Another long day at RCH

Yesterday we had two appointments at the Royal Childrens Hospital (RCH). In the morning, Max had his MRI and in the afternoon he had an eye assessment. Part of me feels a sense of dread when we have appointments like this, nothing ever goes as planned and there's normally a fiasco of some sort. The MRI was booked for 0930 and went fairly smoothly other then the fact that we had to wait until 1130 for him to be seen. I have to say that he coped incredibly well with the delay, even though he had been fasting since 3am. I had set my alarm clock to 5am so that I could give him one last feed before he started fasting but accidently set the alarm to 5PM so he missed out. Damn. He had a general anaesthetic yesterday and I absolutely hate it when he wakes up. He screams until he turns purple. The type of screaming where there is nothing you can do to soothe him other then cuddle him, whisper softly that everything is ok and intermittently offer him his dummy. Sometimes I want to cry with him. It's times like that when I briefly fill with self pity and thoughts like "why me? why does my son have to go through this?". But I won't allow those thoughts to consume me, they would destroy me if I did.

Even food doesn't help :(

Max;s eye appointment was at 215pm. I was a little worried that he wouldn't be able to do the assessment as he was still groggy from the (delayed) general anaesthetic.

Exhibit A



I needn't have worried about Max being sedated for the main assessment because he didn't get seen until 6PM. Almost 4 hours after our scheduled appointment. Now I don't mind having to wait for appointments. I understand that sometimes there are delays that can't be avoided but 4 hours?? (Now I must say here a HUGE thank you to my sister Tara who came along and stayed the whole day with us. It keeps me sane). I don't know how many renditions of 'The Wheels on the Bus' I sang but by the end of the afternoon it went something like this-

"Mummy has had enough of this shit,

I wanna go home

I wanna go home.

Mummy has had enough of this shit

she wants to kill somebody"

(Yes, I will have to mind my language and leave out the homicidal themes when Max gets older but it'll do for now)

I don't like getting annoyed in front of Max so I always try to keep the 'calm mummy smile' plastered on my face, even when I'm fuming. By 6pm we were one of two families left in the waiting room. Our appointment should've been at 215pm and theirs at 330pm but the Opthamologist called them in first and I lost it. Only problem was that the Opthamologist quickly closed her door on me and the receptionist had gone home so there was no one to listen to my rant anyway. We eventually got seen, and his eyes are all good for now. It's hard to test a baby (they don't have eye charts with pictures of dummies, bottles and boobies) so we have to go back again in 6 months time. Next time I'll pack a picnic.

Max absolutely adores his Aunty Tara