Well the day finally came for the wee lady to go into hospital for the tonsils and adenoids out.
She’s been bothered by them for years and between the recurrent strep throats, tonsilitis and sleep apnea, she was constantly shattered and coughing.
The pre op assessment was an interesting one with me asking if we really needed to do the op….and when an older nurse announced “it’s a pure sin, listen to her breathing – those need to come out” The decision was made.
We hadnt told the wee lady what was happening until a few days before it and she was ok then would get a real sense of fear. She kept saying “dont let them hurt me”
Eh, they would need to get passed me first.
I had that same dread that I had on her first day at school, when you hand over your littlies to the care of others.
I know the procedure is a standard one,I know that she will get the best care ever and I know she needs this to help her breathe, sleep, and grow.
But she is my wee girl and the very thought of a general anaesthetic was driving me to distraction. Not having slept for some time deprived me of my ability to rationalise what was going to happen but I think most parents are like that when it comes to their wee ones, no?
The day arrived and we had a great morning in hospital: all of the team met with the wee lady and myself, she asked questions and they were great with her.
She was in the playroom for a few hours and was beautifully distracted by craft activities. As were many of the parents which was no bad thing.
I was with her as they gave her the anaesthetic and that is something I don’t want to see again. Ever.
That was the point when I had to trust other people and that is hard when it comes to your baby. ( albeit she is 6)
Total time she was away from me was 40 minutes but it was the longest 40 mins of my life.
The tears flowed and I felt like an eejit. But she didn’t see that and that was the main thing.
When they brought her back she cooried tight into me and we sat wrapped in a blanket as we have done since she was tiny.
It was interesting to see how the other parents were interacting with their children: some parents sat on their phones as their wee ones slept or looked idly about them, some slept over their wee ones, some cuddled in and some children were on their own.
We had gone prepared: books, colouring in, fabric painting, stickers.
Must be the teacher in me. Eh no, it was the mama in me.
The wee lady had a rough night with buzzers going off, observations and meds,but she was wrapped round me like a coala bear. I fully waited on super nanny coming to give me a telling off and believe you me, if anyone had tried last night, it would have been a glittery trainer to the face.
The care and attention she received was first class ( I love the NHS) and I cannot op raise the staff enough.
My best friend is a nurse and we are often to be found discussing work, training and young people. I always have been and still am in awe of the work she does. We were chatting one night and I told her I just could not do her job, when you make decisions about life and death, and how much I admired her. Her response to me was that she might save lives but teachers gave lives to children through education.
We are home, and the wee lady is just grand. Lots of meds, cuddles and ice cream.
So I am off work with her for a few days and I was getting myself ina real state about being off amd thinking how could I get back for that class or how could I squeeze something in.
The I gave myself a mental kicking. I love teaching. It’s a way of life and a privilege to work with young people, and when I am there, I give everything I can.
When I am not, I have to trust other people.
My little lady comes first and I will not be the parent that puts work first.
Mammy points maximum points for not crying
Manolos points, I have been in bare feet for two days – blissAdvertisements