Day 5: On your marks, get ready, bake! My form of Xanax. The British Baking Show is about all the intensity I can manage as Davis and I wait for his surgery in the afternoon. I spin the rewind line at the bottom of his SpongeBob show on the iPad because he is down to only three that he wants to see as his frustration mounts and his energy levels wane. The task ahead will be a bronchoscopy and wisdom teeth extraction. The newly emerging wisdom teeth may be a source of infection as we cannot get a tooth brush to that part of his mouth. He will allow all other parts to be brushed after every meal but the back. Surgery later suggests good dental health except for that area. The bronchoscopy shows no foreign matter causing the abscess in lower right lung. The course of treatment is now to manage the pain from the tooth extraction and antibiotics for a month to heal the lungs.
Post op recovery turns out to be the most difficult he has ever been through as the pain is managed as best as can be. The night involves two hours of quiet in between his distress. The next day he settles with the pain regimen and Rick drives to Reno to bring us home. The ride and evening are uneventful. Whew. Until…
At two in the morning Davis is frenetically agitated and in a state I recognize as pain. We had not yet started his oxycodone because he had been so peaceful. We had been using Tylenol. Rick and I debate having him ambulanced to the emergency room for IV pain management when the pain pills seem to kick in an hour after given.
Technically this would all be on Day 6. The reason I even note the days is because they fall into a black hole or vacuum when Davis is in crisis. While the tornado of medical mayhem tears down the structures I crave for peace of mind, after each storm there remains enough foundation to rebuild. I tend to approach my day with more of a sense of what really matters. What best starts me off in a morning, and where does that beautiful sense of peace come from which provides me with deep undisturbed sleep? For Davis I sense he craves his visits to Vons and walks with his care team. His healthy baseline.
This morning as Davis sleeps beneath a blanket of heavy pain management pills, I begin my day identifying the birds around my porch by their songs. Mountain chickadees are easy. Northern Flicker I am learning along with the Brown-headed cowbird. After I note the coo from a Eurasian Collared Dove, it decides to come closer. Birding is another meditative device for me.
Rick and I hang onto our first hug of the day a bit longer. I text Davis’s caretaking team a deeply felt gratitude for helping us provide for our boy the best that we can provide together. I cannot control the manner in which the rest of Day 6 will unfold, but I can soak in what is precious in this moment. A gentle reminder of the rainbow after the storm.
The dove affirms our new peace.


