Post BMT day 249
+249
I recently had a question, “What do Tate’s days look like?” So..I’ve tried to capture a day in pictures.
I‘ve struggled with my last post over the past few days. I didn’t convey what I wanted and instead it seemed I was sad about missing a trip. It felt entitled. And whiney. The trip would’ve had fun moments but in the current state would’ve been impossible to coordinate tpn and fluids and meds and antibiotics. Traveling through NY and the subway with a wheelchair is not what we envisioned when hoping for better months ago. And honestly, Tate would’ve slept most of it away in an over priced room. So instead, I share what I sent to a sweet friend. A better window to my heart.
“Ugh. I wish I could delete that post but it wouldn’t erase it. I feel like a whiner. I didn’t convey what I meant. It’s not the trip. That would have been amazing, yes, but a privilege and a blessing that MOST don’t experience. My point was only that I feel like it’s just been so many years of this disease stealing from us. And the desire for a break from reality is almost desperate. But honestly, I needed to stop and pause to realize what this journey has given us instead of what it’s stolen. It’s given us You. And our hospital friends who are now lifelong. And taught us to turn to family. And our nurse friends and so many others. And most importantly, we’ve been forced to examine our faith and rely entirely on God.”
It’s been a hard week for me. I think I’m processing a lot of what I haven’t. I can’t read old posts or see bald Tate without losing it. Memories come through photos which is really a huge part of why I post…as a record. But I don’t remember these days until I read about them. It all floods back and this time, it’s too much. I have no idea if this is healthy or normal or will get better or worse. I do know that every morning that I open my eyes and every night that I close them, whether at home or in the hospital, Tate is here. And I thank God for that.