I wake up. I hear Beckett stirring next to me and pray for five more minutes of sleep. I realize that’s not going to happen so I climb out of bed and use the bathroom. I hear him start to fuss. “Hurry up, Kim” I say to myself. I grab a syringe and quietly head downstairs to the fridge trying not to disturb the girls. Opening the fridge, I pull out the medicine bottle, double check the directions and fill up the syringe. 1.25 mL.
Carrying the medicine, I head back upstairs. I pull a baby wipe out from its container and split it in half. I put the syringe on half of the wipe on our bed.”Morning bubba!” I then pull a smiling Beckett out of his bed and change his diaper, carefully inspecting the color of his poop. Phew. It’s a dark enough color. I put the new diaper on. Time to measure his belly. I grab the measuring tape and put it under his back. “Please, please let it be the same.” I wrap it around his belly and bring it together right by his belly button. 42 cm. Perfect.
Then I move him to the middle of our bed and go into our bathroom to get the rest of his medicine. 2.5 mL of his pink antibiotic. I grab the dreaded vitamin. I open it up and immediately the smell hits me. Why? Why does it smell so bad? Scrunching my nose, I take the two medicines back into our room and lay them next to the refrigerated one.
I pull Beckett to the edge of the bed. He smiles at me blissfully unaware of what he’s about to go through. “Hey bud, you ready?” I grab the nasty orange vitamin. I pinch his cheeks and put the syringe in the pocket of his cheek. He starts to swallow and lick the syringe. I put more in his mouth pinching his cheeks so he can’t push it out with his tongue. Orange starts to drip down his cheek and I panic, grabbing the other half of the wipe before it stains his clothes or our bed. One down. Two more to go. I reach for the pink medicine. Oh how he hates the pink one. Still smiling and talking to him, I put it in his cheek. He gulps. And gasps. I hear the air bubbles go into his belly. He coughs. I sit him up and help him burp. “You ok?” He smiles. I lay him back down and we keep going. “Good job!!” We finally finish. I reach for the last medicine. He does great. I wipe his mouth and pick him up. He burps and I wipe the orangish pinkish spit from his lips. “All done Becks!” I kiss his sweet cheeks and start getting him ready for the day.
12 hours til we do it all again…..
Written by: Kimber
2 responses to “Morning…”
oh bless you…
Just wanted to let you know that I stumbled upon your blog this morning and am super touched by your words because I know exactly what you are talking about! Floods of memories came back as your words reminded me so much of my own so many years ago. My daughter Makelle also is a patient of Dr. Book’s and was born with biliary atresia. She is now just about to turn 17 and still is a Kasai only patient. It probably won’t be too much longer till she has a transplant, but Dr Book has taken really good care of her and she has had a great life. You are in good hands. I would love to talk to you if you ever have any questions along your way. I am very impressed by your strength and good attitude.