First up, the fragility of the human body. You don't know how fragile you are until something goes awry. Luckily for me, this was the very first time I had ever been admitted into an Emergency Department. The only other times I'd ever been to hospital were all related to my pregnancies - all very positive pain experiences (if you can call any pain positive). The pain with this gall bladder attack was just unbelievable. And I felt so helpless having to reach out to someone to help me. Helpless is not a word I like to associate with myself, not at all.
Before deciding that I needed treatment, as I was desperately using the heating pad over my convulsing abdomen, while trying to use all of my brain power to somehow will away the pain, the only thing I could think of was, "I cannot go to the hospital. I don't want the kids there and I don't want to wake Mom and Dad up at this ungodly hour. I've got to just wait this out a while longer and lick it. L boy will go ballistic if he finds out his Mommy is in hospital."
So much easier said than done, however. In then end, of course, I succumbed. But the other thing that was crystal clear - it is not about me anymore. I know it ceased being about me the day that I had the boy. However, this innate concern for them first, amidst excruciating pain and massive hypotension ... all I could think of was "who's going to look after my babies?"
Amazing isn't it? And luckily for me, my parents were able to be here for them.
I know for a fact that every time Ian phoned home, L was the first to pick it up to get news. According to my mother, he was asking about me every 10 minutes, looking out the window every 5. He was so anxious, just as I knew he would be. The girlie, well, she's still too young to understand, so I didn't take it personally that she didn't ask for updates. When I finally got home after over 14 hours, I could see the boy's red-rimmed eyes when he literally flew up to give me a big hug. I asked if he'd been crying, but he wouldn't admit it. The girlie came up excitedly too, but it was as if I'd just returned from a weekend in NYC.
I'm sure my boy's vivid imagination was coming up with all sorts of scenarios and he was just so relieved to have me back. His safety net restored, his world back in order now that Mommy was home.
My father was admitted into emergency yesterday for some pain that he's had for a couple of weeks now. At first I thought it might be similar to what I had (although it's highly unlikely that gall bladder disease is infectious, just a bad coincidence). However, he stayed overnight in hospital to have a more comprehensive scan this morning. And now he's waiting for news from a specialist ... in oncology. Ugh.
I am sitting worriedly by the phone now. Waiting apprehensively for the updates on my father, my Daddy. And hoping that the news will be good so that my world order will be back in place.
(Edited to add: at the time of this posting, he's been in hospital for two nights. I suppose it's better that he's having all the tests done now, without delay before the craziness of the holidays. I'm hoping that it'll all be good...)