I have been dead scared of losing Mikko for half a year now. I've told friends about how I have hidden my tears from the rest of the family by literally crying in the closet so that nobody would see (it's a small walk-in). On days like this it just sucks being an adult. On one hand, I keep a smile on my face and send the kids off on their way to school. All of this is just normal. On the other hand, I am trying not to crumble, desperate to keep the sensation of panic from flattening me.

Two weeks ago, a light appeared at the end of the tunnel. He started electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) a week ago. It was doing wonders, combined with the one-off ketamine injection that he received a week and a half earlier. It really looked like things were looking up.

On Sunday night we were still cordially joking around about the ECT. "Why did they wait so long before electrocuting me," he asked. He managed a smile for the first time in months. "I hope I don't catch whatever the kids have," he said, referring to the gastroenteritis our monkeys were down with. "I probably can't go if I am vomiting."

But he wasn't vomiting. We figured we adults are somehow immune to this one. You know, it never occurred to me to ask what the reason is for the instruction to not eat before anesthesia. But now I know. The point is one can vomit when one wakes up, and after anesthesia, one's gag reflex is impaired. So now he is down with aspiration pneumonia having displayed the first symptoms of the gastroenteritis immediately upon waking up from the ECT.

I am not too worried about him not waking up from his medically induced sleep. I am sure he will, and I am sure he will be better. Physically. I have no idea what this means in terms of the ECT treatment. It is supposed to be several consecutive treatments. He'd be due for his next treatment today. And his fifth one on Friday. Then his final one next Monday.

I worry this means he will have to start over. Knowing him, it may throw him into a deeper and darker depression yet. Dark thoughts cross my mind. Have you ever watched the movie Final Destination? It's like his depression is meant to kill him, one way or another. It's like we can't escape fate. But f*#k that. I don't believe in fate. We make our own path.

For now, I just need to stay strong. I need to not get too irritable at the kids. I need to remember that while they accept that their dad is away (they are kinda used to it), they really need me. In November I told the kids I am visiting the doctor, and my 7-year-old daughter's reaction was, "are you also going to stay at the hospital, Mommy?" That damn near broke my heart.

Now I am going to the doctor in secret. They don't need to know I will (probably) be on stress-related sick leave. Then I will go see Mikko at the hospital. All the kids need to know is that I will be here for them, and that I went to see Daddy at the ICU and that he is (hopefully) ok. I have no idea if this is how I am supposed to go about this. I have no idea where I am supposed to turn for answers. Perhaps someone reading this has experience? Well.... if not, my closet is a great listener!