Here I sit, two weeks after my own hospital stint, back in this place. I am holding the little hand of my four year old son as he lays sleeping in his hospital bed, finally at peace after a stressful and upsetting day.
I feel like I am being Punk’d right about now. Through the emotional and physical exhaustion my body feels I am trying to make sense of it all. This tired, overwrought and irrational me is wondering what I have ever done to this city to make it hate me this much. Why is it trying to beat me down. As a new friend said to me the other night, ‘it is two steps forwards, one step back’. Yes at the time I agreed but right now I feel like I climb to the top of the mountain only to lose my footing and slide all the way back down to the bottom. I feel like standing on a roof top and swearing the most profoundly naughty words I know (and I know words, believe me) out to this city. I want to scream out ‘what have I done? Tell me, let me apologise, make it right just stop this ongoing punishment! Please’. It feels like it is one thing after another. If it isn’t me getting sick, it is my children. If it isn’t me getting anxious and homesick, it is my children. Then it feels like setback after setback. I don’t mean to sound like an over-privileged whinge-bag, but for the love of god, I am tired. I just need to be cut some slack here.
BB has been sick for a while. Back in my post about going to hospital I mentioned it then. A chest infection. Last week that moved down into his salivary glands which meant getting an ultra sound and wondering if there was something more sinister going on for a brief moment. BB was given some pretty heavy antibiotics to clear it up and along the way some stomach cramps he has been getting for several weeks, have become worse and now a fever has broken out. The doctor suspected appendicitis and we were admitted. No parent wants their four year old’s body put under and cut open. The thought of this turned me cold. The tears have been sitting in my eyes threatening to break free for hours.
Thankfully it is not that serious, but we are still trying to figure out what is going on.
In the meantime the staff on the children’s ward clearly have no understanding of how to talk to a child. Once again too, the inability to deal with needles is highlighted when the nurse on duty tried to put in BB’s IV. She collapsed his vein sending him into a traumatised hysterical meltdown. If you haven’t experienced a collapsed vein from having bloods done or having an IV inserted – it hurts. A lot. Then after that it continues to hurt, and it stays sore for, well, weeks. Mine is still tender and the bruising is almost gone. After this attempt, every time someone came into the room my little boys body would shake as he cried hysterically begging not to have more needles. The nurse in her wisdom looked at him and said ‘stop crying’. To which I replied ‘he is a child, and is traumatised, he is not going to stop crying if you speak to him like that. He is allowed to be upset because you hurt him’. The nurse didn’t like that much, but let me tell you, they haven’t seen the full range of mumma lioness. If they continue to treat my child like a 30 year old with full cognitive understanding, then they will.
So for now I sit here, in this little room identical to my own except this one has views of the mountains which today are clear and really spectacular. There is kiddie wallpaper with little blue elephants, lions and pink rabbits to cheer the place up. I am watching my son breathe, making sure he remembers to keep doing that because as a mum I am panicking and running through old made-for-TV movies in my mind of horrible outcomes for sick children.
My eyelids are heavy, my head hurts, my body is weak with exhaustion. The one thing I am supposed to be avoiding right now. So it is time I guess to snuggle into bed, hold that little warm body in my arms, kiss that blond head, and pray to who it is I pray to. Pray that tomorrow we see a new day, with a sun that shines and we will hear our baby boy’s amazing giggle again. The giggle I realised earlier today, that we have not heard for a really long time now.
12 Comments
Oh you poor love, you're all having such a tough time. As a needle phobic I know how your son feels. Cuddle him tight and hopefully you can both get some rest. Sending you healing thoughts from the UK.
Thank you so much Wendy xxx
Holy crap. My heart reaches out to you as do my arms. I hope he is okay, and you. I know how it feels to feel like the fricken world or something is against you, as I sit here not being able to talk and in pain because my wisdom tooth has decided to go 'and you thought things were turning around, bitch, let's show you something'. Hang in there!
Thanks Janine. As I read my post back I cringe a little because I hate whinging but I'm past caring now. I hope the diagnosis is correct. BB is adamant we are not to come back and he is not having anymore needles!
I pray everything is well and may God Bless you through all of this.
Thankyou Victor, that is very kind. I appreciate your kindness. We are just waiting to go home, my boy is pale and I am not convinced about the prognosis but we will see.
I'm so very sorry to hear that your little one is having such a hard time of it. Words can't even express how I would react to a nurse as crappy as that one. Sometimes people choose the wrong profession.
I hope he feels better and don't forget your protein & REST.
Thanks Sheryl, it is a difficult time however we are home now, and he seems to be improving. We are just working on trying to keep our spirits up now as we are just a little depleted from all this drama. I am also trying to catch up on my rest! Thank you for the reminder!
Big hugs to both of you. It's always so painful to see your child hurting, especially when you are only just recovering yourself. Deep breaths, take stock and wait for the sun to come back into your little ones eyes. #mummyandus
Thanks mummy2mum for stopping by. BB is doing a lot better, his little giggle is back, and it is delightful to see.
Awww, I'm sooo sorry to hear about this, Sarah. I hope your little one feels better soon and that they figure out what's wrong. Hugs to you and if you think it'll help, go ahead and scream it all out. I can understand the frustrations, really I can. I hope it all gets better sooner than later. xoxo
Thanks Joy, my boy is doing a lot better now. Everyday is a new opportunity for something lovely, despite the crappy bits.