Word came down this morning,

 through the forest of doctors,

 that Ivy and I would be staying here over the weekend and probably

Monday too.

It has to do with the number of days of antibiotics she’ll need in order to

give the port the best chance of being saved.

Ivy is better in herself

and I have cabin fever.

 She is playing with dolls and drawing and generally enjoying her days

so it’s kind of frustrating that we are still here.

Frustrating for us

but also frustrating for others, who are finding it hard to understand why

a well child is being kept in the hospital.

It brings up all kinds of emotions for me.

For one, I feel as though we are some kind of burden on the staff,

on the hospital

and on our system.

I feel cranky that people are judgemental towards the length of our stay

but

I kind of feel some strange sense of relief as well.

If Im totally honest with myself -

 I’m scared.

When we go home, I will be responsible for Ivy’s medications.

I will be responsible for that port.

It will be up to me to make sure that we avoid another infection,

 another septic event.

What if it happens again?

The doctors tell me, after having one event, it’s more likely.

That is enough to make me want to wrap her up in cotton wool for the rest of

her life.

Then there is the overwhelming guilt.

You see, I was the one, who put the heparin lock through the port, that day.

I was the one that de – accessed her.

It set off a process that ultimately ended in that scary septic shower.

I know, I know,  there was nothing I could have done differently.

It was a build up of bugs inside the port, that I had no idea were there

and when I pushed the lock in, some made their way into her blood stream.

Knowing all of that doesn’t take any of  those feelings away.

They are so emotional, these hospital stays.

Looking after Ivy’s health feels so overwhelming sometimes.

I know (think) I will be okay but just for today,

 my feelings and my sensibility seem incompatible.