Monday, 24 June 2013

Hospital visit

"Why we going to hospital?" Jayden asks as he sits nervously in the back of the car, early this morning. I tell him not too worry as we are just going for a quick check up. I can see in his face that he's not entirely convinced and still feeling anxious going back there. I actually wasn't sure what was going to happen at the visit either, only i knew it was to do with the flu trial and I needed to sign some forms. however i did have a very strong feeling it was for another blood test also as i recalled they had mentioned it before. i was just hoping i had recalled incorrectly and I certainly didn't want to reveal it to him.

So we headed in. That dreadful journey that every time I make, brings back so many very sad memories. The memories of a time I wish I could forget but it's part of my life now. As I drive I remember the feelings during that time and I shiver. I look in the rear view mirror and see Jayden looking out the window with a worried look on his face. I'm hoping he isn't being reminded of those times as well.

We find a parking space easily which is unusual but great so we aren't running late and hoping the nurse we are required to see isn't either. We walk through the car park, up the ramp and into the hospital. Jayden chooses to walk not sit in his pram, i think it makes him feel likes he's more in control. whatever makes him more comfortable.
We reach the lifts, push the down button and wait. Its about now that Jayden is clearly feeling uncomfortable and uneasy and asks me to carry him. I pick him up and hold him tight and wish we never entered this hospital over twelve months ago. That he never got sick and we were back where we were before this nightmare began and a visit to PMH wasn't normal for us.

We go down to 3b, (the basement or bottom of all bottom floors) and walk through the doors. Our nurse is there and it's sadly really nice to see her face. Sad because the reason we know her so well is awful and nice because she is now a friend and a dear one at that. Like her a lot.

Jayden goes off to play with the kitchenette in the waiting room as we chat about the study and what's next. A slightly uncomfortable chat as we talked about Jayden's prognosis. I never walk away from a conversation with a medical professional, uplifted or feeling the least bit positive when Jayden and his prognosis is talked about. Never do I get a "it's going to be ok", "alls going to be fine", "don't you worry about a thing". Never, and what I wouldn't give to have that conversation that did have those sentences in it. This really sucks.

Shortly after the forms are talked through and I've answered the necessary questions she tells me Jayden needs another blood test. Of course. I look over to him and I feel like shit because I never warned him as I was too chicken too. I didn't want to upset him and of course, that's inevitable.

We leave the ward and head to the place where he will have his blood taken. Sadly it's also the same way that we go to the car park so for a moment Jayden gets a false impression that nothing is going to happen and he's going home. I tell him as we approach the room that we are going this way and, he knows. He comes in with me but immediately asks to go home. I know it's going to be ok and quick though as these women are amazing but it doesn't stop me feeling like crap every time we have to do this and we have done it a LOT of times.

They call us up straight away so no waiting and stressing too much and we head in. By now Jayden is really tense in my arms and crying as we walk through the door into the room. The lady doing it today is wonderful, they all are and knows exactly what to say to calm him down. We sit down, Jayden on my lap and wait for the second lady who assists to come in. A Few seconds pass, in she comes, together with one holding his arm and the other putting the needle in and taking the blood and they make the process quick. He's on my lap the whole time, lets out a big cry when the needle enters and continues to cry until its out and we have left the room. He still manages to pick out some stickers before we leave , in between sniffles. Brave little man, truly he is. I love those women there, they manage to make a dreadful situation a lot better than it could be, and we know that from experience. they really are professionals.

Finally we get to leave and stop off to grab a bite to eat and drink on the way home. He's feeling much happier and even more so when he finds out we are now going to visit our favourite neighbour whom sadly isn't our neighbour anymore.

The rest of the day is spent doing the things he enjoys and the morning is quickly forgotten about. For now. I don't think anything my son has been through will I ever truly forget nor him. Etched into my memory every single procedure, treatment, examination, MRI, Ct scan all encompassed into a file labelled "nightmare". I hope that he does though. I hope he has the ability to wipe his mind clean after every awful experience and not relive it every night in bed.

The next time we are due to go into PMH is the 18th of July for his next MRI. Just under four weeks away. As each day we get closer I increasingly get more nervous. The longest few weeks ever.
But all I can do is Hope with all my might that it will be fine. That he will be fine. That no matter what the medical professionals say or think, he will defy the odds. God, I hope with all my might and every inch of my being that he does.

My beautiful little man.
He touches our hearts in so many ways each and every day. Makes us smile, laugh and feel so very blessed just to be in his company. He cracks us up at the dinner table with his incredibly cheeky sense of humour, is always the first one to tell us "what his favourite thing for today was", something we do every night at dinner. He wakes with a smile, goes to bed with a smile, always tells me he loves me before he closes his eyes at night and gives the best cuddles ever.
I couldn't live without that. The special pieces of him that makes him the beautiful little man that he is. The thought of it makes me crumble inside and ache with a pain so great that I truly don't know how a mother does live through such a devastating loss.

I'm sitting in my hallway again, not sleeping. Wishing I could be thinking of something else but all I can think of is my little man today. He has been through so much, and so much worse than today yet with every single thing that happens to him now it feels huge, bigger somehow. I don't know why. Maybe because I feel I have less resistance now, less emotional energy to get on with it. Or just the very real need for it all to stop and go away. The very real need, want and wish for our lives to be the way they were.

Playing at our other neighbours house, Jenny's.

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