This is not a Mom Blog, but Sister Wolf is nothing if not a mother. And nothing makes a mother feel more like an animal than when her child is in danger.
My child has been in the hospital for just over two weeks. It has gone from terrible to better to good, and back to terrible. From critical condition to stable condition. Then back to critical.
I’ve noticed that all my animal instincts have been activated. I have never felt more rage. I was ready to kill. I threatened to kill more than once. When I encountered an incompetent nurse, I appealed to the head of administration to keep her away from my son. We haven’t seen her again.
I have stayed up all night on sheer adrenalin. I’ve been scared to death and maintained my composure.
Now I have to deal with some fucking idiots who pumped my kid full of opiates and then reduced them so quickly that he went into serious withdrawal, which was the most horrible thing I have ever witnessed. Fuckers! Why can’t I kill them?
All I can do is watch over him and do my best to make sure that one of the best hospitals in the US doesn’t make another mistake.
When I sit beside his bed, I love him as much as the day he was born. I could look at his face for hours, and I do. I love the way he smells, even when it’s awful. I am flooded with maternal adoration. I wish he had fleas so I could pick them out of his fur.
I will probably take this post down soon enough, but for anyone interested, that’s the current situation. In my exhaustion, I asked my husband to help me organize my priorites. Here is my list:
1. Get Max well.
2. Drink water.
I may lose my appetite for revenge, but I did have the brilliant idea of keeping a water pistol in my handbag. Why didn’t I ever think of this before?! When someone makes me mad, I can just squirt them in the face!
I guess neccessity really is the mother of invention. And mothers in crisis are not to be fucked with.