Let Go of the Worry, Not the Story

A good friend said this to me the other night while we were catching up. I was telling her that I was ready to move on and forget that all this had ever happened. You see the last blood work numbers were stellar! Got the call a few days ago. All the Angry Liver Things have fallen into normal range.

In that conversation, she corrected me, there has been too much of a story to ever forget about it. Too much GOOD has come from this stint in the hospital and illness. A renewing of faith, a growth in the boy and me.

It reminds me of an old neighbor that I had, she survived two bouts with cancer and even had a breast removed...but didn’t tell people. I just don’t get that. She didn’t share anything and only accepted minimal help from those around her. She bottled up and just forgot that anything ever happened.

The story is what we learn from. The story makes us grow. It removes us from our comfort zone and into the realm of the unknown, which is where the most fun (and pain) comes from.

I am a bit (a lot) of an open book. I warn people and apologize for that, but sharing is what helps connect us silly humans. The boy isn’t nearly as open as me, and yet he lets that door be open just a bit more now than he ever has.

He has been brutally, jokingly honest about his sickness and hospital stay. In fact just last week he played the sick kid card! A fellow musician at school was bemoaning the loss of a solo and complaining about it not being fair. Discussions ensue amongst those in the room about auditions and how he could have tried for it, etc etc. Having enough of the excuses the boy says, If I can show up for an audition AND make it after just getting out the ICU then you have no room to talk. AND BAM. Conversation shut down. Other kid red faced, head down, walking out of the room. Other adults in a stunned silence and me cackling like a witch on Halloween. “Boy did you just play the sick kid card?” “Yep! And I am right, nobody is allowed to complain until they go in the hospital.”

It was a beautiful thing.

With “normal” numbers I feel a relief and weight off my shoulders. The worry has subsided, but the story will remain forever and always.

Monumental mundane moments

Sometimes the biggest things can happen in the mundane that can betaken for granted.

The boy has a strong will to do what he wants to do when he wants to do it. I think he gets that from his mom. :) From the beginning he has dug in and decided that he was going to do what he wanted. That was his school marching band at the time. He missed more than he wanted of it, but he did need a tiny bit of recovery from the ICU. Three days or so was enough for him.

He did pace himself, his pace was just well above what everyone around him thought it would be.
Once that season was over he crashed physically for awhile. But he moved forward with so much more. He focused so hard on school. He was determined to prove teachers wrong. Not only could he keep up with his college level courses..... he was going to pass them with flying colors. And he did just that.

The boy has always been easy going. Even to a fault. He is a laid back, introvert with a heart for second and 5th chances. He doesn't rock the boat. But then.....I saw that look on his face from behind the Bane like breathing mask. He "rebelled" and tore out the intubation tubes and defied the doctor by not allowing them back in. I As I held his arms and he fought that claustrophobic thing on his head... he turned his head to me and looked me dead in the eyes. "They WILL NOT put that back into me." The fire in those eyes was scary. It was determination and will that I hadn't seen in him. It was like looking in a mirror. :) And he did it. And he went on doing it each and every day since then.

This week when we got a fairly good amount of snow and a snow day he at the age of 17 went out to play in it. Precious moments for his mom. We spent two hours building a boy sized snowman. Not an easy task since he is 6 feet tall! Wet, cold, partially frozen we struggled to get it just right in size and then to actually build it. You see the "torso" was so big we couldn't lift it on the bottom. The bottom had gotten so big we couldn't roll it. I tried to give him alternatives. He would dig in and say no. We will get this. And we did. And an hour after he was done, the sun and melted the snow enough to make him topple over.

Parents have asked me over these past few months how I motivated him. He has taken his SAT and picked a college. He is moving forward with his studies towards that goal. He has a big plan for his major and what he wants his life to be. He has played his horns with power and love. He stays at school some days for 12 hours between classes, teachers and rehearsals.

I would love to take credit for this. But I can't. I didn't motivate him at all. I supported him, but he is driving this train. He found faith in himself and God in himself to go forward with life. He doesn't outwardly talk about faith but it is there. He knows that the life he is living today is an answer to thousands of prayers. So mom doesn't need to motivate him....he has this covered.

ALT update

As I have fallen off the wagon with posting this stuff in a timely manner... here is an update! :)

The boy has had a miraculous turn around. In November we were taking transplant. In December it was still on the table, but not still on the table for 2014. And then January came. Oh how we loved January.

The liver dude walks into the room with a piece of paper and a giant grin. On it are some magic numbers. The boy's levels are almost NORMAL! His ALT (angry liver things) is just 9 points from the normal range. So exciting! They stuck him for blood to check for anemia, scheduled more labs, which we had today but.... he has been cleared to move to every other month appointments! Did I mention I was excited?  This doesn't "cure" him. But it means he should continue to feel better and that the meds are working. 

The liver dude was very pleased and feels very comfortable with where things stand right now. We just keep swimming. 

Sometimes words fail, not often, but they do.  I cannot express the awe I have over this. I have read so much in these past five months. I come from a family.of "need to knowers" so I got it.honest. I hear stories of young ones with similar or less scary situations who have struggled and had transplants. The blessings in my boy's life are astounding. His health, his life is a walking  PSA for faith.