Welcome back to another double dose edition of the one and only The Beat Within. This is the only magazine where everyone speaks their truths, and stories without having to be judged in a negative way. Our editorial note will be written by OT as he shares with our community the part two installment, about a very daunting experience that happened to him and his family recently…Thank you for sharing your challenges with us OT!
This is a continuance from my last editorial note, part two of my son’s medical ordeal. So, it’s Sunday evening now, the sun has gone down, my nerves have shot straight up! My new baby son, only eleven months old, is having an emergency surgery.
They are going to have to cut him open to save his life. I’m pacing outside on the benches. I brought my computer along, to get some work done. As I’ve stated before, since I’m a male, I’m not going to be allowed inside at all. For security reasons there are no men allowed in the hospital at night. There will be no bribing any security guards.
I’m actually already breaking the rule just by being inside the hospital complex, sitting at some garden benches. I didn’t really know who to call, and what to do because at this point, I had about six weeks being sober, from alcohol, and cigarettes as well.
The devil could be really annoying. He was already telling me to buy at least a half pack of cigarettes. My stress levels were high, but I didn’t cave in. I called my aunt because I felt like I needed to let her know before I tell my mom. My aunt has always been more a mother figure to me, and a much easier person to talk to than my mom. My mom’s real toxic and even in a situation like this, I know she can find ways to elevate my stress levels instead of providing the comfort that I needed.
Ring, “Hola Mijo…”
I interrupted her, “Tengo buenas y malas noticias…” (I have very bad news) I went straight to business. Since the doctors hadn’t even explained to us really what the procedure was all about, I went on Google, Kaiser websites, and University of Medicine. I mean everything that there was, to know about an intussusception, and I downloaded it onto my brain.
Twenty minutes of me surfing online and I was a pro! From everything I had read it was a real common procedure for children in between nine months and the age of two. There was a very small chance of death, I mean really small chance at anything bad happening, but these were prestigious words coming from Hospitals in the United States of America. I’m in Nicaragua!
In other words, If I was at Kaiser, I wouldn’t have felt as nervous. Here I am about to find out just how good the doctor’s were here at Managua’s Children’s Hospital. My aunt cried and prayed and we prayed together.
Next up, I called my mom and she was hysterical to say the least and obviously blaming me for everything. My stress levels were on the rise again like ashes spewing from a volcano about to erupt. You get the picture. I managed to calm her down, and honestly, I had no time for self-pity. I had no window to feel weak. I had to calm everyone down. No one knew how this could happen so fast, and what was going on. My girlfriend’s family managed to get inside (go figure, they’re all women). I had to explain to them also what was going on.
I was allowed to see my son one last time before they started prepping him and told him it was going to be alright. I kissed him several times on the head. He wasn’t crying or anything, but I felt like he knew something was about to happen.
I was back outside again it’s around nine pm and to calm my nerves I sent an email to Lisa, which I know she wouldn’t see till the morning.
I did a few things on the computer and started doing some editing. I got to work. I zoned in and read the writing from the young folks. Every once in a while, I would get up pace back and forth. My aunt would call every fifteen minutes. My mom would call every five minutes. My head was pounding like a war drum. Boom, boom, boom!
The procedure was under way. I kept tapping fingers, reading The Beat, and making some edits. The devil kept poking at me, buy half a pack. Drink just one beer. My conscience was wrestling with itself. Like the old school Looney Tunes cartoons, the little angel talking in one ear and the devil in the other.
But I wasn’t having it. I needed to be the voice of reason around a lot of emotional women not just in my family, but girl’s family as well. She has four other sisters and her mom.
Finally, the moment we were waiting for, one of the doctor’s came out and said they were almost done. They said it wasn’t as bad as expected and that they were wrapping it up.
Again, only my girl was allowed back in. Since I was fielding calls every few minutes or so, I informed my family accordingly. I kept my focus on the writing in front of me and felt blessed. I felt that everything was going to be alright.
I’m not going to lie, a lot of negative thoughts would buzz in my head like a bees in a bee hive, but I kept ignoring them. I prayed to God. I know it wasn’t a punishment. This was a blessing in disguise. Everyone went home except me my girl and her mom. It was getting late. My girl would no longer come back out, as she stayed in the hospital room attending to our baby JD.
I tried to get some shut eye on a bench, but it was cold and started drizzling. I wasn’t going to be able to go inside until the morning, my girl told me to go home. I got home around two in the morning and slept five hours.
Time to go back to the hospital. I brought my girl, clothes, diapers, wipes, and a subway sandwich.
Visiting is only one hour, from seven to eight am but I managed to stay till like ten thirty. I saw my baby boy! Didn’t look his best, but he was happy to see me and so was I! Part three, the conclusion to my story, will be coming in the next issue folks. It’s always a blessing to share my story with you all. One love to everybody. Long live David and The Beat keeps going and going…
Thank you, OT, we really appreciate you for sharing your struggles! We are all so glad to hear, that your sweet baby boy had a successful surgery. It all sounded like a very stressful experience, and it must have been so hard to keep your sobriety through all the drama and emotions of fear and anxiety. Congratulations on staying strong for your family and for baby JD making it through this medical emergency. Thank you for sharing your raw emotions.