It’s a memory long gone, distant, nearly a “wives’ tale” in my history. Each day, multiple times, I run small compressors that nebulize medications into particles small enough to inhale. All night long I listen to the hiss and rumble of compressors as they neb water into mist to moisturize the air my twins breathe through their trachs. Alarms sound when heart rates plummet or rise and when oxygen saturation levels drop below a minimum acceptable level….
Throughout the day, when the heat is not running and I am standing far from the fridge, I remember the sounds of the world without motors running in the background. It is those times I hear clearly the laughter, the songs, the joy. The times my children add their voice to the cacophony, it endears all those other sounds to me; the harsh tones which allow my children to breathe & craft their own noise.
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