We’re coming up to the end of our stay – the shortest hospitalisation for us ever despite a big operation. That’s equal parts good and scary – good news can be as scary as bad! In a way, it’s more unknown because the last two stays have ended with us knowing we needed to come back for another operation. we fined away thought of his getting well and settled for better. But now he is meant to be fixed and all is well…
The weirdness is twofold. It feels genuinely bizarre to think we don’t have to come back to ward 9 ever again (if the world is kind). Eight months since we we’re transferred by ambulance from New Cross with a suspected reherniation, 5 abdominal surgeries, countless theatre trips, innumerable cannula insertions later, we are intending to say goodbye to being a patient of Ward 9. We are saying goodbye to the nurses who have kept Xavier safe and us sane, the doctors who have saved his life, a miriad of other professionals who have been involved in his care since April when he was just a baby. He has a bag full of plastic bugs named after his wider surgical team who made up Team Bug, a body full of scars, and hopefully no memory of our collective tears.
There will be check ups for here – surgical, cardiology and respiratory and we will come back to visit (I already have their Christmas chocolates to bring in on his MRI date later this month) but it will be as a graduate of ward 9. So why do I feel sick?
Because after any period of hospitalisation where all the scary decisions rest on the doctors and nurses it is always scary to take back that responsibility. There is no nurse a step away to check a temperature, no doctor on hand to check a rash or a mark. There’s no friendly smile when I’m awake with the baby after the baby has gone back to sleep (Tone sleeps like a baby even if Xavier doesn’t).
Because life isn’t always kind. We’re leaving but there are no promises in life. We have friends who’s little ones are still in hospital, friends who’s children are at home but are going through a difficult journey if their own, a family who are facing an important operation this side of Christmas. We have every reason to think we’ll be home and we are so grateful for that. But the future is not promised.
The only consolation is knowing if we do come back, in the near future or in years to come, we’ll be safe here. We’re Ward 9 forever, and forever we will be grateful.
Dudes, my turn!!!
Sooooo my momma has been writing this bloggy about me but I told her that I gotta write my own bloggy too in case she misses out the fun stuff. Like the fact that cheese and beans is good but not if it melts and I might marry Abz or nurse Laura but my first love is Esme.
Anyway, the last week I’ve been hanging with my dudes at Ward 9. I keep leaving to go home but I come back too cos I’m Ward 9 forever and they love me. They always tell me I’m gorgeous but then I cry at them to test their love and they still tell me I’m gorgeous!!
Thursday me and Lincoln went to see Fraser but he always makes me sleepy, he says it’s so Mr S can do his magic stuff to my insidey bits. They keep popping into places they shouldn’t, momma says but Mr S said they aren’t allowed anymore.
When I woke up I was all sore in my tummy and I couldn’t role over or stand up, which made me all grumpy inside so I let everyone know it on the outside too. Momma said its OK to let my brave out for everyone to hear when I’m scared. The nice nurses gave me magic juice to help the hurties but it made me sleepy too so I had lots of sleeps with Linc and Demelza and all my other buds whilst my sore bits got mended.
When I started to feel better momma and daddy helped me sit up so I could play and when I felt sad momma let me lie on her and daddy had to fetch her drinks and stuff. Momma likes it when I sit on her for hours and hours cos she gets a big rest and can sit all chilled but I wiggle lots so she won’t fall asleep and drop me!
There’s lots of fab nurses here and momma said I can’t have a favourite but I do, I just ain’t telling cos I don’t wanna make the others one sad. They all help to look after me, but that means they all do mean things like taking my temperature and I like to critique their performance loudly and occasionally with tears!!! Feedback is very important in a hospital.
It seems ages that I’ve been feeling yucky but today I woke up and it didn’t hurt so bad. I cried at the nurses anyway, to keep them on their toes – you can’t let them get complacent when there’s so many other kids to steal your nurses!! I even remembered how to get myself all standy up so now Momma says the cot sides have to be up unless she’s literally sat right there. She must think I’m a baby!!!
She also said I can go home and we only have to come back for visits and cuddles. Momma said no-one is allowed to poke me if I just come in for visits so that’s my plan. I’m gonna lure them in with my cuteness and my walking and Momma’s chocolates and make sure they love me forever cos they’re all my Team Bug and I’m Ward 9 forever.