Friday, 8 July 2011
Why Cameron is No Ordinary Kid - Part 29
Now that I was on my own my days changed again. Michael wasn't there to bring me breakfast or just to sit and talk to. This is when some very special friends and family stepped up and looked after me. The novelty of visiting us in hospital had started to wear off on everyone and our visitor numbers were decreasing. There were also people who didn't feel comfortable visiting because they felt so helpless.
One friend made me a huge batch of healthy and very yummy muffins. I kept them in my room and each morning I would run upstairs to a parent room that had a microwave to freshen and warm my muffin. On the way back I would make a cup of coffee in my wards parent room and that was breakfast.
My mum continued to bring me lunch and Michael's mum continued to bring me dinner. Michael's dad would also try and visit as much as possible. Cameron's Auntie (Michael's sister) also tried to visit as often as she could. She was able to give Cameron lots of lovely Auntie cuddles.
My aunt worked a few blocks from the hospital and she would drop in and visit me. It was always lovely to see her smiling face come around the corner.
My friend who made my breakfast muffins tried to visit me regularly. I would see her several times a week and it was always lovely to sit and just chat. There's something very special about sitting with your girlfriend chatting that makes you feel happier and more able to cope with life. Her life was not easy at the time and she was going between two hospitals visiting us and her grandmother. I really appreciated what she did for me.
Because I didn't have Michael to talk to during the day I started to talk to the others mother's on the ward more. Despite the fact they were there with their sick children many of them felt badly for us. They would be on the ward for a few days and then be gone and I would celebrate their release and their babies return to good health.
We all had to be very careful to be aware of which babies were in isolation and you literally couldn't put your toe across the doorway of an isolation room. We would stand just outside and chat with the mum inside for ages, learning about each other's children and lives. Occasionally we would get in the way of nurses but they never minded.
I met some lovely Mum's who I'm sure I could have been friends with in less stressful circumstances. One mother was especially touched by our situation and as she prepared to discharge she brought Cameron a gift of a little cloth clown doll. It was covered in fine motor activities such as buttons, zips, velcro, press studs, etc. She wanted to do something to show her support for Cameron and to assure me that Cameron would develop and improve. She was lovely and her gift deeply touched me.
I also had another visitor who puzzled a few people. The friend who made me the muffins has a beautiful husband who also worked near the hospital. He started to bring his lunch and pop in to visit me at lunchtime. As time went by and my mother needed to return home his visits increased and I looked forward to seeing him appear with his smiley face and beautiful soul.
After a while it became apparent that some of the staff thought my male visitor was my husband - clearly they had not been on the ward when Michael had been there. The day a nurse asked my visitor a question he couldn't answer, because he wasn't Cameron's father, caused much confusion for a few minutes until the embarrassed and confused nurse left and we both burst into laughter. Now that is true friendship impersonating your husband for you.
I don't know if I ever said thank you enough to those wonderful people who kept me fed, clothed and connected with the real world. There were also a couple of friends who would attempt to run the gauntlet of the hospital reception staff and try to have a chat with me on the phone but if they didn't succeed they would leave me a message which let me know they cared and were thinking of us.
So thank you to each and every one of you, listed or not, who looked after me and did what you could. You kept me sane and you kept me connected to reality which had slipped away and you filled our lonely room with love every day.