We went to Six Flags a few days ago. I learned that Reema is completely fearless, and that Azer likes to ride the Teacup (it's not my fault, lol). Complete opposites. I managed to convince him to ride a big, wooden coaster. At the end, he said he would never ride it again. Lol.
I couldn't help but thinking on that ride that it was just like CF. It started out uncertain, what's around the corner? What is it going to be like? Then you go up, and you keep going up, as the doctors give you information, and hope. "Everything is going to be fine, we're in this together" they said. And then for that very first hospital admission and the pills added and treatments and more medicines than I knew existed, I went down, fast. I didn't know how I was going to do it. How was I going to ever look at this baby boy without crying? And then things evened out. I gradually got better. I started to think, oh ... that wasn't so bad! Look! Totally ok! And we're going up.
Then, wait ... what? The hospital again? More medications? Going down! What is this new stuff they want me to do to him now? New treatments, something else you find out that isn't right with your kid.
It never ends. Whenever I read back through the years on this blog, I read the "up" posts, everything is great, he's gaining weight, not coughing. And then the "down" posts, he's coughing, he's throwing up, he's not gaining, not eating, IV's, X-rays. I guess you kind of learn to prepare for the downs, try to anyway. But sometimes they come when I'm not looking. Sometimes I'm afraid that a down is going to pop up when I'm not ready for it.