Synagist

We have had a good couple of months. At times, we have forgotten that our little guy is even sick. He goes to preschool, plays with his brother, fights with his brother, and giggles like nobody else. However, it's days like today, that I am reminded. Every month during the flu season Elijah gets a shot called synagist. This shot is a vaccine that prevents a severe lung disease called RSV. This is a fairly common disease during the winter that in little guys like Elijah can be deadly. So once a month, every month, we drive to Healthcare Partners in Granada Hills and get his shot. It doesn't sound that bad, right. It's awful. Dion has been taking him for the past few months, but I got the luxury of taking him today.

We pulled up and got out of the car. As we entered the building, Elijah's demeanor started to change. When we got on the elevator, he curled up to me like he was frightened. People on the elevator tried to talk to him, but he just put his head down. Once we got into the waiting room he started to fuss. I pulled out the iphone and let him play a game. This helped distract him. Once we got called into the room, all hell broke lose. Just walking into the room set off uncontrollable tears. He didn't want to let go of me and he wanted nothing to do with the nurses. He cried the entire time, but he cried the most heart wrenching tears when the nurse who eventually gave him his shot came into the room. Those tears were from his gut. He recognized her. He knew that she was going to hurt him. My heart broke. Here I was, doing something that I know rationally is best for my son, but I also know that it will hurt. And I know that he is scared. And I know that I am the one bringing him that pain and that fear. I am suppose to be the one kissing the boo boos, not causing them. I should be the one wrapping him in my arms and running away from pain, not toward it. It's one thing to take your child to his periodic vaccine appointments. They don't understand what is happening and it only happens maybe once a year. It's an entirely different thing when your child knows the pain they are about to feel and the fear is tangible. All I know is that if this is a preview of what is to come with the Fontan, I am in trouble. I like to think that I am strong enough... that I can be the rock, the foundation. But I just don't know. You would think, after all we have been through that a little shot is nothing. It should have been nothing. But it wasn't. Today kinda rocked my world and not in a good way.

I try to end these posts on a positive note, but today I got nothing. Nothing except for the fact that Elijah is doing well and laying on me tonight and watch his favorite show Yo Gabba Gabba (otherwise known as baby crack). I am once again reminded to live in the moment. Not the past and not the future, but the moment.