So if you've been reading this blog, you would have noticed that all my writings have been done in retrospect, events of last year as I remember living them. I've been trying to catch up to the present but it's taking me a while. There have been times I have wanted to share things on here thoughts and moments of today but I haven't because I would lose the flow of the story. But today, I just have to write this.
I had to go to Costco today, to help my little sister get in so she could purchase a dessert she had to take somewhere. I helped her do her thing, she was on her way and I went back to shopping for the things I needed. As I walked around looking for the Sushi rolls I saw a women accompanied by some young girls with them a young adult/teenage girl in a wheel chair. She looked healthy but as I got closer however, I became fixated on her arm/upper chest area as if it was sending me some kind of hidden signal. She was wearing either a strapless shirt or tank because I could clearly see she had a Broviac line. I quickly glanced at the middle of her chest to see if I saw an incision scar but noticed none. As I passed by her I noticed instead she was wearing a cute short wig. It then became clear to me she was a cancer patient. I'm sure she is use to people starring at her but I hoped inside me she knew I understood her somewhat and that although she was not my daughter nor friend, she was beautiful and I admired her strength. I wished I could of have asked her too what it feels like to have a Broviac Line, as her and Alexa shared that in common. Seeing her line instantly flashed me back to the NICU/PICU as my baby girl had the exact same thing on her arm/chest. As I write this I'm thinking wow, are these flashbacks part of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or something. Anyway, here is a pic I found of my baby girl with that central catheter line.
This is not the best picture but you can see what it looks like. It is invasive and requires surgery for placement and is usually done under sedation or a general anesthetic by a radiologist or surgeon.
As I drove back from Costco, I thought about Alexa, about how much she has been through. I thought about how uncomfortable it was for me to have a dumb tiny little splinter in my finger and how I just wanted it out and about the many children who suffer on a daily basis with serious illness. I love Alexa. I love her more than my life. I thought as I drove that seeing your baby/child face Open Heart Surgery is really like one of the hardest things you can face as a parent. And although Alexa is such a dream, a wonderful, little charmer of a baby, the experience with CHD has been like a nightmare you just wish you could wake up from. Yes, I've learned along the way, and maybe even become a better person because of it, but I wish it was not at the physical expense of my daughters health.
I guess I was so entranced with my thoughts that I had no idea I had a cop flashing his lights behind me. I had been driving on automatic pilot, going through the motions while my mind was completely somewhere else. As the cop describe it to me, "I just rolled through a Stop sign". He asked me if I knew why he stopped me, and really I didn't. I remember making a stop, maybe lightly.
When the cop pulled me over, I really felt like crying. Between my flashbacks to the NICU and then thinking about Alexa's upcoming surgery and then the possibility of a ticket made me want to cry. Thankfully, he decided to give me a break. Thank goodness! We could all use a break sometime, especially innocent children like the girl at Costco and my little sweet heart. Please continue to keep these children and their families in your thoughts and prayers.