Memories

When we bought our house it was for life.  I had honestly thought that we would be there forever.  So, being in the position we are in now is frustrating.

Losing our house was devastating.  It was our home, our investment for our children.  Now its all gone.

Walking around the house the day we were repossessed was awful.  It was a shell of the house we loved, empty.  I felt completely defeated.

I relived memories.  Having flashbacks in every room as I said goodbye.  Joshua's bedroom; goodnight stories and songs to send him to sleep.  Georgia's bedroom; sitting up for hours, terrified.  The kitchen; Rob and I trying to deal with the diagnosis.  The dining room; Georgia's first smile, Joshua's first steps.  Finally the living room.  The only vision I had in that room is one I will never be able to get rid of.  Georgia lying on the floor, blue, not breathing. 

As I walked away from the house I had hoped I could leave that memory behind.  Unfortunately it is still there as if it was yesterday.

So, fast forward eight months and here we are, in a rented house.  It is freezing cold and no good for Georgia.  We cant do anything about it. 

I am now looking for somewhere else to live.  Is this how it will be now?  Constantly skipping from one house to the next?  I would say we miss the stability of having our own home, but it was just as unstable as this one.  I suppose I miss feeling stable, even though we actually were not.

I have been to see two houses so far.  They were both awful.  Both full of mould and nicotine stains on the walls.  I don't want either of my children living somewhere like that, especially Georgia.  I guess I am just going to have to let her health be affected by where we live for a while.  The council don't see us as a priority.

No mortgage for us either for 6 years.  Bloody bankruptcy.  Although, we would never be able to get a deposit anyway.

So for people like us we have no option but to live where we can and make the best of it.

We have the community nurse coming tomorrow for a cough swab to see if we have won our battle against that pesky psuedo bug. 

If not then its off to Southampton for IV's. 

They want to do her surgery to remove her tonsils and adenoids in December so perhaps they might link the two together, I hope so.

Anyway I am off to see two more rentals tomorrow, maybe I might find one that is not totally disgusting! 

Who do we love?.........

...........Peppa Pig!


Huge, monumental breakthrough! 

I gave her physio, she didn't cry!  Not even a whimper!

I am so chuffing happy about this that I am grinning.  I know it is only a small thing, and tomorrow we will probably be back to screaming again, for now I am happy.

So I decided to take her unawares.  She was happily sitting watching Peppa Pig, WHAM, stuck the mask on her face.  She tensed slightly, then just sat back and relaxed.  All the while pushing the air out with every breath, making her lungs stronger. 

Is that just the most beautiful thing you ever heard?.........Probably not.  But it is for me!

A massive breakthrough.  I feel like a weight has been lifted. 

Now I am a little scared that tomorrow this may not happen.  We will have to do exactly the same sequence of events.

All squeamish people, read NO further.

I know that the physio and antibiotics are working though as the amount of gunk coming off her chest is amazing.  It sounds like there is only one drummer in there now, as apposed to thousands!

Story of the day:  Josh wanted to pinch a bit of toast from Georgia's plate earlier and as he went to grab it she sneezed on it.  It put him right off.  Am sure there is a moral in there somewhere!

Before I go, I would like to send love to Gemma (lungsbehavingbadly), and thank her for her advice and support.  You truly can relate to today!

PCD is here to stay

I think I may have underestimated PCD.

For two reasons really. 

1)  I assumed that nothing would be as bad as heart disease.

2)  I was very naive.

All of a sudden this deadly disease has reared its ugly head.

I was told by someone at some point to not look on the internet into the problems Georgia has.  This was probably the worst advice.  I wish I had looked.  I would have understood what the diagnosis of PCD meant for her quality of life and it would not have been such a shock when she became ill.

We have a visitor.  Pseudomonas.

This horrid little bacteria has set up home in Georgia's lungs and decided to make itself known to us via a cough swab she had done.

I was so shocked.  She had a little bit of a cough and was generally unwell but I didn't for a second think it was anything but being a little under the weather.  Note to self - she will never be just a little under the weather.  When she gets ill, she is really ill.

I would imagine this little bacteria has come from Josh being at pre school and bringing it home.  Mainly as Georgia has not really been out.  Now it has turned to winter we don't take her out for long amounts of time.  So all you mummies and daddies out there that send your kids to school when they are feeling ill, remember that they could be spreading those germs to poorly kids like Georgia!

