How It Happened
Chapter 9
Grace
Carrick convinced me to head home with him so I could get some rest. I really didn't want to leave Christian, but my husband wasn't taking no for an answer. I did get him to let me come back later by agreeing to take a few days at part time. Then I can maintain the position as Christian's physician, and spend more time just being with him. I was able to help Elliot with his math homework and listen to him read to me. He even helped me make dinner for us, but I was really upset that I wouldn't be there for Christian's dinner time. I called the nurses and asked that a volunteer be with him. I didn't want him to be alone, nor did I want another possible choking incident.
After dinner Carrick walked me into our bedroom to take a nap. I argued but don't really know why. I was exhausted; both physically and emotionally. I slept from 6:30 to 8:30, but now insist I go back to be with Christian. Elliot is just going to bed so I tuck him in, kiss him goodnight and head back to the hospital.
I check in at the nurses' station first. They tell me Christian is still awake. I ask about dinner. Thankfully, the mac and cheese went off without too much trouble. I guess there was a small mess, but once he tried using the spoon, it went much better. It's progress.
When I enter his room he is sitting up holding that blanket. He almost looks like he did last night. Except, now I can see a visible difference in his skin, thanks to the hydration. Hopefully soon we'll see the nutrition and weight gain taking effect. Some of the bruises are turning yellow, so they're healing too and the consistent attention has hastened the healing process for most of the burns as well. He's a quick recovery so far and as a physician, I am quite pleased! Let's hope it works this way for him emotionally as well.
"Good evening Darling. I'm here to say goodnight. Would you like me to read you a story before you go to sleep?" Christian shakes his head and points to my chest with a surprised and questioning look. "Oh. My stethoscope? No I don't have it right now. I'm just here to visit, not to be a doctor." He points and grunts like last night. "Would you like to hear your heartbeat again?" He silently nods. " I can arrange that." I get another stethoscope from the nurses' station and let him listen to his and my heartbeats. He tries listening to his face, his arms, the pillow, bed, table and his blanket. While I know there is not a lot to hear in any of those items, he is amazed to hear his own breath and probably the scratching of the stethoscope against the objects.
"So how about that story now so you can go to sleep. Let's see… you already heard these two, so how about… Oh, Trouble With Trolls… This is by one of my favorite authors. All of her books have little clues in the pictures for you to see and figure out…" I proceed to read to him and show him the pictures along the edges that show what else is happening in the story. He is soon looking for them before I can point them out. He is very bright.
When we finish he motions for another book. Really he should be getting to sleep, but there is an urgency, almost a fear in him, that encourages me to read another. I think he is truly afraid to go to sleep. I let him choose from the book collection this time. He chooses a number book; adding Hershey's kisses. After about only three pages, he takes the book out of my hands and begins looking at it very inquisitively. I can actually see from his expressions that he is thinking through the puzzles. I can even see when he feels he has the answer. He turns the page and holds it up for me to read to him. He gives a small smile. I guess that means he is right.
I look at my watch and see that it's almost 9:30. I hear Christian yawn and note he is looking very tired. "OK darling boy, now it's definitely time for you to sleep. I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere." He looks quite frightened and holds out his hands to me. I put mine out and he grabs my fingers like he's done when the bandages were changed. He lays back and closes his eyes. I feel his tight grip as he tries to relax. It's been a long, difficult day. I don't know what compels me to, but I begin singing softly to him. "Hush little baby, don't say a word…" I see his eye lids relax a bit. "Papa's gonna' buy you a mocking bird…" I hear his breathing calm and even out. "If that mocking bird don't sing…" Is he actually asleep already? "Papa's gonna' buy you a diamond ring…" I feel his grip lax and release my fingers. Oh, little boy, sleep well. I put the now fresh blanket in his arms. He hugs it close and hides his face.
Again, I am wakened by Christian's moaning and grunting, soon accompanied by his thrashing in the bed. Another nightmare? "I'm right here… Shhhhhh…" This time I know what to do; I grab his blanket and he hugs it tightly, I give him my fingers to squeeze and he holds them tightly. Everything about him is so tense. "Shhhh… It's alright, I'm here, Darling… I'm here… Shhhh…" He's still shaking and moaning. The sweat is beading on his head…. "Hush little baby, don't say a word…" And I see his face relax… It's going to be another long night.
We go through this three more times before morning. In the meantime, the nurses come and go, readministering the IV hydration and nutrients. Despite everything going on around him and in his own mind, Christian never really awakens. I, on the other hand, hardly get any sleep. But apparently I did get some rest, as I find myself wakened with a start.
