It’s 5:34 a.m., and I’m worried sick about a chronically ill child
Bearing uncomfortable feelings and distress is part of life.
Light rain falls and the boiler gently hums. I’m enveloped in the protective cocoon of deep sleep, comfortably unaware of my surroundings. I want this to never end. Unfortunately, an image of a wooden stake appears in my dream at precisely 5:34 am. It’s being driven through a purple balloon, and I’m watching it from the inside. The balloon pops and my peace is shattered. Not a surprising start to the day given recent events.
A brief opportunity to roll over and go back to sleep is presented. Not this time, though; the balloon with the stake has made sure of that. I remember the chronically ill child, something I’d forgotten about whilst sleeping. Worry begins to cloud my mind, the way food colour spreads through water. I’ve been here before. Ignoring the advice of every sleep therapist, I switch on my phone and open notes, knowing I will feel better after some writing. So, here goes.
Nothing is more worrying for a parent than a chronically ill child. I had wanted to write ‘Nothing is more worrying than a chronically ill child’ but feared it was disrespectful to non-parents and those in worse situations. War and the conflicts we see around us, unexpected terminal health problems, and domestic violence come to mind; heavy-hitting topics to compare our worries against as a litmus test for worthiness.
I’m a parent of a chronically ill child, and it’s the most worrying thing in my life right now. It’s distressing and hard to accept, and I’m not dealing with it very well. Suffering is suffering, and I find no relief in knowing others have it worse than me. It doesn’t help them, either. I could segue into mindfulness, religion or psychology at this point, but I don’t have any wisdom to offer except that uncomfortable feelings and distress are a natural part of life.
It’s 5:34 a.m., and I’m worried sick about a chronically ill child. It’s not unexplained or anything untoward, but rather a normal reaction to something concerning. Writing about it helps, and so does some mindful breathing. But for now, I need some rest as I’ll be at the hospital in a few hours.
Good night/good morning.
I’m Frank, an autistic software engineer and owner of Better Software UK, a software requirements consultancy.
