NOT A POET AND I KNOW IT

I want to scream

I want to shout

I want to let frustration out.

I want to cry
I want to yell
I WANT MY DAUGHTER TO BE WELL

I want some things to go our way

I want to have a peaceful day

I want to find a lucky clover 

I want this nightmare to be OVER! 

Ok. No need to tell me I'm not a poet. I know! But it's the first thing that came out when I put finger to ipad. I am frustrated beyond belief because I had such hopes for Ashton returning to theatre this Friday. I had high hopes for a little bit of finality, a little bit of closure. But if was not to be. There are not enough beds available and no room on the lists for the procedure to happen this Friday.

So, there will be more waiting and more hoping and more praying that her current good health stays with us. We will distract ourselves with thoughts of her 21st party which is scheduled for the end of this month. And I will distract myself with menus, balloons, gifts, cake and an increasing guest list. This is going to be a great party, not just for the birthday girl but for all of us. Everyone on both sides of the family needs a good party.

Waiting is not something I'm accustomed to when it comes to health issues. Luckily I have always had private health cover and been able to choose my own specialist and be seen quickly. But Ashton's treatments have been in the public system because for her condition that's the best place to be. And so we are constrained by lists and budgets and beds and availability of staff etc. It's not fair is it? It's bad enough having any medical condition, without having all that put on you as well. I wonder if people who allocate budgets have ever had to wait for medical treatment before. Bad enough if it was for me...hell that it's for my child. And double hell if that's the only system you can afford to be seen under.

The husband has returned to Geraldton to replenish the bank account. It's hard being separated like this but Ashton can't drive herself at the moment and so I stay. Ciara starts university next week! Sound the trumpets and blow the horns. It's going to be another big year for my budding actress as she undertakes a certificate 4 in musical theatre at WAAPA - the west australian academy of performing arts based at Edith Cowan university.

Till next time...xxx

ST

WAITING, WAITING AND MORE WAITING

So, we're here at the hospital and so far we have been here six hours and still have not gone to theatre. My poor girl has not eaten or drunk since 8 pm last night and is now fast asleep out of pure exasperation.

                                

The doctors came in to see her hours ago and explained the procedure over and over again. I wish I could put my hands over Ashton's ears when they start talking about the risk of stroke, paralysis and death, but I understand it's something they need to do. I understand it really but I don't want to hear it.

We have one new doctor. Bertie beetle aka Dr Albert has moved on and that makes us all sad because he is a lovely doctor with great compassion. His replacement ( or the new model as Dr HS calls her) is a polished female doctor with a beautiful English accent. She will of course require a nickname and this will come with time. The main doctor remains the same, though slightly dishevelled which is unusual for him. That's what happens when you have three kids!!

Life in a hospital continues to fascinate me. You just get all sorts. I sat at lunch willing myself to say nothing when a woman was trying to feed a very young baby solids. Her friend was shoving spoonfuls of something into another child's mouth. The noise from both children was unbelievable and my shattered nerves couldn't take it. Mark and I just left.

Two orderlies nearby are having a very exciting conversation about whether a certain orange chair belongs in one place or another. Oh my goodness, it's the end of the world because it should be in the female change room not the males. Scintillating conversation! The excitement is killing me.

The nurse has just put Ashton on Iv fluids as it's been ages since she had anything to drink. The hold up is an emergency, as usual. I know it needs to take priority. I would want it to take priority if it was my family BUT please God make them hurry up. It's been too long a wait.

Got to go. An exciting conversation about the cups in the kitchen is breaking.

BRB