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.
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.