| This week has helped realize, one more time, that I am a human. A broken one at that. There is a line in a song that I've often used with other people. I like the line. Really I do. But at the same time, I do not like it applied to me. |  |
Feelin' pain's a hard way to know you're still alive
Yeah.
It's a reminder to me that things could be worse.
This week I've seen my brilliant and beautiful daughter collapsing on her own legs, "zoning out" and becoming responsive, numbness of the extremities, and more. Finally finding a place in the hospital, we ran the gauntlet of tests and still have no definite answers to what causes it or how to fix it.
Theories, but no answers.
After multiple EKGs, being observed on a monitor, heart x-rays, and blood tests, doctors have ruled out the heart as an issue. She does have a low heart rate, but they are convinced that the heart is healthy and doing what it is supposed to do.
Doctors have also ruled out the brain as an issue. They did an MRI and have monitored her sense of feeling in the feet and hands. They watched her zone out multiple times and caught her from falling when escorting her back and forth from her bed, but they are convinced that she is not having seizures and she has a healthy brain.
Now that we are home, she will walk with a walker and assistance.
All of this, they theorize, is the result of stress.
So what does that mean?
Unfortunately, we do not know.
It could take a while to work her way out of where she is. We will follow up with cardiologist and neurologist appointments in upcoming weeks and try to work her into a positive attitude.
Again, we do not know.
And it's the not knowing that bothers us.
As a broken man and the parent of a child with such potential, it is difficult to see her struggling. It is hard to see her scared and uncertain. I do not like watching her fail in any way. And it breaks my heart that I am so helpless.
As a parent, I want to be strong. I want to be the hero. I want to wave a magic wand. I want to make things right.
But sometimes we are at the mercy of everything around us.
And we have to ride the wave of adventure as it is presented to us.
We will make it through.
It's a reminder to me that things could be worse.
This week I've seen my brilliant and beautiful daughter collapsing on her own legs, "zoning out" and becoming responsive, numbness of the extremities, and more. Finally finding a place in the hospital, we ran the gauntlet of tests and still have no definite answers to what causes it or how to fix it.
Theories, but no answers.
After multiple EKGs, being observed on a monitor, heart x-rays, and blood tests, doctors have ruled out the heart as an issue. She does have a low heart rate, but they are convinced that the heart is healthy and doing what it is supposed to do.
Doctors have also ruled out the brain as an issue. They did an MRI and have monitored her sense of feeling in the feet and hands. They watched her zone out multiple times and caught her from falling when escorting her back and forth from her bed, but they are convinced that she is not having seizures and she has a healthy brain.
Now that we are home, she will walk with a walker and assistance.
All of this, they theorize, is the result of stress.
So what does that mean?
Unfortunately, we do not know.
It could take a while to work her way out of where she is. We will follow up with cardiologist and neurologist appointments in upcoming weeks and try to work her into a positive attitude.
Again, we do not know.
And it's the not knowing that bothers us.
As a broken man and the parent of a child with such potential, it is difficult to see her struggling. It is hard to see her scared and uncertain. I do not like watching her fail in any way. And it breaks my heart that I am so helpless.
As a parent, I want to be strong. I want to be the hero. I want to wave a magic wand. I want to make things right.
But sometimes we are at the mercy of everything around us.
And we have to ride the wave of adventure as it is presented to us.
We will make it through.
Feelin' pain's a hard way to know you're still alive
Yeah. That's the line that confirms it: I am a broken man.
