Monday, April 16, 2012

An ENT reflection

"9th May 2011 - a diary day reflection

Eilidh is sleeping next to me:
A gentle purr.
With a tummy full of Quavers and Jaffas!

She has had her tonsils and adenoids out today and it's all gone well - a little longer in recovery perhaps just to make sure that everything's ok, but she's ok.  Thank God, she's ok.

I didn't think that I was particularly worried about the operation but on reflection I don't think that I had really given myself the chance to think about it.  I became a little more anxious as this weekend progressed and I suddenly became aware that I didn't want to hand her over to anyone else to look after.  I however realised that, once again, I needed to have faith; I needed to place my faith in the doctors and nurses looking after her.  I needed to hold on to my faith and trust in God to be there by her side, carrying her when necessary.  I needed to remind myself that, from the moment that she as a possibility I had entrusted her to God and that, despite the diagnosis of SMA and the hardships of the last year, we are truly blessed to have her in our lives.

So this morning as D worried and needed reassurance, I had to emphasise that I needed to be her mummy; I needed to switch off my inner doctor and just be her mummy - I couldn't reassure him, too.  I also needed to have complete faith in the medical team for I needed to hand over her care to them.

As I carried Eilidh into the anaesthetic room, I did so with faith and I talked to her calmly as the venflon went In encouraging her to breath slowly as the mask was put over her face and as she breathed in the funny smelling gas.  I was calm; so was Eilidh.  She looked beautiful as she fell asleep - just as she does now while I write - and I kissed her with an "I love you..."

12 minutes is all it took: the ENT surgeon said, "big, bad tonsils" and an obstructed nasal passage (from her adenoids).  Minimal bleeding. Ultrasound; less risk of secondary haemorrhage and infection.  But it was all a blur, I just remember feeling grateful that the operation was over, that she was waking up again and that it hadn't been an unnecessary procedure.

Now, as she sleeps I am stunned by her peace and sense of contentment.  Her beauty is breath-taking.  She is a joy and fills my life and my heart full of endless joy.  I am so very blessed"

1 comment:

LittleMamma said...

A really moving post. Your love for Eilidh is so apparent. She too is blessed to have you as a mother. It must be very hard to separate yourself from the 'medical' you and just be the 'mummy' you. You must know things and question things that others of us must not know about, or only have inklings of. I imagine too that the Drs treat you differently and must also be reminded that you are her Mummy. The 'handover' made me well up, I remember vividly handing an unconscious 8 month old H over for his MRI, I still feel sick at the thought - more so now as I know I'll be doing it again in a few weeks when he has his gastrostomy. At least he is 2 now, bigger, stronger and hopefully better equipped to cope. Not sure I'll be better equipped to cope mind, we shall see. There is something so vulnerable about them in that state and every fibre of your being wants to hold them tightly and protect them, yet we have to do the exact opposite and, as you said, but your faith in the medics and in God.