So now we are on a course of oral antibiotics, not nice ones either!  This is the start of our battle against the pseudo that has taken up residence.  After the course we will have another cough swab done to see if we have won or not.  If not, off to hospital we go for IV antibiotics.  Anything to blast this little bugger away.

This is my first meeting of this particular bug, from what I have read it seems to be a tricky one to get rid of. 

All of a sudden I am more scared by PCD than I ever was of the heart problem.  She is going to be coping with this for the rest of her life.  There is no surgical fix like there is for her heart.  That's frightening.

I know you are all going to say that it wasn't but I feel like this was totally my fault for not being more forceful with physio.  So I have morphed into 'mean mum'.  She may not like it, she may scream and hit and kick but it is for her own good. 

I keep hearing from everyone that it will get easier. WHEN??????

So far every physio leaves us all exhausted, physically and emotionally.   I know it is just something we have to do.  I just wish I didn't have to fight her all the time to make her better.

Safe to say I am having a hard time with PCD at the mo.

It took so long to get a diagnosis for it, I really didn't understand the implications.  Even when she was diagnosed I just shrugged and said 'oh well, just another thing for her to battle'.  I didn't know.

Sometimes I feel really stupid. 

I don't know if anyone else feels this way.  Her respiratory team are fantastic but are miles away.  If it is anything urgent I have to go to our local hospital.  I have taken to carrying around the PCD leaflet, I am so fed up with explaining what it is. After reading it people just seem to underestimate the condition.  I told one particular doctor it is a chronic lung disease and she looked at me as though I was crazy.  I suppose that as she had not heard of it, I must be lying.

You say Cystic Fybrosis, people know exactly what you mean.  Everyone has heard of it.  Mention PCD they think you are talking about the Pussycat Dolls.  Its so frustrating.

Anyway, sorry about the rant.  I am only just discovering the wonders of PCD myself, it sucks.

On a lighter note Georgia has finally started forming words.  'Hello' is a favourite.  She also has become very artistic, she loves colouring in the walls!  Best not link my landlord to this blog now!

Midnight Adventures

Sometimes there is no warning.  Just when I get comfortable and feel secure, all of a sudden, out of the blue, a massive wake up call.  Literally.

Georgia had a bit of a cough yesterday, nothing out of the ordinary, just the normal trying to clear her chest.

At 2:10am this morning, I sat bolt upright in bed as if I had been shocked.  I have no idea why.  Maybe I heard the cough, or maybe it is just intuition.  I could hear that rattling breathing echo through the baby monitor, my stomach contracted in fear as I was catapulted back 31 months.  I had got so used to Georgia being well.  Complacent is more the word.  I had finally stopped setting up a hospital bag for her, just in case.  Well that was a mistake. 

To say I was terrified of entering her room is an understatement.  I didn't hesitate at all, but the fear was still there, just as it always has been. 

Her breathing was strained.  She was having no problem breathing out, breathing in was like she was trying to suck air through a blocked straw.  She was all blue around the mouth but with bright red cheeks.  I started mentally packing a hospital bag and mentally preparing myself for one of our midnight hospital adventures.  Firstly, I needed to decide if she might need oxygen, this would require the wonderful help of the ambulance service.  I woke Rob up to ask his opinion.  We decided that I should take her.  So, I called the children's ward as I packed up her bag.  Desperately trying to wake up so I could think straight.  I know now that I was still not fully awake, I left the house without shoes on!  Don't worry I am not totally crazy I did go back in to get some!

I am just so out of practice that I forgot my little hospital routine.  Whilst driving there in the dead of night, all I could think about is the amount of times I had done this trip.  Just Georgia and I.

The doctor decided that she did have a chest infection and that she should be fine with calpol.  Which then sent me into the ravings of a sleep deprived worried mother.  So we came home.  Georgia is still not well.  It sounds like little fireworks are going off inside her chest every time she takes a breath.

Every time I leave St Marys at night I get this weird feeling.  Its so quiet and spooky walking across the car park.  To me it feels like I am being followed.  It doesn't help that they have a freaky looking clown statue outside! 