Christian wakes before I do. When I open my eyes, he is sitting up, hugging his blanket and looking at me. "Well, good morning, Christian. How long have you been awake?" I look at my watch. It's only six a.m. Really? What is he doing up so early? I don't think breakfast will be served for another hour. "How about you lay back down and sleep a little more? It isn't even time for…" I'm cut off by a shake of his head. He points and reaches for the box of toys. Maybe he can play and I can sleep a little longer. I give him the box and he dumps its contents on the bed again. He gets down and starts rolling silent cars back and forth along the floor , and flying quiet airplanes through the air. I feel myself begin to drift off once more, thankfully.
That's short lived however when I feel Christian pulling at my arm. Again I'm jolted awake. Only this time there's a small airplane in my face. "What, Darling? You want me to play?" He nods and I get a small, shy smile. I'd really like to get another hour of sleep, but apparently, this little guy is ready to go. "OK. Give me a minute…" I stand and stretch. He's already off and rolling cars back and forth along the floor.
He moves and knocks one a bit too hard with his foot. It goes across the room where the IV tubes won't let him reach. "I'll get it, Sweetheart." I walk over to the small toy and roll it back in his direction. Christian looks up at me in amazement. He picks up the toy, looks at it, looks at me, then reaches it up to me gain. I take it, walk back across the room and silently roll it back to him. We do this about four more times. I don't say anything, I'm too fascinated by his fascination.
Another look of amazement and his expression to me assures me this kind of reciprocal play was not in his life experiences. I remember Becca yesterday, I thought she played with him, but maybe a teenaged girl's idea of playing with him is different than this experience, because he certainly is acting like this is very new.
"Here, let's try this…" I take another car and get down next to him. "OK, on three we'll let them race. One…two…three!" I let my car go but Christian is still holding his, looking back and forth from me to the car that is now across the room. "It's a race, Darling. We let them go together and see which one goes farthest. Let's try again. I grab a couple more from the pile on the bed. "OK, on three we let go. One… two… three!" I push my car and it rolls to the far wall. Christian still has his hand on his.
I begin to feel this is something for Dr. Evans to know. He is four years old and apparently never learned that these little toys will roll when you let go, that someone can send it back to you, maybe doesn't even understand the concept of 'one, two, three, go.' These are such simple concepts that all children learn by this age. But not this child. However, thinking about the life experiences he does know far too much about, makes me cringe and want to cry.
We try the race a few more times. I win them all because he isn't letting go of his car. Then I try to help him. "Here. Let me show you." I reach over to demonstrate by taking his hand in mine. He shrieks and pulls his arm back. He stands and hurries out of the way for the security of the bed. The look on his face, like yesterday morning, is of uncertainty, fear and pain. "I'm so sorry Christian. Please do not be afraid of me. I would never hurt you. I want to help you. Can I please just hold your hand to show you how to play with me?"
Christian is holding his hand behind his back. In that position, I can see the bruises on his upper arms, and realize why he is so afraid. It's more than likely the only touch he's really known has been harsh and painful. "I would never hurt you. Please come back and play with me. We don't' have to race. We can do something else. Please?" I want to hold my hand out to him, bit feel in this case that may be counterproductive. Instead, I pat the spot next to me where he was sitting just a minute before. Then I put my hands in my lap to show him I have no intention of touching him. I can see the wheels spinning in his head debating whether or not to trust what I've said.
It feels like forever, but he finally does cautiously walk back over to me. He kneels back on the floor and looks up to me. I decide the best thing to do is say nothing until he's ready to play. He slowly puts the car on the ground, gives it a push, and lets go. It doesn't make it across the room, but it is no longer in his hand.
"Well done, Darling. Would you like to try again?" I hand him another car. He pushes and lets go. This time it goes farther than before. "That's it! Good job!" I go to gather the other cars that have already made it across as our pile is getting smaller now. I decide to roll them back to him. He is very pleased with this game. At least his face looks pleasant and not scared or confused. He surprises me then when he looks up at me and pats the floor where I had just been sitting moments before. I don't say anything, but go to sit down next to him. He hands me a car and puts his down on the floor. I follow his lead. He looks at me expectantly. It takes me a minute but I realize he's waiting for me to count to three. "OK, one, two…three!" We both let go of our cars and they roll off in opposite directions. It's impossible to tell which one really went farthest. I look into the happy eyes of this amazing child. I feel the lump at the back of my throat when I proudly tell him, "You win!"