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|Newsletters: Little Brother|
A mother sent in this poem, written by her 11 year old daughter about her brother, to share how siblings are affected by all that HomePEN families go through. Part one she wrote when her brother first went through the G-tube surgery/take-away-all-oral-intake drama and part two was when her mom took him to Cleveland for swallowing therapy. The mother writes “I feel very lucky for the love and compassion both of my girls have for all he has been through!!”
Through the highway we will race,
Down to this horrid place.
To the hospital we go,
Through thunder, lighting, rain, and snow.
I wish I could see him, but I can’t,
Like everyone else, my mother and aunt.
It would be great if he was just fine,
But not him, not that brother of mine.
They think it’s asthma. No, maybe stomach pain,
On to the next doctor, this is driving me insane.
So when he comes out, I’ll say “Hi”,
Until then we have to say good-bye.
I want to say bye to that horrid place,
Good-bye to the doctor’s puzzled face.
And when he is finally asleep in his bed,
I’ll have good thoughts to put in my head.
I wish so much that he was safe and well,
I love him so much, there are no words to tell.
Like any sister, my love for him is deep,
I’ll pray for him nightly before I can sleep.
Little Brother Part 2
Here we go on the plane,
This is driving me insane.
Off to Cleveland we will go,
Though it’s freezing and ten below.
Rainbow Babies is the name of the place,
It takes two weeks ‘cause this isn’t a race.
An electric stimulation is what they have to do,
The number of hours it takes is a dreaded 2!
For three weeks I won’t see my mom,
Nor my Grandma or my brother, so I’ll just have to be strong!
It’s hard when you’re waiting in anticipation,
While some of your family is across the nation.
I love my brother and I hope he gets well,
Like I said before, there are no words to tell.
It’s hard you know him being sick and all,
When you can’t buy him a slushy at the Collin Creek Mall.
I guess it’s not so bad since he’s so cute,
If he gets well his solid-only diet will forever be on mute.
So I’ll end this poem whether you like it or not,
I like what I have and I have what I’ve got.
And, I repeat, to make a long story short- my brother can’t drink,
So when they go to Cleveland he’ll get well. I think.