He is. We got very, very lucky. I’ve attended too many funerals from our friends who were also there.
If there is a parents smoking-area? Even if you don’t smoke, GO there. The peer-support (to use psycho-babble terms) is off the charts amazing. People to laugh/cry/be normal with. The parent areas elsewhere tend to be “OMFG I need silence”.
Same token? If there are other parent resources (massage, counseling, etc.) hit them up. One of the best things I ever did? Go to a baseball game. I hate baseball. But the hospital had tickets for us, and transport to-from, and tickets for beer, etc. and it was just a NORMAL kind of thing to do, where I wasn’t attached to my pager (we all had pagers, and all had them on us) that created this heaven sent euphoric kind of caaaaalm.
There are 2 kinds of hospital parents (IME/IMO), short & long timers.
Both are hard.
But?
The short timers had it the hardest. As they didn’t know how to access all the amazing resources for not losing you damn mind. Because they didn’t know they existed. But needed those resources the most. We long timers attempted to shepherd in the short timers… as I/we was shepherded in… by others doing the same for me.
Oh… and YES. He’s 20 now, and was 9 then. When he got Covid at 19? We went back. Because we could. (The hospital will see “kids” until 23, or with autism forever). Because we had history there. And he was visited by ALL his old docs, in full PPE, with huge hugs. Children’s hospitals are amazing places. With the best people. But hot DAYUM… the learning curve is almost vertical, and very nearly unique. It’s an intense/impossible place. But also the best place.
And, yeah. We (parents) are nearly all suicidal as f*ck. Because our kids are sick/hurting. And that’s not insane. That’s normal. But what’s amazing are the people who understand. And fight. Like you. Even if you don’t feel that way, right now, or ever. You’re fighting. The whole ‘you don’t know how strong you are, until you have no choice’ thing.
You’ve got this.