It’s been about 10 days since our boy was admitted to the hospital. We’re now preparing for his third extubation. The last time we tried, the pain that followed, his treacherous, belabored breathing, his inability to get enough Oxygen, lead to a return to the ventilator. I wish no such agony on any child or an adult, and certainly don’t want to see it again for him.
I’m pained as I await another night to see the results. I’m excited since we believe we’ve done everything to insure his success, and struggling with the unknown of whether he’ll be able to breathe again on his own.
All we have left is now time…time to wait until the start of the procedure…time to wait to see how well his body can acclimate…time…the damning, unending, heavy burden of time.
My fate I see ahead
On this road to kill.
What I kill
Is not any one thing living,
But time that is mind
Never wishes to still.
This ever changing thing,
I aim to stop the crime of time
And all rules it governing.
The attempt, futile it seems,
But the unattainable I aim to gain,
Knowing that others’ luck
As mine isn’t.
With this audacity,
And calm volcanoes sincerity,
I make my way
In breaking and tearing at time.
On my road I celebrate
Each moment as I push forth
My time breaking blades
Of thoughts and emotions razor shaped.
Were I to die in my breaking,
To loose my soul to this unmaking,
I would not regret my reckoning
With man-made evil, time, ever-lasting.