It feels more like someone wants her.  Like they are waiting for her.  I hate it.  I get this feeling a lot.  Like she has an invisible stalker.  I mostly get it at the hospital.  Well, bugger off, you cant have her.

Our midnight hospital adventures are something that will be with us for life.  Last night has taught me a huge lesson.  We are not normal.  We will never be normal.  No one knows about our adventures, or how it feels. 

I wish we could be normal, to have a simple life, no complications.  It is just never going to happen.  For now, it is something we do, together.

Angels

I haven't blogged for a while.  I suppose I didnt really feel the need to anymore.  I have got most of my troubled memories off my chest.  Or so I thought.

Just one conversation can take me back to a way of feeling.  For the person in question I was talking to I will not mention what was said.  This conversation completely took me back to being pregnant with Georgia and having to make the decision to keep her not.  As hard as it was, it was also easy.  That sounds bizarre but in that situation all I could do was imagine how it would feel to be holding my baby when she was no longer alive, to see if I would be able to cope with the knowledge that it had been my decision to do that.  Don't misunderstand me, I can understand how that decision can be made.  I wonder if, had we known how hard it was going to be would we have made the same decision?  Who knows. 

My heart breaks for the women who don't get given the choice.  That just lose their babies with no warning.  That, for me, would be harder than anything we have been through.  We have been granted time, time to know her, time to love her, time to show her she is our world.  For that I am so grateful. 

So I am having a day feeling torn between feeling great for having our little Georgia and feeling sad for all the ladies that only knew their babies for a short time. 

These women should be recognised for the strength they have.  I am not sure I would cope.

Black clouds and glowing toes

I always told myself I didn't suffer with depression.  I fought it for years.  It's like the silent disease. It doesn't give you any warning either.  One day I can be perfectly happy and just getting on with life, then the next I wake up with a huge black cloud around me threatening to suffocate me.  I suppose it has always been there, I just never acknowledged it before.  The thing is, you cant see it.  I have always hidden it really well, but now it has started to seep through to everything.  I feel so alone most of the time, even though I am surrounded by people. 

Nobody really understands either.  It's a selfish, lonely, unbearable disease that makes it hard to function.  I tried tablets, they helped for a while.  I tried therapy, but I felt like I was being too self involved.  So now I just live with it.  The good days outweigh the bad, for now.  If it ever gets to the point where it takes over then I will have to do something about it.  After all, when I am under my black cloud I am really difficult to live with. 

I took Georgia over to Southampton a couple of weeks back.  She needed to have a sleep study.  I was so nervous.  It has been quiet a long time since she has had to stay in hospital overnight. 
The afternoon that we were due to leave I was rushing about trying to pack everything she may possibly need.   

It was not just the staying in hospital really.  It's also that extra hour on the ferry where I need to keep her entertained.  It cost me a fortune to get the ferry over.  Yet another expense when we struggle to even feed us all.

Georgia was so good though.  She is so well behaved, we are lucky.  She fell asleep at 7.30pm and we managed to get the monitors on her without waking her up.  I laid on a camp bed beside her cot just watching the little glow of her sats monitor through her sock.

The doctor on the ward came in to see us at 10pm.  She said she needed to listen to Georgia's heart.  Why she couldn't have done that when she was awake I will never know.  Of course, she woke her up.  Georgia was then awake until 3am.  So it was more of an awake study! 

In the morning we were both so tired.  I packed our stuff and was out of the hospital by 7.15am.  By 8am we were on the ferry, finally arriving home at 9am.  It was a long night.  But it is done now.  Thank god.

So the results have shown she will probably need her tonsils and adenoids out.  Easy for any other child.  Not for Georgia.  I keep having horrific flashes of ventilators and a little blue Georgia.  What if they try to take her off the ventilator and she has another collapse?  I know she is stronger now but I really don't want her to have to go through that again.

We have 3 appointments in September over in Southampton.  I have no idea how we are going to pay for the ferry.  We can't afford to pay our bills, let alone travel.  We have been made homeless once, I think it's soon to be on the cards again.  I don't understand how other people cope.  It's not like we go and splash out.  All our clothes have holes in them, the kids have been playing with the same toys since Christmas.  We never have a holiday, we never go out to places that require money.

Where is the help for the people that really need it?

Is she just unlucky?

