The Photo You Won’t See on Social Media
She’s asleep in a hospital bed in the trauma room at the local Children’s ICU.
Her hair is tangled, sweaty. She’s put up quite the fight.
Her face is pale, but sleeping peacefully in a way that makes her look angelic.
Her head is tilted to the right, so she can’t wake and see what’s happening on the left side of her body.
Her right arm, a bracelet from the first local hospital, before an ambulance got her here.
Her left arm - an IV. A painful one.
It took 3 nurses plus her mom and grandmother to get it inserted. 5 people. 4 holding her down, the other trying to quickly and accurately get it in just the right spot. She’s a strong little thing and she knows how to throw elbows. It’s a good thing.
But it hurt.
It hurt everyone in the room, especially her.
Under the arm, a splint to keep the arm straight. Over the IV and splint - a Mickey Mouse diaper. A Mickey Mouse diaper hiding the reminder of the pain, the reminder of what’s in her arm, and hiding it from being touched and yanked out. She is so small, the diaper takes up the space of her whole arm.
Her left wrist - two hospital bracelets.
Her entire left arm is covered.
She’s wearing a hospital gown. A tiny one made especially for tiny babies that shouldn’t ever have to be in tiny beds in tiny trauma rooms in the intensive care unit. They don’t belong there. They especially don’t belong in the trauma room.
Underneath the hospital gown is her tiny, naked - bull moose strong - but now frail body. And a catheter. The catheter was just as painful as the IV, for everyone involved.
In her lap - her favorite babies. Her babies are so important to her, and her aunt delivered her favorites. Miss Kitty and Miss Monkey.
Underneath the photo is a medical perspective of what’s really happening. Her tiny organs are shutting down, and her body is preparing to die.
That tiny baby is my non-verbal and autistic, scared out of her mind three-year-old.
….to be continued
-lj
