Three Years.

This is me, Three years ago today. 

Three years ago tonight I lay in the PICU after having major surgery with tubes coming out of every part of my body. 

Three years ago my mother and family spent the entire day in a waiting room wondering what would happen. Waiting for those updates that were few and far between. 

Three years ago my mother sat with the amazing surgeon after he had finished and learned of all the damage that was inside of me. 

Three years ago today, I guess you could say it all finally sunk in. 

It all hit.

We knew for certain. 

Three years ago today, my stomach was fixed to the best it would ever be again. 

Three years since I lay in that room with that little boy. He was around two years old I believe. His parents were not there. They didn't expect him to make it much longer. Yet, he fought on. He still tried. The beeping from all the machines was strangely comforting, I had never shared a hospital room before. The PICU nurse was great. He would ask me questions about doing all the different procedures that had to be done on me. Not because he didn't know, or because I did know. Just to keep me distracted. To be involved. 

To have a relationship other than on the skin. 

I was transfered to the floor shortly after. The little boy died the same night. And well. I can't help but wonder; was he alone? DId he have to spend his last moments alone? It saddens my heart. I am happy he is no longer in pain. 

I think of that little boy often. 

I wonder if I learned what he was teaching or if I just put him in my memory and grabbed the obvious lesson? 

I've made it three years now. 

Here's to 3x25 more!