To look at Georgia now, you would never know.

You would expect that the pain she suffered would show in some way.  I don't know how, but I expected her to always carry the horrifying experience with her.  Up till now, there is no trace of it.  Maybe it is because I carry it with me.  It's probably more because I carry enough for both of us!  I prefer it that way.

I don't think Josh has any lasting memories of any of it really.  I am pleased about that.  He is young enough to forget, or not totally get the gravity of certain situations.  I would be devastated if he remembered her going into respiratory arrest.  It was frightening to us, imagine how it felt for a 3 year old.

After Georgia was released from hospital, I was just waiting for the next drama to happen.  When it didn't, I felt a bit lost.  I know it sounds stupid, but I felt like I had nothing to fight anymore.  So what I did instead was re live everything that had happened.  I started to drive everyone insane with my constant chatter, I repeated myself all the time.  It was my way of dealing with it. 

That is one of the reasons for this blog.  I don't have to drive everyone crazy, I can write it here and then it's done.

This way, our journey is forever told.  It's a comfort to me to know that I have shared it, as awful as it was.

I know we are not finished yet.  I know there is more but my little family is doing well, for now.  We are happy.  Happier than we have been for a long time.  It has put things into perspective.

Before Georgia's surgery, she had a nasal brushing done to test for something called PCD.  Primary Ciliary Dyskinesia is a respiratory disease that would cause the symptoms she was showing.  Blocked nose, coughing, constant chest infections and colds.  The nasal brushing is just a tiny little brush that looks like a cotton bud for a Barbie, being brushed round the inside of the nose.  It doesn't hurt, it just is very uncomfortable and made her eyes water.

Unfortunately the test needs to be done when the patient has no virus, Georgia always had a virus! 

Obviously, the first test was inconclusive.  So we travelled over to Southampton again to get another test.  Again, they couldn't diagnose. 

Our lovely PCD nurse, Amanda, gave us a course of antibiotics to give Georgia.  This was to try and get a good brushing and hopefully get her diagnosed.

Again, this shows the determination of the staff.  Amanda was brilliant (and still is), she had a feeling that Georgia did have PCD.  She finally took Georgia's case to a meeting of all the PCD specialists.  We finally got the diagnosis.

PCD is still in the research stage.  To treat it, Georgia is on constant antibiotics (to stop any infection) and I have to do daily physiotherapy.

My GP once told me that he thinks physiotherapy is a load of rubbish that was made up to get money out of people.  Well he is wrong.  If he saw the difference in Georgia since starting physio he would eat his words.

I am not saying the physio is easy.  It's awful.  I have to hold a little mask over her nose and mouth for 5 minutes a time.  At the moment I am only doing it once a day but I will have to do more soon. 

Georgia screams.  She thinks I am trying to stop her breathing.  On top of this, I worry that I am putting more stress on her heart.  It's a vicious circle.  It's good for her to cry as it builds up her lung strength, it's bad for her to cry as it puts pressure on her heart.

I now have a nasal spray for her too.  It shoots a small spray up her nose to unblock it.  It seems to be doing the trick.  She quite likes that too, it's not as bad as physio.

I read an interesting theory.  If you are not interested in the science of it, then skip this last bit! 
The cells that are created when you are conceived, are cilia.  As Georgia's don't work as they should, they created her the wrong way round.  The heart is the first thing to develop.  Maybe PCD is the reason for all of her problems.

Rob is a carrier of the PCD gene, so am I.  You need both parents to carry it.  Josh was lucky, Georgia wasn't.

Happy home?

The day Georgia came home was a mix of emotions.  I was happy she was home and we didn't have to keep juggling our lives.  I was scared that I was going to do something wrong and not look after her properly.  I was worried that I wouldn't notice when something was wrong.

Sometimes life gets in the way of everything else.

2 weeks later Georgia, being the little monkey she is, pulled out her feeding tube.  That's the thing with her, she will only do things when she is ready, you can't force her.  I made the decision there and then.  I was going to leave the tube out and see if she got hungry enough to eat.  I know that is a quite harsh way to do it, but if I didn't then she would depend on the tube forever.

All day I tried her with a bottle.  All day she refused.  I started to doubt myself by the evening.  I was planning to try her one last time, if it didn't work then it was another trip up to the hospital. 

