The Raw Side of Rare: Hope, Hustle & Rowdie’s Hospital Halls. Unfiltered Mom Life, Medical Edition

That sinking feeling in your stomach… the one that hits when you just know your kid is starting to suffer again. The signs are there — the pain, the exhaustion, the look in their eyes that tells you something isn’t right. And as a mom, you just know.

Tomorrow, we head back to the doctor. Another long 3-hour drive to see her specialist. Tonight, I’m packing the hospital bag — because at this point, it’s second nature. It’s that “just in case” bag that never gets fully unpacked. It’s a mix of fear and preparation, because if you’ve lived this life long enough, you know how quickly an appointment can turn into an admission.

It’s like a form of PTSD — every time we walk through those hospital doors, my chest tightens. I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve walked in thinking it would be a quick check and walked out weeks later, drained and exhausted. So now, I pack. I prepare. I brace myself.

The life of a medical mom means always being ready — for the worst, for the unknown, for the next round of pain your child will have to fight through. It’s a life of constant vigilance, but also constant hope.

Tonight, the bags are packed. ✅
Tomorrow, we make the drive.
And tonight, we pray.

Pray for answers.
Pray for strength.
Pray for peace — whatever tomorrow brings.