“Turn on the engine, please” I gasped in Chinese. “We need to start the oxygen concentrator — he needs help breathing.” The driver started the engine, we plugged in the concentrator and he breathed easy again. I held him tight, whispered one last lullaby and then handed him to the nanny who would admit him into PICU.
this could be the last time… was all that I could think and as I thought it I tried to wipe the thoughts from my mind.
no, believe, believe… he will make it. he will make it. I tried to have hope and yet I knew that he had crashed too many times and I would be leaving the next week to join my family in starting up New Day North. I wondered if it would be the last time I ever held him, ever sang lullabies as I rocked him… ever stared into his eyes as he stared into mind and we believed for one another.
For a month he fought. Then he came home, crashed, was readmitted, had emergency surgery and then home again, finally ready for healing.
But now he's sick again with pneumonia. I’ll be back in Beijing next week to visit, but Benjamin was admitted again into PICU this afternoon.
|picture taken this afternoon|
But do you know what? It's okay. Because I believe that “last time” actually wasn't the last time that I'll ever see him. He's being taken good care of and he will get through this. And maybe, just maybe, he'll be out of the hospital in time. Wouldn't that be a blessing.