving forward. I had already promised myself if something happened...that was it. No do overs. And I think in the deepest core of my heart I was hoping something would.
It would be a lie if I said I was okay. I am not. The threat of breakfast coming up right here right now...is very real. The screamer headache is also tell tale that I am not okay. Not right now. Not today. This is the single hardest day of my life to date. I don't anticipate the next month being any easier.
It would be a lie if I said I haven't been blaming myself. For so many various things. Not excluding that it took me a solid six months to work up the courage just to email Dr. Rockstar. To work up the courage to pursue surgery. How could I be such a coward? And let my little boy seize hundreds of times a day for a year? And watch the monster swallow him up little by little. Until we sit in a room with Dr. Neuro-Surgeon. Who looks me in the eye and says if we don't get control of these seizures now then Trevor will continue to slip developmentally downward. If I had just swallowed my fear this day would be long behind us.
It would be a lie if I said that I don't half hate everybody else in this waiting room right now. In fact, that dude snoring on the bench over there is first up on my bash over the head with my laptop list.
It would be a lie if I said my heart isn't ripping in half that I have had to let go of all three of my children. That I'm sitting here alone. Because Jonathan had to go check out of the hotel. Trevy is in surgery. And Toby and Bristel had to stay behind. But as much as I want them here. For very selfish...very unhealthy...reasons. It is not healthy for me to lean on them for comfort. The reality is...I am relieved that they are far far away from this place. Safe with Grams. Especially after we saw another little family come back in after saying goodbye to the little sister. And the big brother was a sobbing mess. Which reminded me of Toby. He's so sensitive soul. It's for the best. I just miss them so incredibly much.
It would be a lie if I said I am not scared to death to see him again. Like that. People keep asking if they can do anything. If we need anything. I keep responding...only a time machine.
Oh well. There is no turning back now. It is only forward from here. I'm not trying to be all depressing. I'm not so sure this unlimited internet access is really a good thing. But then I've heard journaling is therapeutic.
And so I spill my guts in cyber space. Because it's just a really really really heavy day. And I have to do something with all that swirling inside.