But it wasn’t joyful. I couldn’t be home when the man came to pick it up. I couldn’t even call to SCHEDULE the pick up, Mike had to do it. My wonderful mom sat in our apartment while Mike, Rigby, and I went for a short walk. When we came back, the rocket was gone. She said the pick-up guy was devastated. Join the club.
Madeline COULD. NOT. STAND. wearing a cannula. I couldn’t blame her. The prongs were long and went far up her nose. Who wants that? Plus the tape that held the tubing in place irritated her delicate skin.
Considering how much Maddie and I hated the rocket, it sure was hard to let it go.
Because Maddie had become an active tumbling toddler in her sleep, we’d moved the rocket from her room to next to my side of our bed. That way, I could sleep slightly easier knowing that I was right there should she get tangled in the oxygen cannula that tethered her to the rocket. Of course, being super-paranoid, I was usually awake all night when she was on oxygen. Maddie would sleep in between Mike and me, and her cannula would lay across my body.
Now there is an empty spot in our bed AND an empty spot in our room. To say nothing about the empty spots in my arms, my life, and my heart.