It Hurts

Sam has always had sensitive skin. His hearing has always been more sensitive and his emotions run deep, both good and bad. Since recommencing Kindy I have watched him grown in confidence, regaining some of what was lost during the last surgery in March. It is wonderful to watch him bloom, yet hand in hand with the bloom comes fragility and vulnerability.

He was accidentally pushed over at Kindy yesterday grazing both of his knees. He felt it deeply and the whole Kindy knew about it. They called me, not concerned about his knees but his reaction to the accident. You see his reaction to pain and fear is so out of character for Sam. The once happy little chappy with the big vocabulary and infectious giggle, just screams and cries and will not be consoled. He will not let anyone touch his wounds or try to distract him so they can. So they called me, on the way home from getting groceries and I had to make a choice. To go and comfort him...or to leave him in their care. Every motherly part of me screamed to turn the car around go to him. The other part of me, wants him to grow and realise that he can do it on his own, and that he needs to. So pushing down the caring part, I resolved to let them deal with it and drove in the opposite direction. Ten minutes later I called and he had settled somewhat, though now they had somehow convinced Sam to apply his own band aids, three of them. Oh hell! Yes, that's right, hell. It will be when they need to come off.

When I arrived to collect him in the afternoon he was still waking from a sleep. He was unable to stand, due to the stiffness of the grazes and bruising and I had to carry him to the car. They told me that he had not been himself for the rest of the day. That he had seemed tired and staring off into space. They do no understand how trauma saps his energy. For the last 24 hours he has been walking over like a hunched old Grandpa. Part of me worries that he has broken something but he would not be able to walk at all then right?

This morning he needed to take off the band aids. An hour later through much wailing, negotiation and persistence he removed two and I the other. It was not the best start to the day and Jack was almost late for school. And now he sleeps while I write this. Because of the exertion and drama over the last 24 hours we are both exhausted. Him from struggling to deal with it all and me from playing good cop, bad cop, trying to encourage him into moving, without me having to carry him.

Most other kids have grazed knees occasionally. It hurts, and they react but not in this way. I struggle with dealing with it all because besides my husband there are few who understand the drama, physical and psychological implications of it all.

My heart is aching today. I think I need a holiday.