I packed a bag for her.  With a baby you take so much with you everywhere you go, with a heart baby you take everything bar the kitchen sink!  While I packed it, Rob tried her with a bottle again.  She drank it. 

Sometimes I need to just give in and let Rob do it.  It's not that Georgia prefers him, it's the fact that I had tried all day, and every time I got more and more stressed.  She could feel it.

So there you have it, again she does things in her own time. 

From September to December, life felt almost normal.  Georgia was still getting chest infections every 2 weeks and we still had the odd trip up to the hospital with her, but it was as if everything had slowed down.  It was not so out of control.

On Christmas eve, we received our repossession court order.  The bad times were not over yet.

We had done nothing but worry about the house and our debts, all of which we incurred when Georgi was ill. 

Rob and I were declared bankrupt on the 26th Jan 2011.  Our mortgage was to be included in it. 

We had to vacate our house on the 15th March 2011. 

Now we were homeless. 

Little miss smiles

Georgia was finally moved back onto the Nursery part of the Ocean ward 31 days after her admission.  She had been weened off morphine but was hanging on to the last little bit of oxygen.  If they took the oxygen off her, then her sats would drop slightly. 

She had started smiling again.  Really big beaming smiles.  I was so proud of my beautiful little brave girl!

One morning when I arrived on the ward, I was told she had been completely off oxygen for 6 hours in her sleep. It hadn't affected her sats and she was doing well. 

When they did ward rounds, the consultant told me that Georgia could return to our local hospital the following day!  She was still on a drug for hypertension and needed to be weened off it, they knew that our local hospital would be able to do that.

From my previous experience at our local hospital, I was worried. 

Although I wanted nothing more than for Georgia to come home, she was safer here than anywhere else.  They had saved her life so many times.  What if her airway collapsed again? 

The next day, Georgia was to be transferred by ambulance over the water.  Closer to home.  I had so many emotions that day.  I was devastated to be leaving all these wonderful people.  I also felt exceptionally guilty for leaving the parents that I had made friends with. 

Mike was travelling over with Georgia in the ambulance, as he was the only one she would behave for!  I followed in my car. 

As we were leaving the ward, we had so many people to say goodbye to.  I cried the whole time.  It's not that I didn't want to leave, its because these people went through the hardest part of our lives with us.  It felt like I was taking Georgia away from the people that loved her as much as I do.

By the time we got to St Marys I had pulled myself together.  It was weird being back there.  It was like it had changed.  We had been through so much since being there last. 

It was only as I was leaving that evening that I realised.  It wasn't the place that had changed, it was me.  I have become who I am supposed to be.

Georgia has given me that.  I am now more patient.  I know that life is too short to waste it.  If Georgia can be so strong, then so can I.

Even though we were back on home ground, Georgia still had some battles to win.  She still had a feeding tube and we were trying to get her to take a bottle.  It was hard for her as she had lost the ability to suck.  She needed to though.  No food or drink ever passed her lips.  She constantly had a dry mouth, we used to have to change her tube and stick it back to her face.  We also had to swab her mouth to moisten it and put Vaseline on her lips to stop them drying out.

We were told she would never drink from a bottle after having lost the suckling.  Luckily that was a very stupid think to say to me.  I was then all encompassed with getting her to drink. 

Georgia would love to sit outside by the duck pond at the hospital.  She had been in hospital for 36 days, this was the first bit of sunlight she got.  I would sit there watching her with a ghost of a smile on my face.  She would squint up into the sun and smile. 

She appreciates the sun, the air, the trees, the clouds.  All the things we take for granted.

Rehab

Georgia was on the ventilator for 7 days.  When they took her off the second time, they decided to give her something called CPAP.  Basically, it is just another form of ventilation, it's just less invasive. 

This seemed to do the trick.  As it was pushing air into her lungs, it strengthened the bronchial tubes that were the problem before. 

Finally 3 days later, she came off CPAP and was breathing on her own.  She was still being given a small amount of oxygen through her nose, and she was still on morphine for the pain.  They wanted to send her back up to the Ocean Ward so the nurses there could try and ween her off both.  If it was stopped straight away then she would crash.

The day she was being sent back to the Ward was the day Rob came to visit her, after not seeing her for a week.  I had spent every moment with her, trying to make her smile or at least acknowledge I was there, I got no reaction.  She was still in her world of pain.

