Facing another Thanksgiving in the hospital brings back memories
Traditions and hope keep our family united, even in unexpected situations
My wife, Cazandra, had complicated surgery last week that required her to spend some time in the hospital, followed by at least two weeks of inpatient rehabilitation. We were in shock, as we’d thought she would spend three days in a health facility and then finish her recovery at home.
When her medical team informed us that she would be an inpatient for at least another two weeks, I took my phone out of my pocket and looked at the calendar. My heart sank as I realized her time in the hospital would extend through Thanksgiving.
“Oh, no!” I thought. “Not again.”
We’re no strangers to Thanksgiving in the hospital
Part of me wanted to scream out as I remembered how often my youngest son, Caeleb, spent holidays on the sixth floor of the University of New Mexico Hospital, where the special pediatric unit was located. My boy was between 6 and 9 years old when he experienced frequent extended hospital stays due to internal bleeding episodes in his right knee and ankle joints. He’s now 18 and a freshman at the University of New Mexico.
Back then, Cazandra and I tried to combat feelings of sadness by bringing holiday traditions to the hospital. We hoped to celebrate as normally as possible. One Thanksgiving, my oldest son, Julian, who was 16, went with me to purchase a feast at a local Denny’s restaurant. We returned to the hospital with turkey, stuffing, candied yams, mashed potatoes, and a pumpkin pie.
We filled our paper plates with our delicious meal and continued our usual activities associated with the holiday. Our table looked quite different from the one at home. Caeleb sat in his hospital bed, while Julian, Cazandra, and I gathered around a little tray table. Before we started eating, we took turns expressing our gratitude. We agreed that having our family together was the greatest gift we shared.
Our commitment to our traditions was a powerful statement to hemophilia that it could not dictate our holiday experience. Despite Caeleb’s ongoing struggles with the bleeding disorder, we were determined to show our sons that the condition, while a part of our lives, did not have the power to crush our spirits. We would enjoy each other’s company, even in a hospital room.
Despite feeling overwhelmed and unable to imagine ever having another holiday outside of the hospital, we always returned to one powerful force: hope. We learned that hope wasn’t just a four-letter word, but a reason to move forward, a beacon that revealed that the darkness was not our final destination. If we held on tight enough, we would discover the light.
Our resilience in the face of adversity was a testament to the power of hope.
Our unity at the table kept us grounded and connected. We remembered those who came before us, including generations that kept family traditions alive in the face of adversity. Our joy and laughter rose like incense, offering a sweet smell of love and happiness in a challenging situation. My wife and I hoped our sons would remember the significance of maintaining traditions, even when we are no longer physically present.
Maintaining traditions — with one key difference
Times have changed, and Julian, now 28, gathered with his younger brother and me to discuss the unexpected Thanksgiving twist. He said, “Dad, remember that we celebrated many holidays with Caeleb in the hospital. We will still have a great meal. We may need to go to Denny’s to get turkey, stuffing, candied yams, mashed potatoes, and a pumpkin pie.”
Caeleb quickly chimed in, “Dad, we’ve got this. I know that we observed almost every holiday, even when I had a spontaneous bleed into my target joints. Now, we have to do it for Mom. Let Julian and I take the lead on our meal.”
Overwhelmed with gratitude, I couldn’t help but shed a tear or two. My amazing men had listened and taken our lessons to heart. Even though I feared at times that they weren’t listening, they were.
Our Thanksgiving will take place in a hospital, reminiscent of old times, but with one major exception: Julian and Caeleb will be taking charge of the feast. We will gather around a hospital bed and tray table, honoring the traditions we maintain as a family.
We look forward to this Thanksgiving with a unique appreciation for giving thanks in all circumstances — a testament to our enduring hope and resilience.
Note: Hemophilia News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or another qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Hemophilia News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to hemophilia.
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