I’m not really worried about Ivy’s operation.
Ok, yes I am, in a kind of normal, ‘my kid is having an operation’ way.
What I am really scared about is the afterwards.
Immy was grey.
I walked into the kitchen about a week after she finished her course of post op antibiotics and she was sitting at the table, eyes flat and unmoving
and her skin was grey.
He mouth was slightly open, her cheek resting on the table top.
I touched her forehead, which told me that this kid was hot but there was no flush in her cheeks, instead she was a mottled grey the colour of dusk, almost.
In nursing we were taught the worst colour to be was grey.
Being pale was not good but being grey was bad, an indication that something sinister was going on.
I called for David.
I picked her up.
Her body lulled against mine like an old rag doll.
“She needs help”, I said and he asked why and I said, “look at her, she’s grey”.
So I took her to the hospital and she was sick.
Septic from her abscessed tonsil that had burst (quinsy). The infection now in her system. An infection that might have stayed in her adenoids, had she not had them removed three weeks previously.
Three weeks she lay in the hospital bed. Not much older than Ivy is but a bit.
Three weeks of not knowing, of watching and worrying, of waiting for her to fight back.
She did.
She was strong.
When William was born, he was grey.
In midwifery we were taught that blue was ok, purple was ok but grey was bad, very bad.
In the NICU he was pink until he had his first big crash and then he was grey.
In midwifery we are taught that if the baby looks mottled and grey that it can be a sign of infection or a sign of cardiac problems.
William was grey.
On the day he died he was ashen.
Ok, so I am worried, in a weird blogging at all hours of the night and into the morning because I can’t sleep kind of way but not for the reasons the doctors and nurses all think.
I don’t want to do grey again.
Posted on August 6th, 2008 by Tiff
Filed under: wig out
hugs - praying for Ivy tomorrow and you too my friend, I wish I could be there for you in person.
Hi Tiff,
Sorry to hear you are having a few stressful problems.
I know, when I first contacted you I would introduce myself properly and we could correspond with each other, both of us being Midwives and all that. I promise I still will. I’ll write to your e-mail which I think is on my other computor which at the moment won’t play games so I am using the lap top.
However if you drop me a quick line in the next day or so and I check my e-mail on this one I will get you address on here.
I too have been having a few health issues that have been keeping me off work, tell you more in an e-mail.
In the meantime, know I am thinking of you and sending you good coping vibes.
Is Maddy your daughter? You could always send her over here and she start cleaning my place. LOL
Take Care
Lots of Love Carolynn xxx
*HUG* *BIG KISS ON THE FOREHEAD* (wouldn’t want to get in troulbe with the hubby, you know) *EVEN BIGGER HUG*
(((huge hugs)))
Keeping my fingers crossed that Ivy comes out a lovely rosey-cheeked colour. Hey, I can hope, right?
Lots of love, thinking of you all. xx
I want to say something helpful and encouraging, but I can’t find my words. I’m just praying, Tiff.
You and Ivy are in my thoughts as you get through the next days and weeks. I pray for no signs of gray, just normal healing changes. My thoughts are with you all.
Massive HUGS from across the oceans! I don’t actually know what else to say, apart from I’m thinking about you all constantly
I’ll be praying for you and your family Tiffany.
I wish I was a pray-er, but I’m not so I’ll just have to give you all my best wishes for tomorrow.
Stay positive, things WILL work out.
I pray for a bold, beautiful colour from your little girl.
I don’t even know what time of the day it is there compared to here, in Boston, but whatever time it is, I am putting out happy little thoughts of a healthy, pink Ivy after surgery.
I can believe it.
Have been thinking of you all this week. Am thinking of you now. Ivy is going to be great. I’ve heard you speak of those doctors in better times (ie when they are not avoiding you, ignoring your instincts or setting loose their alsatian-esque receptionists on you) and I know that while they are yellow bastards, they are smart. She’s in good hands.
Love to you all. xx
Big BIG hugs.
Yep, while logic says all will be well, we remember emotionally the rollercoaster of the past.
Much love and prayers to you and wee Ivy.
Think pink.
Think pink.
No more grey allowed. At all.
Think blue and red thoughts.
I am singing a rainbow for you……
Grey is such an ominous thing… ominous is sound and affect…. I am praying the neither of us ever have to see grey again!!!! Praying that the surgery is productive and that Ivy can be on her way to some “normal”… whatever that is!
Huge hugs from Kentucky!
Amber