We came home late yesterday afternoon.

On top of everything else Ivy  had another UTI or the same one as last time, maybe

and another  abscess.

This time forming in her belly where her subcutaneous needles have been going.

They did an ultrasound but said there was not much fluid there.

Of course, I’ve heard all of that before with the chest lumps.

First it’s nothing and then it’s something.

The new doctor said she thought it was nothing too

and that we could go home because Ivy’s cannula had tissued

but I said I was worried

and so she looked again and said it was something.

She spoke to the kind surgeon who said it was something too

and so it was decided that instead of going home

the girl would need to go to theatre to have a needle aspiration.

It was going to be such a small procedure that at first they thought they might do it on the ward

but the kind surgeon knew Ivy well and said it would be too hard on her.

I was glad because needle aspirations are not easy

and with needle anxiety they are not fun.

The anaesthetist was lovely and listened when I said that Ivy had surgery phobia

so she dosed the girl up with midazolam

and we more floated into theatres than anything else.

The kind surgeon said it would be quick and the anaesthetic light

and so he let me stay.

Against protocol

but I was so thankful.

It ended up that there was more than just something.

There was a lot of thick gunk

and the kind surgeon wound up having to do a small incision, rather than a needle aspiration to clear the abscess

and I was glad that the new doctor had listened to my worry.

It was disconcerting seeing all of that stuff coming from her belly

even though I’ve seen it many times when I was nursing

so I focused on Ivy’s little face

and listened to the anaesthetist tell me how watching her son have a tooth pulled made her feel faint

while she stroked the curls away from Ivy’s face with one hand

and deftly cupped the nitrous mask and maintained her airway with the other.

I guess it’s universally hard to watch your child go through trauma

no matter your profession.

In recovery the nurse told me that her son had just turned 29

and had immune deficiency too

and even though my throat closed over and I needed to go outside to regain my composure

after the surgery (does that happen to anyone else in stressful situations? Calm and then after it’s all over – not.)

I felt lucky that we had somebody who understood.

It felt like being bathed in sunshine after a storm.

The new doctor’s fellow came up to recovery

and I asked if these abscesses were going to be an issue from now on

and what that would mean for Ivy  having the subcutaneous infusions.

He said that sometimes we have to weigh up everything and decide if the risks are worth it.

Ivy’s immune system is such that these things will unfortunately happen

but the immunoglobulin and the gamma benefits are much greater

and so we accept that abscesses might (and do) happen.

I’m not sure how I feel about that just yet.

After recovery we were allowed home to wait for the results

and to snuggle with the other kids

and sit around the kitchen ;

able to debrief with hot tea and way too much chocolate.

Coming home is both hard and lovely all at once.

Things change while you are playing hospital

and there are always reintegration issues

and cleaning to be done

but that isolation is instantly gone -

the minute you’re home you are a family again

and that makes me feel happy.

Ivy is happy  too.