I cannot say enough thanks to the mamas who organized and manned and baked stuff and made signs and stickers for the bake sale that was held for Ike today. I am stunned and humbled and I just don't know what to say. The community outpouring is too overwhelming for me to even comprehend. And it's not just my own tight-knit community – it's people we don't even know, from places far and wide. I can't begin to process it all. But know that we are grateful.
Tonight, it is my job to read the Red Folder. This is the "oh fuck, your kid just had a tracheostomy" information packet. (Why don't they call it that? You know that's what everyone thinks.)
The OFYKJHATIP has been sitting on the counter surrounded by the Emergency Trach kit and little bottles of eye lube (so that his eyes don't dry out while he's sedated and under the influence of the paralytics), and weird gum brush things and gauze and pump parts and a bowl of chicken noodle soup I saved from lunch, but forgot to save the spoon.
The nurses keep asking me if I've read the OFYKJHATIP and I keep telling them I need more time. Time to process, time to freak out, time to enjoy a brief moment of denial, time to worry that reading it will jinx everything and something terrible will happen. But I guess I better get on it.
At least while I'm reading it, I'll have some cookies and brownies and sourdough bread to eat. I hope I can eat, because this stuff looks really good.
He is Bradying right now. Dammit.