Sunlight seeped in slowly through the glass, and everything in the transplant warehouse lay quietly. I opened my hazy eyes, and then I heard the nurse turn on the light in the outside compartment. Pa, my heart is pounding, and I draw blood again every two days. In addition, I have to monitor my abdominal circumference and weight, and calculate the intake and withdrawal. To observe the changes in my condition, but for me, drawing blood is the headache. After all, for a child, this is blood drawing.
? After simple struggle, crying and anger, the blood was successfully drawn. This is the eighth blood draw in the warehouse. I calculated that I would get blood transfusion once a month. The little guy is five and a half years old this year, plus failed bone marrow transplantation and occasional unsuccessful injections. Since six months, the child should have injected about 65,438+000 times. These needles are stuck in the child's skin and flesh, and in my heart by the way, but I deeply understand that I have to learn to face it bravely and hope to give the child a powerful figure. In front of children, we parents are often not even qualified to cry.
After drawing blood, the little guy told me, mom, I want to watch TV for a while. I turned on the TV: "It's too early. There is no TV you want to watch. Why don't you sleep a little longer?" He nodded cleverly, yawned twice and was awakened in his sleep. Sleepy, I coaxed him to go back to sleep. After a while, he opened his eyes and said, grandma is here. I'll turn around. His grandmother stood outside the window and looked at the room sadly and lovingly. The isolation window has good sound insulation effect. I simply made a greeting gesture and continued to put the little guy to sleep. The little guy's grandmother took a chair and sat outside the window. Her face is covered with scars left by years. The newborn sun shone on her, and her eyes were full of anxiety and worry. ...
Breathe evenly, close your eyes gently, and under the dim light, you can see the chiseled eyelashes of the little guy, quietly, quietly.
Today is the17th day of entering the transplant warehouse.
On the day we entered the warehouse, the little guy and I went in through two entrances. The entrance of the guard came in. On the right hand side, there are some lockers, and on the left hand side, there are bathrooms and showers. We need a simple shower, put on autoclaved underwear, and then the nurse will show you the ward. Starting from the first shower door, where nurses work, and then entering the induction door, it is a long aisle with five transplant rooms side by side. The professional name is laminar flow ward. When the little guy comes in through another induction door, he also needs to take a bath, wash with sterilized shower gel, change clothes for the first time, cross the aisle, and finally enter the transplant warehouse to change sterilized pure cotton clothes. The little guy and I were arranged in the transplant room in the middle, then passed through an induction door, and there was a compartment similar to the living room, and then our room was the innermost one. Of course, we have to change our shoes every time we enter a place. I, a nurse or a cleaning aunt, need to wear a isolation gown and gloves when entering the innermost room. Every day, rooms and compartments will be disinfected with ultraviolet rays twice, and aunts will also wipe the walls and floors with disinfectant twice. Generally speaking, children with zero white blood cells should be kept in a sterile environment as much as possible.
? Everything in the room has been sterilized. In the transplant warehouse, whenever I feel negative, I think of the movie The Shawshank Redemption. Compared with the desire for happiness and stability, what is more important is the belief and persistence in living.
At first, I could keenly feel the little guy's resistance and his repressed emotions, because we repeatedly told him before we came that we would cooperate, maybe we would exchange rudeness for the threat of dad's company, and maybe we would seduce him with candy in the future. Anyway, in the first few days, the little guy cooperated surprisingly. Watching TV and playing mobile phone became the two most important things to kill time, but almost five days later, the little guy began to take his blood pressure. Taking medicine leads to anger, big or small, which seems to be venting emotions that have been suppressed for too long. As a mother, I can feel that he has been living with his father for two years (I divorced his father after the first bone marrow transplant), and he will be reprimanded as long as he doesn't listen. Of course, I understand that his father is trying to make him more cooperative in taking medicine and injections and learn to be brave, while children have strong perception and poor explanation ability, so they vent.
At first, my reaction was fierce, angry and helpless, but I could see his emotional energy and gradually found a way through serious e-books such as Positive Discipline and Mom Know How to Do it. Slowly, we found a way to balance.
I will play games with him these days, such as forest trap, thorn clan and virus legion attack. He will also do some manual work and draw some pictures by himself, and his mood in the face of injection and blood drawing will calm down a little and improve a lot. I hold him every time negative emotions come. I understand him, of course, I understand his grievances. If I can, I am willing to take this test for him. Now I can only accompany him to face it and guide him well.
I'm still recovering these days. Normally, white blood cells begin to grow after two days, followed by implantation, followed by acute rejection and long chronic rejection. It is said that bone marrow transplantation is an upgrade, which requires chemotherapy, implantation and rejection. In fact, life is the same, and it is also a game of upgrading and fighting monsters. Every time you get through a difficult problem, your equipment will be upgraded once and for all, but it's just a way to meet the mountain and a bridge to meet the water.
Along the way, I have been confused, frustrated and desperate. I remember just hearing a sentence. The so-called 40-year-old confusion means that we will find that confusion is the normal state of life. These confusions come from the inner world or are not influenced by the outside world. We will encounter problems again and again, then find the answer, then encounter problems, then find the answer ... so as to achieve the process of cultivation. I am glad that I know better than many people who live in greenhouses, understand earlier and live more profoundly.
There is a kind of heroism, which is to recognize the reality and still love life. It is said that in the world of adults, there are so many things that are easy to say and often cannot be melodramatic, but I think in the cruel real world, a delicate flower, a touch of green surprise, a word of comfort and encouragement to understand, and a love from relatives, friends and even strangers are all worth living warmly in this world.
Even if the world is gloomy, I still have light and can see the road. Dear, the world is not worth it, but you are.