Though, one time I just had to pause for a moment and take this photo
When Max had his immunizations, he cried and then I cried because he cried.
Now that he's older, I can handle the sobs, the grizzles and fake-out cry. But the one cry, that still makes me anxious as hell is the "I'm in pain mummy, makeitstop NOW" cry. Max is doing a LOT of teething lately and there's been lots of pain cries. Pain cries, that put giant chinks in mummy's armour.
There's been no shortage of pain related cries in Max's life. I could write a whole post about the things he's been through, that I'd rather forget. But, dedicating an entire post to that would be kinda depressing. Instead, I
June 2nd, 2011, Max and I arrived at the Hospital. By the time we arrived, he was unconscious, floppy and barely breathing. Yet, I was strangely calm. When the nurse, called in the 'resus' team, I totally believed her, when she said "we always do that".
Have you ever seen those cartoons where, a tiny car pulls up and a gazillion clowns tumble out? That's the best way that I can describe the scene that followed. Nurses and doctors came running from every direction. They stripped off his clothes and he didn't cry. He always cried when he was undressed. I honestly thought, 'he'll wake up soon, giggle and we'll go home'.
Nurses/Doctors kept running to me, asking various questions and then scampering off again. Then a nurse gave me a glass of water, patted my back and stood with me. She was the Unit Manager of the E.D. My initial thought was 'oh crap, this is serious. Unit Managers don't give out glasses of water, unless it's serious. That thought was quickly replaced by 'The Children's Hospital has better funding, so the Unit Managers have more time to dish out water'.
When I was told "he'll be in at least overnight", "intubated" and "intensive care". I thought 'gee, they sure do overreact around here'.
Then, they told me that they were struggling to get IV access & needed to insert an Intraosseous line. An IO is a line that goes directly into the bone marrow (Anyone interested in learning more, can read about it here http://emedicine.medscape.com/article/940993-overview#a1)
They told me that maybe I should leave the room, as it could be distressing for parents. I wanted to stay (how bad could it be? FFS, I'm a nurse). They assured me that he was sedated and wouldn't feel a thing. Meanwhile
And then, it happened. What has now become definitively, the most horrible moment of my life. A drill, (sort of like a dentists drill), went straight into his shin. The piercing, shrill cry of my baby in so much pain that I couldn't begin to understand. The shrill cries that were muffled by the oxygen mask, covering half his face.
There's not a single word in the English language to describe the pain I felt at that moment. Alone, in a room totally full of people. Powerless and afraid. The reason, I still fear the 'pain cry'. The moment I realized life was about to become a whole lot different. We weren't in Kansas anymore.
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