Not what I want to hear

Some people remember times and places by a smell or taste.  I am transported back in time by sounds.

There is a high pitched beeping as you walk into Southampton Hospital.  It sounds like the monitors that Georgia had attached to her in PICU.  Whenever I watch any programs about hospitals and I hear that noise, I can see and feel it as though it was yesterday. The smell of the hospital, like antiseptic.  The heat of the wards to keep the babies warm.  The murmur of voices, not being too loud so as not to wake the little ones.

I still can't listen to certain music.  The song that makes me cry every time I hear it was played repeatedly in my car as I drove to and from the hospitals.  'Keep holding on' is very fitting though!

There is a song by Mumford and Sons, it is like the song was written for Georgia.

It is a year this Sunday since we made the trip over with Georgia for her surgery.  I can't believe how fast the time has gone.

Sometimes I wonder why people don't just know what we have been through.  It has been such a life changing experience that I just assume that I look like the mum of a cardiac baby.  I know, that sounds so bizarre.  If you have ever lost someone you love, you tend to wonder why the world has not stopped to grieve with you.  Like the whole world should be as devastated as you.  It was like that with Georgia.  When she was really ill I would watch people and resent them for being so happy when she was fighting for her life.

Whilst Georgia was in Theatre, Rob and I sat in the parents room on the Ocean Ward. 

We waited for 4 hours for news.  In the meantime we needed something to take our minds off it, which turned out to be extremely difficult. 
Rob read a newspaper 20 times, cover to cover.  He would have gone to buy another one but was scared he would miss the surgeon.
I sat and watched 'Friends'.  I have seen them so many times that I could watch them without really watching them!

Dr Viola finally came to see us at about 2pm.  He told us the surgery had gone well and that PICU were just getting her settled, then we could see her.  He then told us that she was a very rare case as her heart is completely back to front and upside down.  They had managed to patch up the ventricles and atrial septum's with part of the outer sack that the heart sits in.  The bad news was that her valves were like nothing he had ever seen before.  They were not the usual AVSD valves, in actual fact they were unrecognisable as valves.  They had put a couple of stitches in to stop the leaks but that would be a short term solution.  She will have to have surgery again.  They have no idea when.

Thinking about it now that was a devastating turn of events.  We were so focused on this surgery being the end of it all.  We naively thought that she would have this surgery then be fine.  So stupid. This will go on for the rest of her life.  She will never be able to do what other children can.  But I bet she will try!

At the time though we were just so relieved she made it through the surgery.  We didn't really think about the future and what this would mean.

One of the nurses went with us to PICU.  It sounds silly but as soon as you walk in you can breathe better, guess it's the amount of oxygen they have floating about in there!  It's so light and fresh, very quiet too apart from the beeping every now and then. 

Georgia was right at the end of the room, exactly the space she had before. 

Even though you think you have prepared yourself for it, it is still the most shocking sight.
Wires and tubes is all you can see.  She was covered by a huge blanket with warm air being blown under it.  She was ice cold and so still.  It was as if she had not survived.  The ventilator was making her chest rise and fall but other than that she was not Georgia.  She didn't return to being Georgia for a long time either.

I realised how much time I had spent at the hospital when it turned into a sort of Groundhog Day.  There was always a man asleep with his face on his laptop in the coffee shop at 7am.  There was always a really skinny woman and a man with no legs out the front smoking.  The surgeons would come for lunch at 12 in their scrubs waiting in line.  The smell of fish wafted down the corridors at 1pm, hospital dinners! 
The best time of day in the hospital was between 7 and 8 pm.  All the visitors had gone and only the regulars remained!  We all knew each other, even if it was just a nod of hello in passing.  It was so quiet that after the emotional days we could sit and drink a cup of tea in silence. 

Sometimes nothing needs to be said.