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Archive for December 2011

Needed.

Christmas this year was a very quiet affair.

The girl and I walked out of the hospital, having picked up a stomach bug

unbeknown to us until Christmas Eve.

Before that I had been running around in a panic shopping haze that comes with last minute discharge

and not being organised.

Not to self: do better next year.

Plan better.

Also; sorry if I infected you, customer service people, with gastro.

I honestly didn’t know that I was sick.

There was less this year -

less of everything.

Less gifts,

less food,

less pomp

but that was okay, I think.

When you’re unsure whether it will happen at all

a quiet Christmas seems just fine.

The kids seemed happy anyway.

Ivy and Noah securing their one wish for a bicycle.

Noah stacking his bike within minutes of his first getting on.

By the end of the day though he was riding as though he had always owned a two wheeler.

The girl was less confident.

Truth is I just wanted to see my Mum

and to be loved for just being my hopelessly flawed fragile post hospital self

and I got that.

 

We lay on the grass, by the beach, near her home

and she expected very little of me.

I was thankful for that,

thankful for her

and that she had provided most of the food -

that it was okay that all I was able to muster was a couple of BBQ chooks and some other sundries.

When Ivy became suddenly, violently sick,

we  just packed up and that was Christmas.

I was so, so tired.

Of course, we were all a little disheartened that the day had been interrupted once more by illness

but truly, it was a lovely celebration.

The days have slipped by in a blur of not very much at all.

DVDs mostly and lying low.

Both Ivy and I are feeling stronger tonight

and I am feeling better in myself -

less teary,

less unwell,

more together.

It’s been kind of nice though, in the comfort  of home

to be allowed to be the weak one for a while.

I needed that.

 

I hope that however you celebrated the days, that they’ve been just what you needed too.

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Kiss-mas.

I’m thankful for all of you,

friends who have followed our journey through another year.

Friends who have supported me in bad times

and celebrated the good times with me too.

Your comments, ideas and your love have carried me much of the time

and I am grateful.

I hope that however you celebrate this season,

it is filled with all that you hold dear.

Mostly I wish you peace and happiness.

In our home, we celebrate Christmas as a time for togetherness.

So, from my family to you and yours,

 

Merry Christmas.

How to prevent jinxing hospital discharge.

We are getting close to discharge here.

Home for Christmas sounds really good.

Home away from all of the doctors and the nurses

and the confusing and differing opinions that drive me crazy

and while I could easily rant about this admission

instead I am going to list some of the things,

some of the pre discharge rituals that we do

to ensure we make it out of here

because I fully believe in jinxing myself.

I believe because it has happened way too often to not.

(It seems okay to write them down though. That doesn’t appear 

to encur the wrath of the jinxing gods).

So, here are my top 10

“things to do so as not to jinx yourself and prolong your stay”.

1. Make sure you send as much stuff home as you can 

but still have enough just in case. 

If you send everything  home, you will jinx yourself

and make your husband cranky because he has to make the hour long trek 

back into the hospital with more supplies.

2. You can pack all of your toiletries away 

on the day that you believe you are going home but whatever you do 

don’t  throw away the soap. 

*Never* throw away the soap.

Discarding soap before discharge will add days to your stay.

3. It’s basically the same with the sheets. 

You can pack up your bedding 

but if you put it in the skip expect the doctor to add more time 

to your sentence. 

4. Never tell anyone you are being discharged. 

Even if you believe it to be true.

In fact, do not even utter the word until you are walking out the door.

5. Fill in the menu for the following two days. 

This will ensure you are not in the hospital. 

If you do not do this, you will instantly be jinxed 

and your daughter will have to eat food that the kitchen chooses for her.

She will not be impressed.

6. Do have thank you chockies and cards ready 

but don’t write on the cards until the last minute.

Writing on the cards too early *will* cause a delay in your discharge.

It just will, okay.

7. Do not joke with the nurses or the cleaner (friend) 

that you love the ward and them so much and that is why you are in - 

because you’ve missed them: instant jinxing. 

8. If you mention home, going home, discharge or the word release 

to the small girl,

or make any plans at all,

expect to have to then turn around 

and tell her that the paed has changed his mind.

9. Never say that the girl looks good 

and if those thoughts enter your mind find some wood  as fast as you can

and touch it repeatedly

and number 10: never ever say that you hope this 

will be the last admission for a long time 

because that will either see you jinxed immediately 

or within days of your getting out.

Always remember the universe has a very strange sense of humour.

Christmas and Ivy will often equal hospital.

To tell you the truth,

I was all ready to come here and wish you all a Merry Christmas,

show you the end product of our Chrissy card

and the photos that the kids (all of them) took part in for said card.

Then I was going to tell you I was taking a blogging break

but Ivy grew another abscess in her chest wall over the weekend

and today we found our sorry selves in Accident and Emergency,

staring down the barrel of more surgery.

The girl has been sick, with the usual high temps and rigors

and today, 

the six and a half hours in the emergency room saw her 

sleeping the bulk of it away.

She’s still asleep now, 

almost twelve hours since we stepped into the hospital.

That’s what she does when her little body can’t keep up - 

she just shuts down.

The kind surgeon came and ordered a needle aspiration, 

a culture of the infected site

and antibiotics

with the possibility of surgery tomorrow.

I’m tired, my friends.

I’m tired to the very core of my existence - 

with worry

and confusion

and the anxiety of having a sick little girl.

This time last year we were in the exact same place, 

although for a different reason

and the sense of dejavu is strange.

Part of me wants for this to be over with as soon as possible,

to get the girl home and the rest of the Christmas shopping done, 

wrapped and under the tree in time for the day

but there is also that tiny little voice that says that we are not getting 

anywhere fast with this intermittent antibiotic coverage.

Whatever this bug is, it’s stubborn and smart 

and we’ve not been able to kill it 

since it first started making the girl sick in September

and if we don’t treat it aggressively this time

we will just bounce back in another three weeks,

when the antibiotics are ceased once again.

I want the girl home for Christmas, yes

but I want this to be the end of it too.

I’m just not sure which I want more at the moment.

I guess for now, I will do what I do well

which is sit in the big green chair and watch and worry

and wait

until we have some answers.

Until decisions are made.

Until the girl is more herself again.