Wednesday, March 20, 2013


When I was pregnant with the girl, things got pretty rough. I carried her high. Very, very high. So high that she kicked my rib and cracked it... in my seventh month. She was up so high that it got hard to breathe. My diaphragm was smushed and I couldn't take a deep breath for three months. They gave me breathing treatments and all sorts of stuff to try to help me oxygenate... nothing.

When they finally took her out... you have to remember, I'd been oxygen deprived for months... they pulled her out and my diaphragm dropped. I took my first deep breath in forever, and my head was reeling with the abundance of oxygen. The feeling was so overwhelming... I forgot why I was there. I completely lost track of where I was and why I was there. I was just dizzy with oxygen.

So when they stuck this pink, cheesy, angry, screaming thing over the blue curtain, my first thought was utter confusion. What the heck? I recovered quickly (thanks to all the oxygen now circulating my brain) and decided that the pink, cheesy, angry, screaming thing was a keeper. But I will always remember that euphoric rush that comes from ending air deprivation.

Not many people understand that experience. So far, I've met none. Until today.

Today, I was privileged to watch my son experience air euphoria.

With his "monster adenoids" yoinked from his head, there's so much more room in his passages for air. I watched him realize it when he ate something after his surgery. For the first time, after four and a half long years of trying to chew with his mouth closed, the boy succeeded. And there was much rejoicing.

In the past, he's not been able to breathe through his nose. At all. But all that changed today. His face was filled with wonder as he finally understood how everyone else has been able to eat and breathe at the same time. My poor little man. I wonder what else he'll experience from today's surgical adventure.

No comments:

Post a Comment