The moment she saw Rob, a small shadow of a smile passed her face.  I have never been so happy in my life.  She smiled, a small smile, but a smile!   Of course I was a bit miffed that after all my hard work it was Rob that caused it.

She went from strength to strength after that day.  I thought that finally we were on the road to recovery and could go home!  I was so pleased to be back on the Ocean Ward, with a smiling Georgia!

Then they started to reduce her morphine.  She had been on it so long, she had started to depend on it.  It was like my baby was in rehab.  The day they reduced it, it was only by a tiny amount.  She screamed for hours on end.  They finally sedated her in the evening, partly for me to have a break, mainly for her to get some sleep.

When she finally drifted off in my arms, I slowly lowered her into the cot and gingerly stepped away.  I know she was sedated but I was so scared she would wake up and scream again!  It was only as I got a few meters away that I exhaled.  I hadn't even realised I was holding my breath.

My whole body hurt.  Probably nothing compared to the withdrawal pain she had.  I was so mentally and physically exhausted at this point.  I had hit a wall.  There is always a moment when it all catches up, this was it.  I went back to the house and fell asleep instantly.

I hope it doesn't sound too heartless but, the next day, I didn't want to go back.  Not if it was going to be another day like the day before.  My feet felt like lead as I dragged myself back to the ward with a heavy heart.

I could hear her screaming before I even entered the ward.  On the plus side, all this screaming would strengthen her lungs! 

The only nurse she would be content with on the Ward was Mike.  She is a big softy when it comes to men!  So for most of the day, Mike carried her around with him, or pushed her in a pram while he was working. 

As soon as he went home the screaming started again.  Sedation for sleep was used again.  I went back to the house and felt the same way as the day before.

This became my groundhog day for 3 weeks.  I went, she screamed, I comforted, they sedated.  In between this, every now and then, a little shadow of Georgia's former self peeped through.  She would smile when I sang to her.  She still does that.

Angel Kisses

I have been thinking about my previous post all day.

The way it felt is so hard to describe.  I thought I had done it justice, but reading it back I realise there is so much I have left out.

It was so difficult when Georgia was at home and she kept having respiratory arrests, once she was in Southampton Hospital I felt relieved she was there. 

Again I was so naive. 

We just expect these people to be able to save our children.  It's like, if they are in hospital no harm can come to them.  That is so not true.  There is only so much they can do.

There were a couple of parents we became friendly with that this happened to.  It is so destroying to be faced with the fact that your child can not be saved.  How do you deal with that?  Even worse, how do you tell parents that you can't help?

This was one of the hardest days for us, mainly because we realised that the people we thought were super hero's actually were as baffled by Georgia as we were.

It is so scary to think that you could just lose them.  Just like that. I think, if I had realised this before I would have been even more terrified.

Her next surgery is going to be worse.  She will be aware this time.  Maybe it will make it easier if she is able to tell us how she feels.  Maybe it will make it worse if she can tell us how she feels.  Who knows?

All I know is, without the constant attention to detail and the hard work of the consultants and nurses, Georgia would not be with us today. 

Before Georgia was born I was a wimp.  I hated the sight of blood.  I was terrified when people were sick.  I can't even remember when I got over that.  So much has happened that I just dealt with it. 

We were not allowed to properly bath Georgia due to all the wires but we could bed bath her.  I would sit for hours with a a few little bits of cotton wool and warm water trying to get the dried blood off her puncture wounds.  She had so many, she looked like a little pin cushion. 

You know when you take off a plaster and you get left with that really irritating sticky stuff that just won't come off?  She was covered in that from head to toe.  Mainly around her mouth and nose where the ventilator had been kept in place.  I spent so long trying to get that off before one of the nurses gave me this wonderful remover that did it in seconds.  I didn't really use it much though.  Cleaning Georgia was about all I had to do.

Georgia's scars had begun to heal though.  She had (and still has) perfect little X's just below her chest where the drains were.  Josh says they look like someone has drawn kisses on her tummy.  I told him that's where the angels kissed her to keep her safe. 

There were so many little insignificant things that happened throughout our stay.  Each one of these things makes up the whole story. 

