Fuck. This. Virus.

I know I was supposed to post a cover reveal, and I totally understand if you don’t want to read about my personal problems. If that is the case, go ahead and skip this post since there will be nothing writing related in it. It’s perfectly okay — literally everyone in the world is stressed out right now, and you need to take care of your emotional health. The cover reveal will be the post after this one, and will go up some time this week. I think.

***

I’m supposed to be sleeping. My dad just came out of his bedroom to tell me I need to try and get some rest so I won’t get sick. The fact that he even knew I was awake means he’s not sleeping either.

My mom has been in the ICU since March 2nd. Ironically, what happened to her had nothing to do with the coronavirus/COVID-19. She got a blood clot in her stomach and one in her arm. Because of those clots, and subsequent complications, she’s had 4 surgeries since she was admitted.

Her birthday was on the 16th.

It took her a long time, but Saturday seemed to be a great day for her. All the tubing and lines were removed. Her stomach was working well enough that the doc was going to let her eat real food for the first time in 3 weeks. She was happy and alert (after every surgery she had to fight her way back from ICU Delirium). She was even walking a little.

I didn’t get to see any of that because the hospital went on lockdown with new coronavirus protocols. Even family members weren’t allowed to visit their sick loved ones. I hadn’t seen her since Thursday. I was only allowed to talk to her on the phone. But she was getting better. We were going to bring her home soon.

Then, Saturday night, her oxygen levels plummeted and they didn’t know why. She became unresponsive and they had to put her back on the ventilator. The doctor gave us special permission to visit her, because, well, I still refuse to say it out loud.

We got 20 minutes. Then they said we had to leave.

They’ve been able to stabilize her, but she’s still on the ventilator. All the tubing is back in place. She’s not responding to the nurses. The doctors are still running tests. We weren’t allowed to see her today. Coronavirus protocols, you understand.

I can’t sleep. Neither can my dad.

My mom is the heart of this house. When she’s not here, we’re not here. Not really. I need her to get better. I want to go to the hospital and hold her hand because she might not respond to the nurses, but last night she opened her eyes for a split second and squeezed my hand the way she always does.

I wonder if she’s thinking about us. I’m scared she won’t understand why we’re not with her.

I can’t sleep.

I call every couple of hours. I know which nurses are sympathetic and those are the ones I ask to tell my mom that her family loves her. I have no idea if they actually tell her or not.

I’m a wreck. My dad, who is usually so unshakable and stoic, is fraying at the edges. He can’t sleep either.

I’ve never felt so scared or helpless. I can’t think of anything to do for her so I’m writing this. I’m asking for prayers, positive energy, gentle thoughts — whatever your belief system can spare.

Maybe then she’ll wake up. Maybe then my dad and I will sleep.

5 Responses to “Fuck. This. Virus.”

  1. Madelyn Reilly says:

    My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. Take care.

  2. Rachael says:

    I’m so sorry Rowan. Sending you and your family a huge virtual hug. My thoughts are with you x

  3. Jeanessa says:

    Peace be with you, Rowan. I hope your mom gets better and comes home.

  4. Claudia says:

    I’m so sorry you’re family is going through this right now and I imagine how helpless you feel right now. Hang in there and I’m sending you good vibes.

  5. James says:

    Rowan, I’m so very sorry to hear about your mother’s health problems. Hang in there and I hope everything works out for the best.

Leave a Reply for Rachael