This is heartbreak

I need to get this all out somewhere, so this will definitely not be a cheery post and don't read if you're in an otherwise good mood...that's the disclaimer I guess.

Until this week I did not know that you could physically feel heartbreak. Even as I sit here right now, I feel this aching in my chest. I have to stop myself and tell myself to take some deep breaths, to relax.

It really came out of nowhere. I mean, we knew that Keagen has cancer, that he's in the ICU, that he's not out of the woods yet, but he was improving! Improving.

Monday night I laid down to sleep around 9:30. I must have fallen asleep quickly because the phone ringing startled me. It took me a few seconds to figure out what that sound was, then to get out of bed and answer the phone. It was my mom. She said "Keagen isn't doing very well...I'm not sure if we should go up or not." We went back and forth for a minute. How did we know what to do? There have been many times before that Keagen hasn't been doing well, and he's always pulled through. Frequently I'll call Laura and ask if she wants me to come and she'll usually say "no, I think I'm okay." That night, when Mom called her back, she said yes, we should come.

I threw my clothes back on and my glasses (didn't even comb my hair come to think of it). Hopped in the car and drove to my Grams'. My mom met us there and the three of us left for Madison. We got to the hospital around 11:45ish, the drive seemed to take forever. We got there and they were set up in a consult room: Laura, Dewayne, Craig, Emily, Nurse Angie, and Lauren (another cancer mom). The three of us piled in and gave hugs all around and sat. Laura and Dewayne started explaining to us when the doctor came in. I can't really remember what he said but the gist of it was "we've tried this, we've tried this, we've tried this and he gets better for a few seconds and then goes right back to where he was..." I remember him saying "I just don't see any way that he's going to come out of this." In other words, there is no hope. And then I remember Laura sobbing. All of us sobbing, I guess. and in my head I just prayed. I told God, just one miracle. Would that be too much to ask. Please save Keagen. Please give us a miracle tonight.

Never once did I think that it was time, that I should pray for God to grant us peace and strength. We just weren't ready.

The doctor told Laura and Dewayne that they would keep working on Keagen. They would take the night 2 minutes at a time, until Laura told them to stop. How do I make that decision? She asked. We all thought it.

Laura and Dewayne got to go in and see him. It had been 3 hours since Laura had been kicked out. Since she'd called Dewayne to come up. Since the doctors had started working on Keagen. Several minutes later the doctor came in and said that a couple more of us could go. Mom and I went first.

The second I saw him, I knew. I knew that no prayers for miracles were going to be answered tonight. I held Laura and we stroked his head while the doctors and nurses and therapists bagged him to give him air and injected medicines in through his ports. I held Laura and I whisipered to her "he's already gone." I know. But still, how do you make the words come out of your mouth to tell them to stop. We're going to try one more thing. My mom left to let Grams come in, but Laura asked me to stay. I waited for Laura to tell the doctor that they could stop. I think she waited for herself to say it too. The doctor had us leave to do a chest x-ray, after he looked at it he came in and said "there's just no air in his lungs, there's nothing for us to suck out" there's nothing we can do.

It's okay to stop. No doubt the hardest words that Laura will ever say. But we knew, he was already gone. Laura looked at the clock...it was after 12. He's going to die on our anniversary.

They gave him something to help him sleep and decided to keep him on the ventilator so that, the doctor said, if he tried to breathe, he wouldn't struggle to do so. If he tried. They brought in a double rocker, wrapped him up like a little burrito baby in a white blanket, and laid him on Laura and Dewayne. Laura kissed his head, we all sobbed.

I sat on the couch behind the rocker and prayed. I just prayed for God to get us through this night. Mostly I prayed for my sister. For the pain she was going through, for the strength to get through the night, and the next night, and the one after that. My thoughts wavered between being thankful that he was out of pain. He would never need another IV, he would never spend all night throwing up, or hooked up to a breathing machine. And being so Goddamned mad. Asking why? Why us? Why Keagen?

After a time, after mom's phone rang (carry on my wayward son) many times. I called my baby sister Shalyn. She had been texting us all all night, wondering if we were at the hospital and what was going on. I called her and I said "he's gone, Shay." What?!? "I'm sorry, honey, he's gone." Hearing her sobs through the phone broke my heart just a little bit more. I wanted to be there with her to hold her. Instead, I just told her to breathe, that it would be okay, that he was in a better place.

I went to get my phone, in case. I updated his carepage. I called home. And when I went back in, Keagen was laying on the bed. Everyone was loading up all of Laura and Keagen's things onto carts. We talked about who would drive what vehicles home, so that Laura and Dewayne wouldn't have to drive. We went through the motions, all around Keagen. I rubbed his head and kissed it. We love you so much Keagen. See you on the flip side, I said.

Then we drove home. We got to Laura's around 3:30am. Talked for a few minutes, cried. And drove the rest of the way home. Into bed, but sleep wouldn't come.

It is hard to sleep when your heart is broken.

I know that Keagen is better now. He's running around, laughing, throwing balls with Grandpa. Keagen doesn't have cancer anymore, he is finally better. I am so happy about that.

But my heart is broken for those of us still here. We miss you so much Keagen. Keags. Keagie. Keagers. Always will.