Oliver had an appointment at CNMC this morning and thanks to the Metro's Safe Track project, we now have to allot two full hours for the 25 mile trek. We were out the door by 7:30 and arrived on time for his Modified Swallow Study, only there was an error in scheduling and his appointment was for Monday. I almost lost it then and there, but I reminded myself that a kind word is going to be my best friend in this situation. I explained our story, showed the order with the appointment information and said that we were willing to wait if they could please fit us in.
An hour later we were back in radiology getting prepped. I popped Oliver up in the x-ray chair and he waited ever so patiently for his first bite of food for the day, no worries that it was covered in barium paste. As we waited for the team to assemble, Oliver started to get a little antsy. I bent over my bag to grab the iPad, stood up straight and banged my head on some piece of equipment. I saw stars. Embarrassed and in a considerable amount of pain, I tried to shake it off and hold in the expletives that were aching to escape.
And then they came. Tears. It hurt, but not enough to make me cry. I turned my head to try to pull myself together and they started flowing even more. And in an instant that bump on my head released a few weeks worth of emotions. Flashes of memories of Oliver's surgery, my worries, my memories of Waverly, the realization that this g-tube is not a step I wanted to have to take already, my fears that Oliver's time is slipping by too quickly - they all poured out. And I was completely unable to stop them.
I am fairly certain the SLP and radiology tech thought I suffered a traumatic brain injury or an emotional breakdown. I muttered something about wanting to just keep moving forward and we did. I fed Oliver spoonfuls of barium purees, cups of barium nectar and graham crackers coated in barium paste And with each of his swallows, snot dripped from my nose and tears fell off my face. I was a mess.
I haven't had this happen before. A bit of physical pain causing an avalanche of emotional pain to rush forth. I have read about other bereaved parents having a similar outburst, but this was my first time. It is always cathartic to have a good cry and feel. However I try to do so in the privacy of my home or surrounded by a few close friends. Not in front of 5 strangers during a medical procedure.