December 20 2012
We have lived in Newtown since 1994. All of our children are growing up here. We love this town. When Daniel was diagnosed with his disability and we knew he would never walk...we found a new house and moved from Newtown to Sandy Hook. Our home is surrounded by beauty, country roads, lovely old homes, scenic farmland, horses grazing, and most of all wonderful loving families.
When we lost a young man, a dear friend and neighbor, in 2008 and had to say goodbye to a 13 year old precious 8th grade boy, I remember feeling that there would "never be a moment so full of grief and sadness in our town like the day of that funeral." Our Brennan Merrick, who left Sandy Hook on November 8, 2008 and is missed and thought of every single day.
But on 12/14/12, an enormous storm of tragedy fell on top of those old memories of sadness, joining them and making them grow into a worldwide horror. And the surreal nature that there were more in our neighborhood who would be buried. So many more. Has transformed us with so much sadness and shock. The world responded. And I picture Brennan, in the heavens, holding hands with 20 little children laughing and smiling. I do not envision them sad, I see them as light. As peace. As pure a form of love that there ever could be.
But yet... it hurts. This is my neighborhood. This was my children's school for all of their elementary years. I remember how the little school smelled, looked, and all of the fun memories that are documented in my years and years of photographs of school concerts, events, fairs, Mothers day tea, One school one read, Walking Wednesdays, Brownie troop meetings, Halloween parades, Wax Museum day, and on...and on... and on... Sandy Hook School is part of who we are. Its a very important part of who we are. But its not "the building" it is the people who teach and love the children.
What happened on Friday morning, 12/14/12 tore away at the very core of how much we love those people and that school. And the loss of those precious children was a reality that shocked us, and ripped our hearts out. We all feel sadness, at different levels, at different times... but our town...our entire town of Newtown is grieving, and hurting. The pain is there, in the stores, in the schools, on the streets, in the churches. We can't do anything to reverse time, and all we can do as humans is take steps forward into time.
At the same time, on December 14, 2012 Daniel...who had been home since December 10, after his successful spinal surgery, began to vomit. Began to cry. Began to scream and cry. We took him via ambulance to have his stitches removed and he clearly was upset so the doctor ordered blood work and chest x rays. That was Friday. We we returned every news station showed our town. The killer lived on Yogananda!!! How could THAT be true...so close to our house. And although the names had not been released, we knew that the state trooper at the end of the McDonnell house was not good news, and the state trooper in front of the Pinto house, and the Kowalski house, and a feeling of gut wrenching pain.
And ironically, Daniel was feeling pain. SO much pain. All weekend. He was wretching while our hearts were wretching. And I had all that I could do to keep my focus on Daniel.
On Monday morning, December 17, 2012 at 6:30 am the hospital called to tell me Daniels bloodwork did not look good and that I should bring him in. I decided to take my other two kids out for a quick visit to the memorial and have breakfast before we left for Yale because I knew we wouldnt be coming home. The nurse stayed with Daniel. Sarah decided not to go. And Thomas and I bought flowers and went into town. The amount of reporters and photographers was very unsettling, awkward, and uncomfortable. We wanted to privately do this, and yet there was a circle of cameras focusing on everyone. Had a quick meal at the Sandy Hook Diner and got out of downtown as fast as we could.
The ambulance was called for the transfer, I packed a bag, reluctantly kissed my children goodbye and headed off to Yale Children's Hospital Emergency room. Daniel still wretching, but on heavy pain medication. His wretching was certainly hurting his spinal surgery incision, I'm sure.
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| BALLOONS FROM COUSINS LACY AND JASON CABRAL |
And we were admitted. Monday afternoon to room 242 on 7-2...that is where I sit writing. Daniel's pain was increasing, and they couldn't determine what possibly could be wrong because his incision looked perfect. His lungs were clear. He had no fever. So the doctor ordered a full work up and somewhere in the night they told me he likely had something wrong with his pancreas. The vomitting got worse, and he would not stop crying. I had the pain from Sandy Hook and the pain from Daniel's tears sucking the breath out of me.
We finally stopped his feeds, and let him rest. They sent us for an ultrasound yesterday, and it did verify a very inflamed pancreas. Especially since Daniel screamed when the technician touched his abdomen. Awful.
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| Mac the PMG monkey |
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| Cards from STARR volunteers and classmates at Reed Intermedicate School, Newtown |
Today is Thursday, and I never dreamed we would be here this long. But he needed to be taken off of his g tube feeds, which posed another big problem, his nutrition. He is so thin, and he is healing from major surgery. Not feeding him is making him week. He is pale, feels horrible, can't take a breath without a wince. So they put him back on IV pain medication.
And here we sit. So close to Christmas. Feeling like we did last year when our entire holiday was spent in the ICU. I have nothing ready. Have no gifts wrapped. No cookies baked, No Christmas cards to send. No gingerbread houses made. Instead I'm sitting in the hospital. Praying for my community. Not even thinking about any kind of celebration. Except the fact that its the celebration of the birth of Jesus.
Incredible. The events of this week. In my ordinary blog is description of the most incredible horror our nation has seen. In our little town. In our little school. To our little people and their teachers.
Pancreatitis has caused Daniel great pain. Pain is a term that can be so far reaching, or so specific.
We wait to see what will happen. Daniel may need to have a PIC line placed to receive IV nutrition because he isn't tolerating his liquid formula in his stomach. He needs nutrition in order to heal from his surgery. And I'm simply sitting here, wondering. Praying. Thinking. Hoping.
I have not dared to open the mail, or look at my bank account. I just don't want anymore fear right now. The pressure to get by is relentless, stressful, and my brain is not in the mood. We will do Christmas, I'm sure, for the sake of the children. But we do not feel "tidings of comfort and joy".
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