30 Days of Truth: Day 6

What do you hope to never have to do? It's time for Day 6 of the 30 Days of Truth writing prompts.

Day 6: Something you hope you never have to do.

There are tons of things I hope to never have to do. Of course, having to say goodbye to my loved ones tops that list, and just the thought of anyone close to me passing away is a topic so scary I can't even talk about. I hope to never have to deal with the sadness that comes with death, even though I've dealt with it before. I know this is a part of life, but it's a part that I am most afraid of.

I hope to never be in very uncomfortable situations. I never want to be in a plane crash. I never want to consider sushi a favourite food. I never want to play dodgeball again, and I never want to be on Jeopardy because I was once on the Greek version of that show, at my community centre, and OMG, did I ever SUCK. (My dad was all, "You'll do great!" My mom was all, "Loukia, you'll do HORRIBLE. How embarrassing! You won't even get one answer right! OMG, I am not even going to come see you!")

Ahem. Anyway.

The one thing I hoped to never do was to experience seeing one of my children sick and in pain. Besides death, I think there is nothing worse than having to see your child suffer. My worst nightmare came true.

When I was pregnant, I worried so much about losing my unborn child. I thought, 'If I can make it to twelve weeks, I'll be okay. The worry will go away.' However, week 12 came and went, and as as my belly grew, so did my worry. Little did I know then that the worry I had when I first found out I was pregnant would be everlasting. And it would get worse.

My oldest son suffered a few bad kidney infections when was very young. At 12 weeks old, he was admitted to the children's hospital and he stayed, with me by his side, for two weeks. To see my baby with an IV in him, and to watch him endure countless numbers of ultrasounds, was something I never thought would happen to me, to my child. I hoped to never have to see my child in pain. But I did. He missed his first Halloween.

At 6 months old, he got another infection, but this time our hospital stay was only 5 days. I was a little stronger, but still. The worry. Knowing that what he had was treatable made it bearable. I knew we would be going home. And I knew, speaking to his doctor, that the worst case scenario would be surgery. We could deal with that, I thought then.

At 3 years old, a few days before Halloween, my son got a very bad cold. I was frozen when his doctor told me he had pneumonia. I didn't think it was possible for children to get pneumonia. His illness resulted in a two week hospital stay. In isolation. When things took a turn for the worse, he needed surgery to drain fluid from his lung. I never thought I'd see my child be put to sleep for surgery, for an operation of his lung. God knows how I survived that day and the days that followed, family by our side. Oxygen masks, morphine, the beeping of the machines, rushing to find his nurse whenever I got worried, and trying to comfort my sick child. These days were the hardest of my life. Seeing other precious children sick on the same floor was also unbearable. The smell of Purell now only reminds me of his hospital stay. I know I'll never forget, even the smallest details, of those days. The entire experiece was something I hoped to never have to do - to see my child in pain.

Everything else I hope to never have to do in my life doesn't seem so awful, after that.