I would like to take a moment to share with you an experience that I had this week. It is a personal experience that happened in our home involving my husband and my sons. I want to remind you that our sons are 27, soon to be 28, 22, and 20. I had to stop and think about the last time my boys had seen their father sick, seriously sick. For the oldest it was when my husband had his back surgery and was on his back for eight weeks. That was back in 1988 and my oldest that that time was seven. My second son was not yet two years old and the baby was just a matter of months. Sure dad has had colds, relapses from the back injury, stomach flues, the usual illnesses we all get, but he hasn’t been floored like this in their life recollection.

My husband woke up two weeks ago with a sore throat. Within three hours he was on his back getting worse with coughing and sneezing. By the next morning we were shoving our favorite daytime medicines down him and the ones that produce a good cough and suppress a non working cough. By the evening he would take his night time medicine. Each day he was getting worse. The coughing would take its toll on the back injury as well. Every morning I would ask if he wanted to go to the doctor’s and each day I would get a “Not yet, I’m getting better, I can feel it.” Well, he never got better. The oldest declared that he was going to the doctor the next day if he didn’t choose to go by himself.
The next morning, he looked at me and he couldn’t breathe. I asked him, “Urgent Care or the ER?” He mouthed the words that he didn’t care. I dressed him, combed his hair and asked my middle son to drive us as I was keeping an eye on my husband. We got to Urgent Care and made our way to the lobby slowly. I see that my husband is struggling for every breath so I call for some help. They do blood work ups, x-rays, breathing treatments, oxygen, and shots. They then call for an ambulance to transport him to the hospital to be admitted. The ER does more tests and my son and I run home for a minute to get things that he will need for a stay. He is diagnosed with double pneumonia, acute bronchitis, and diabetes. The diabetes threw us all off as he has never had a problem with sugar before. His body was under so much stress to fight this off that his sugar went crazy. Of course then the steroids they use to fight this also made his sugar go even higher.

Now, I had to explain the severity of all of this before I could explain my children’s reactions. Watching him go downhill and refusing to go to the doctor’s had the boys on edge and very nervous. They would complain to me, get angry and yell. I was a little put off by the hostility and aggression in their voices, I have to admit that. I would take it all in, not say a word and carry on. Being wound up in my own worries it wasn’t until I was talking to the youngest that I realized that the boys had never seen their father sick. I called a mom/son conference immediately.

The boys were not used to seeing their father at 6’3” and 210 pounds lying vulnerable in a bed not being able to breathe or do anything. After all, this man was invincible, tough, strong, always there and ready. I had to remind them that he was human and suffered from human illnesses. Their aggression and volume came from none other than true fear. One would lecture and get upset about how things in this house had to change with diet and exercise, then a tear as he walked away. The middle son reacts with anger and frustration with kicking a can, yelling and screaming that the doctors should be working faster to cure his father. The youngest waits until we are alone and sits on the side of the bed asking me for truth and hope, then cries.

Have I become jaded to their emotions? I have taken care of my grandfather, my father, my mother, my husband, and of course my children. I know that they will get better as I take care of them or find the appropriate medical care. I have gone through this so many times. But they haven’t. Have I forgotten what it’s like to have that fear? We have to remember that the biggest fear of a child is having a parent die. That fear was realized to me when I was 20 and lost my father. The pain is indescribable.

What I did was mix a little laughter with the nightly news of their father’s condition. Each day I would leave in the morning to stay with my husband and return in the evening around 9ish. I had the boys meet me, usually with some of their friends, at the local chain restaurant for something to eat. Some had breakfast, some had dessert or appetizers and some had dinner. I simply wanted to sit down and relax with a cup of coffee. We would talk about how my husband was doing, what the doctors said today about his diagnosis. This way we were gathered together, everyone got the updates at the same time and was encouraged and relieved with their friends. The first couple of nights were awkward as there were tears not only from my boys but from their friends. My husband is adored and loved by many people and like a father to most of my son’s friends. As the nights went on and he got stronger and better, the boys became more encouraged and happy.

Today my husband is home and the boys spend time with him daily. He is supposed to go out for short walks to help his lungs and they go with him. They know how to check his sugar and what to do about it if it is too high or too low. They have seen and agreed that we are all in for a diet change to moderation. No one will starve, no one will miss their favorites, and we simply do not have to pile our plates high with food.

Hiding a health problem from your sons is not a good idea. Gather your facts about the diagnosis, prognosis and what can be done to make life good for the ailing person and take it from there to teach your sons what has to be done and the information given to you and now to them. Above all, remember that they are fearful of anyone in the family becoming ill. No matter what the age of your son, he will need information and your support for dealing with the illness of a family member. Remember to be there for him.

As an aside, my husband will be fine. He feels better than he has in over a year. That is truly a good sign and we are blessed. My sons are happy and doing their part in their father’s recovery. All is well with the world.