December 2005 was the time our Chloe had an anterior fusion of a lumbar kyphosis. In laymans terms that means that she had surgery on her back where an outward curve was slightly straightened and stabilised with titanium rods and screws. Yes, it's as big as it sounds. After a week of being in hospital they encased her torso in a plaster cast and sent her home for Christmas.
Those days she was home were not fun for her. I won't write all of what happened but by December 18 I was concerned enough to bundle her into the car and drive like a madwoman up the Monash to the Royal Children's Hospital. The staff took one look at my pale, grey girl and rushed her into Emergency.
The cracking of plaster to reveal a horribly emaciated Chloe, the strangled, "I can't!" when encouraged to take a deep breath, the colour of the carbon-dioxide laden blood they took from her, the hiss of the bi-pap as they forced oxygen into her, the X-rays revealing a collapsed left lung filled with fluid and squashing her right lung which was displacing her trachea, the muttering of the nurse, "how is this kid still breathing?" Tubes being inserted here, there, everywhere. This mother holding her daughters hand repeating, "You can do anything! You can do anything!" like a mantra.
These are the memories I have but choose not to write in detail because they still haunt me to this day if I dwell on them for too long. One thing about Emergency they don't tell you. The mother is invisible. The staff only have eyes and ears for the patient. Everyone else doesn't exist. For that I am so incredibly grateful...but as a mother, it's also incredibly hard.
I've never been so afraid in all my life...nor have I been so afraid since. Eventually things stabilised and we knew she was out of the woods when someone blew up a latex glove and drew a face on it. I knew she was going to be okay when her doctor looked at me in the face and assured me that she wasn't going to die.
Our girl was taken to the ICU where they drained a litre and a half of milky, pink fluid off her chest. Her breathing became steady and deep and for the first time in days she was able to rest.
We weren't allowed to stay with her that night. There are no parents sleeping by bedsides in the ICU. Beautiful friends who lived nearby gave me a bed for the night but as soon as first light came I was out the door and back to the hospital.
As I entered ICU I was greeted by my girl. My Chloe. She was pink. I hugged her and she was deliciously warm. She looked at me and said, "Mum, I'm so glad this happened to me because if it had've happened to anyone else I loved I would've been so much more scared."
My Chloe. That whole statement just sums her up completely. We are so blessed by her presence on this earth.
Yes, we spent Christmas on the ward at the Royal Children's Hospital that year. How blessed we were! We were so touched by the hundreds of volunteers who gave up their own Christmas Day to be a blessing to families spending Christmas on the wards. Volunteers who handed out presents so generously donated, volunteers who lovingly prepared Christmas dinner for families and friends. Carol singers, celebrities, entertainers all making the rounds to spread some Christmas cheer.
Family members gave up part of their day to spend it with us on the ward. Our little room was filled with Christmas cheer as presents were spread around a miniature Christmas tree which slowly became buried.
Some family members who were unable to visit gave up their time to serve others that day. My sister in law went out and helped out at a soup kitchen, serving Christmas dinner to those in need.
It wasn't the Christmas any of us ever expected, but it was a truly happy one and we felt so incredibly blessed. We were all acutely aware of the fact that we had dodged a serious bullet that year and were so grateful for everything that happened. Life is so precious...and we simply celebrated the gift that is life.
Chloe was released from hospital on January 7, 2006. She came home pink and well and wonderful. We captured her homecoming in a photograph that still adorns our fridge to this day.
I think their faces say it all.
Chloe is the one in purple.
*note: Chloe had experienced a complication known as Chylothorax. As the surgery had involved accessing the anterior side of the spine, the incision was made through the chest wall. Sometimes the thoracic duct is accidentally severed during this type of surgery causing lymphatic fluid or chyle to leak into the pleural cavity surrounding the lungs and heart. This is what happened to Chloe. After the fluid was drained & the tear allowed to heal by having a strict no-fat diet, she made a full recovery. *
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