We have had so many hospital appointments with Ashley this last week so I have just been too tired to write my blog. We have a lot of trouble with overcrowding at the children’s hospital so appointments can often take up to 4 hours with trying to find parking and waiting for our turn.
On Friday I was having a particularly bad day – at least I thought I was. I had spent 45 mins driving around and around the hospital trying to get parking and it was pouring with rain. When we finally got into the hospital the lady on reception at X-ray was rude to us (this doesn’t happen very often) and the two clinics we has to attend were both overcrowded.
Trying to keep Ashley and the baby entertained in a waiting room with no toys, no tv and insufficient number of chairs was proving a challenge. After 3 hours I was convinced that this was the most horrible day I had had in a long time – and then I saw Debbie.
Debbie is one of the mums I know from Parent Focus. Her little boy also has CP and he is such a dear little thing. You know when you meet some kids and there is just a special sweetness about them? That is what he is like.
So here I was feeling sorry for myself when a hospital bed gets wheeled past me with this little boy on it. There’s oxygen on board and he doesn’t look like he’s even conscious. I didn’t even recognize Debbie at first (extreme stress can alter someone’s appearance quite drastically). Her little boy had contracted a virus and Doctors didn’t know what it was and how to treat it so he was being subjected to a barrage of tests. When your child has special needs what can be a sniffle for another child can turn into a life threatening condition very quickly.
What a reality check it was. I wasn’t having a bad day. I was having a frustrating day, even a boring day but it wasn’t bad. Even though we were at the hospital my children were healthy and we were going home in a few hours.
When the twins were on the neonate ward we used to dread the appearance of the screens that would appear around one of the cribs on the ward. When nothing else could be done for a baby and death was imminent, the screens would be wheeled into place to give the family some degree of privacy to say goodbye. The screens meant that another poor little soul was leaving us and the family, who we had sat next to and chatted too, would leave broken hearted. The screens were a reminder too that we weren’t safe either, that it could so easily be us next. Thank god it wasn’t!
I have always found the hospital to be a tremendous leveler. Even on your worst day, there is someone else there having an even harder time. It makes you put things back in perspective and query just how bad are things really?