Today, start pre-op antibiotics and steroids. Friday, pre-op assessment over the phone. Sunday, we all go into isolation to reduce COVID and other infection risks. Monday he has a COVID test. Monday/Tuesday, I try and juggle a busy work schedule, with three children who are not allowed out of the house, can have no visitors, in their half term holidays (they would have gladly taken isolation should it have been in school term!) who are high on early Halloween party treats that I have bribed them with. Wednesday, on the ward for 7.15am, hoping we get an early slot in theatre, but mostly that it all goes ahead (we been through pre-op nil-by-mouth before and had it cancelled at the last minute for emergency surgery coming from ED. Me anxious, and Isaac nil-by-mouth = not a great mix). Thursday, home, we hope, all going well. He is much safer here, so if we can get his pain under control, and the discharge drugs in time, we will run as soon as we can. After that, we spoil him and his sisters rotten.
This is how I hope it all goes down, but I feel like I am walking down a corridor of poised spanners, just waiting to be thrown at us. His DIOS is not under control (he went to school today, but ran home and vomited immediately). This, or his chest infections could get worse before then, meaning they would not operate. Or COVID (cases are now rising rapidly in our area too), either for him, or that cases rise so much they delay planned ops.
It’s such a weird feeling.... longing for a surgery that scares us, is very painful, and has a long recovery time with no guarantee that he won’t need it again? But then we see him with his beloved ice pack on his head, the nausea, the cyclical infections, and we know this needs to happen, and it needs to happen now.
Hoping to write next on the other side of the Op. Keep well everyone, and take care x
PS: Fundraising news coming very soon, watch this space! ❤️
Kandinsky ❤️ This one always makes me feel Christmassy.
