Ugh! 2024. Between the election horror show, the extreme weather patterns and unprecedented health issues, whew, am I glad it is over!
My baby niece, Anaya, spent most of December in the pediatric intensive care unit. All of 18 months, this little girl was hooked up to a plethora of machines, intubated, sedated and put on respiratory ventilator support. For 3 harrowing weeks, her parents spent sleepless nights at her side, stunned by a seemingly innocuous viral infection devolving into something life threatening. We rushed to support them as well as care for Anaya’s twin sister, Maya.
Finally, on January 4, Anaya came home. She’s still frail, needs a lot of support and therapy, but she’s home and being coddled by grandmas galore.
My sister and her husband (both physicians) practically tailored treatment plans and supportive regimens with the Intensive care team. They pored over research papers and took part in every discussion, both diagnostic and therapeutic.
And I wondered. In times of medical crises, is it an advantage to know to decode all the graphs and jargon? Or does it erode one’s sanity, knowing all the thousand ways a bad thing can become worse? I asked my sister, and she shrugged. No longer in the eye of the storm, she’s thankful to get a decent night’s sleep and play with her chunky toddlers.
I’m just glad 2024 is behind us. Good riddance.
