FRUSTRATION, PATIENCE AND BROWNIES

I have been staring at a computer screen for days trying to overcome the writers block which has overtaken me. You see I can't think straight anymore and I find I also can't talk without effort. I certainly can't be creative and to a certain extent creativity is required in a blog. At one stage I even considered deleting it all so that I wouldn't have to write any more.

This story you see is starting to take its toll on me. Waking up every day and facing what is in store is draining the heart out of me.

Last week we found out  that the fistula in Ashton's neck has grown considerably . You may remember that the doctor was on a mission to destroy this fistula back in November, when a problem in her thyroid stopped proceedings. Investigations followed and  plans were made to reassess in another year. Problem solved....or so I thought.

You would have thought it was then a simple case of getting back to the original plan. Hell no! First it took over two weeks for a report to reach Ashton's doctor. By that stage he was off on leave to welcome baby number 3. (!!!) Then it was Christmas. Then it was New Year and THEN he went on holidays.

Now we certainly don't begrudge him his down time. This doctor and his team work bloody hard. But when we finally got to a review early January and found out the fistula had grown significantly, we didn't expect to have to wait another 3 weeks to get to theatre.

Yes, I know about triage. I get triage, but I don't like it when my daughter's condition has become worse. But its pointless isn't it? Its pointless to moan because there is nothing I can say or do to influence the tight schedules and tight budgets  these doctors work under. All we can do is carry on and pray.

                                                      
And eat chocolate. A friend just brought me a plate of homemade brownies and they are to die for.

My support crew has gone into overdrive. My news feed and messenger is filled with  positivity and prayers and virtual cuddles. They can tell that I am close to breaking point. But...that is not an option.It never has been.

Last night I messaged another mother whose teenage son is going through a shockingly similar situation. I needed someone who gets it. She told me not to let the Devil get a foothold in my mind. Now I'm Catholic and we don't seem to talk much about the Devil, but for some reason this comment made sense. Don't let your mind be full of negative thoughts. Don't let these thoughts take over your thinking. Just remember God is on the case. 

 I get it.I've always got it. I just forget and lose hope every so often.

Today was no better. Ashton developed a headache overnight and though I suspect the assignment due today was a contributing factor, she has no option but to head to the ED and submit for more tests. Stress? Tension? Fistula ? Who knows? There is no extra blockage, so this time it might be a normal people's headache. Shame she can't manage it like a normal person would. Imagine if we all had to go to the ED everytime we had a headache. Saturday mornings would be crowded!

So that's the 19th almost done with and that means 18 days till surgery. Let's hope this fistula doesn't increase anymore in the meantime. Enough is enough.

Till next time...xxx

THE STORY OF TIM AND TAM

So we are back in our home town in the Midwest for rest and recuperation. Not happy that we have left my youngest daughter in the city alone but she is busy in an acting course and we wouldn't have seen her anyway. But not happy regardless.

Hello house.

Hello bed

Hello my spot ( think Sheldon on Big Bang).

The FED and I are home.

The husband appears pleased and immediately asks what's for dinner. It's a well used joke to which I reply " whatever you're cooking". 

We settle into our favourite parts of the house. The FED occupies zone 1 (couch and TV). I get zone 3 ( my bedroom - bliss!) and the husband gets zone 2 ( kitchen, fridge , kettle and computer). We are generous to each other and share the bathrooms. 

Zone 1 and zone 3 are at opposite ends of the house which can be a problem when you wish to communicate with the other person and refuse to budge on the grounds of laziness. If that other person happens to be a young person recently returned home after multiple surgeries it proves harder.

You could yell out... but the TV will be up or she will have earphones in and wont hear you.

You could phone her but she'll undoubtedly  be out of credit.

You could text her but that seems to be a form of communication dying out with the young.

Or...you can Facebook her which will guarantee immediate success as not only has her brain been surgically manipulated, but her new iPad ( thank you Telstra) is never far, and I'm starting to think surgically attached to her hand.

As this was a significant question I chose to Facebook. ( when did that word become an acceptable verb????).

Mum: are there any Timtams left?
FED: there's one left.

Mum: could you bring it to me?

FED: I'd have to take it through enemy territory ( zone 2)...could be risky.

True...the husband is renowned for being able to sniff out a sweet treat from miles away let alone a couple of metres.

Mum: you're a secret agent delivering an important package. You're agent Tim.

FED: delivering to agent Tam?...but I'm the boss ok?

Mum: you can be the boss. Just bring me the bloody Timtam before your father sniffs it.

But she persists!

FED: it's a bit like consultant and registrar. I'm the consultant and you're the registrar. I get to boss you around.

And that's where I cracked up laughing because suddenly I realised her consultant is Dr Tim and his registrar is Dr Tan which is too close to Tam to not be funny. 

Timtan a new biscuit,

The biscuit was carried through enemy territory at a fast speed and eaten at an even faster speed, before "he who sniffs out everything" could register... although he knew something was up because I was laughing so much.

It's good to laugh. It's been too long.

Today my girl flies back to rejoin her sister in the big city. It is almost a month since the last surgery and she is still looking so well. I pinch myself every morning and pray fervently for this to continue and for her life to continue to improve.

As Dr Tim says, " we remain cautiously optimistic". 

Till next time ...xxx