Thinking back to when Georgia was diagnosed, I was devastated.  I never realised it would be this hard, or that she would be this strong.  I don't think I thought for a second she would survive.  It's those angel kisses that did it!

I do hope her next surgery goes a bit better than the last.  Hopefully, one day, she might be able to go a full day without medication, or a full month without a chest infection! 

For now, we are just happy she is here.

The Pretenders

I still go to bed in my jogging bottoms.  I still keep a hairband around my wrist at night too.  It's just in case.

When Georgia was really ill, I had to be prepared to leave to go to the hospital at any time.  It's a habit I cant get out of.  I still have a bag packed for her, hanging up ready to go.

I always have enough petrol in my car to get to the hospital and back.  I always have £1.50 for the parking.

It will never go away, I am in a constantly alert, ready for anything.  I don't ever relax.  I am just a big bundle of nervous energy.  I wonder if I will ever chill out again!

Georgia laid in Intensive Care for 2 days not really seeing, or hearing.  She seemed to just be completely taken over by the pain she was in. 

I could do nothing but sit with her.  I couldn't even cuddle her as she still had so many wires. 

I knew she wasn't right.  The doctors told me that she would recover slowly and that they wanted her to go back up to the Ocean Ward. 
When it is your child, you just know.  She was still really poorly, I felt like no one was listening to me.  In fairness I understand why they didn't.  On paper she was fine.  But when I looked into her eyes, she was dying.

I went with her back up to the ward.  The nurse that was working was called Jess and we knew her very well.  She was to be Georgia's nurse for the day.  I told her my concerns.  As Jess had looked after Georgia before, she knew her and I trusted that she would know if something was wrong.  I left her in Jess' capable hand and went off for a break.

When I came back 2 hours later, Georgia had not moved.  Anyone that knows Georgia, would know that's not right.  She had not smiled since before her surgery either.  I know that no one would want to smile after heart surgery but Georgia smiled through her pain, usually. 

At 2am that morning Georgia stopped breathing.  Back in Intensive Care the Consultant was baffled as to why she was still not well.  All her statistics said she was ok.

Rob and I stayed with her until 4am then finally gave in and went to get some sleep. 

Ward rounds the next day were at 10am, we made sure we were there to hear the doctor's theories.  The consultant on that morning was Vanessa.  She had called in all of the Paediatric Consultants to come and have a look at Georgia. 

The bed was surrounded by 7 or 8 people and I just sat beside Georgia listening to them.  They discussed her for 10 minutes.  Vanessa then asked me what I thought.  I was so surprised that she wanted my opinion  I didn't really know what to say.  Being me, I just burst into tears and told them all she was not right.  There was no light left in her eyes.  It was as if she had given up.  All the fight had been taken from her.

The consultants all went off to talk and left Rob and I sitting looking at each other in fear.  What if they couldn't work out what was wrong?  What do we do then?

On top of this we had planned to travel back to the Island to visit Josh as we hadn't seen him for 2 weeks.  We had to make time for Josh too, as hard as it was to leave Georgia. 

Vanessa came over to tell us that they were going to investigate more by doing chest x-rays and a heart echo. 

I feel very indebted to Vanessa.  She had asked me my opinion, and listened to me.  She agreed that there was something wrong and was doing all she could to find out what it was.  She was aware we had planned to see Josh on this day too and told us to go. I really didn't want to leave Georgi but I really wanted to see Josh.  Honestly, I was looking forward to a normal day.  No hospital, for a while anyway.

So we kissed Georgia goodbye and walked out.  That dreaded elastic band trying to pull me back with every step.

We got into the car and started to drive to the ferry.  We were both crying. 

Playing in the car was 'I'll stand by you' by the Pretenders.  It will forever remind me of Rob, and how we both felt in that moment.  Afraid, sad, guilty for Georgia.  Excited and happy to see Josh.  United in our thoughts and feelings.

Vanessa phoned me as we got off the boat.  Georgia had stopped breathing again.  This time they couldn't pull her out of it so they had sedated her and put her back on the ventilator.  A chest X-ray showed that her lung had collapsed.

10 minutes later we were all smiles for our little boy.  For the moment we had to put Georgia to the back of our minds, as hard as that was. 

We took Josh to the beach.  Rob and I could be brilliant actors.