He is where he needs to be

Oscar spiked a temperature yesterday which was kind of weird. Then he wandered lonely as a cloud around the house crying and wailing which was kind of really annoying. I pointed out to my other 99 children that here was a case study on how NOT to garner maternal love, care and affection.

Then he slept for 15 hours which made the alarm bells clang and me berate myself for having such a cold dead heart. Didn’t stop me from harassing him to actually get up, have a shower and ‘you’ll feel so much better’ him.

He kept saying, ‘no hospital’ which I kept putting into the category of “annoying melodramatic manchild behaviour”. Also, file under: Cold Dead Heart.

And then he pointed to his foot and said, ‘ow.’

Remember the last time he pointed to his foot and said ‘ow’? Yeah. That.

So here we are, back at Mona Vale Hospital which I did nickname the Hospital of Hotness after seeing two spunky emergency registrars (hello Mr AmeriCanadian and Mr Scotland) and a rather easy-on-the-eye radiologist. Small mercies, looking for the positive wherever you kind find it and all that.

Cellulitis in the same leg, the same spot, the same same same.

You tell yourself this is where he needs to be.

You think of Eden in Niger and Nat Bass in Ethiopia and thank all the powers that be that the worst you endure are stupid people in Emergency Department waiting rooms with minor ailments that simply require ice, some panadol and a good lie down.

But it doesn’t help.

You know the antibiotics will kick in, that yes, you’ll be in hospital for probably-somewhere-around-at-least- five-days but really, it’s so small fry compared to the Mighty Tiff and Brave Ivy and what so many others contend with each and every day.

But the reality is trying to work out who’ll look after your other kids and ‘oh my God all those clothes I’ve dumped in the little boys room that still need to be sorted’ and ‘how the hell am I going to do my first shift at the kindergarten tomorrow’ and ‘holy crap there’s nothing in the house for the kids school lunches’ and all the rest.

You tell yourself this is where he needs to be.

The cannula goes in with barely a wail – a lot of wimpering and wriggling but no thrashing and wails to rival the hounds at the gates of hell.

The ortho registrar comes around – another ridiculously good looking medical professional. A bit short and I’m not happy with his shoes but having someone easy on the eye say to you, ‘this is very concerning,’ is a little bit helpful.

There’s talk of surgery to remove the hardware in his foot from the 2010 surgeries. (Read about that adventure here, here, here, here, here and me having sex dreams on the floor of Oscar’s ward here, here and here.

There is plaster applied to the leg to immobilise it. The phrase “disintegration of the joint” is mentioned.

You tell yourself this is where he needs to be. And yet all you want to do is run. Grab him and run. It’ll be fine. We’ll deal with it. But you know this is where he needs to be.

You really need chocolate. And suddenly you have an overwhelming urge to cry. This catches me unaware and now, as I type this, I’m sobbing. In the crappy “Parents Dining Area”. I don’t sob in hospital. I save it up for when we get home and yell at everyone instead. It normally comes out in me mopping floors which you know, means that at least happens once a year.

But it’s too much. This kid. This manchild who drives me wild with all the questions and the contradictions of wanting to be a teenager but playing the disability card when he can’t be arsed to pull his own doona up over him when he gets into bed, of following me around like a shadow, of loitering at the boys’ house next door like a lost puppy, all of it. It’s too much. It’s so unfair.

I want to scream FUCK YOU God but I don’t even believe in him anymore so that’s pretty useless. It’s one thing for me as a parent to be dealt the card of a kid with a dodgy chromosome, but to make the child pay for it with needles and pain and doctors and surgeries and a body and brain that just don’t want to work together is just cruel.

But we will be fine. We will get through this. We will rise up from the fall down.

He is where he needs to be.


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  • Hang in there xxx
    Ruth recently posted..He is where he needs to be

    • Thanks Bloss, we will get through it. As you do.

  • Denyse Whelan

    Oh Kim. I have watched the tweet stream all day.. And of course listened to you on Carol’s show….and been thinking about the “why me, why him” bits that crop up when stuff like this appears. AGAIN. Just when a semblance of enjoyment (read sex) and empowerment (read toughmudder) was helping you see some sunshine in your life after your own health STUFF. So, back at the hospital. At least he’s in the best place. You are not but who else & where else……..I get it. I struggle too. With more than most know. But I get the “oh I shouldn’t complain. Because of …..names, see above) but you know what I say. THIS is YOURS and only YOU are going through it love. Have those tears and please accept anyone’s help too. Much respect & loving wishes Denyse xxx
    Denyse Whelan recently posted..Got Wheels?

    • OH MAN – you wonderful woman. You made me cry again. Thank you so much. Such beautiful words for me.

  • Hang in there. Thinking of you and the family. Deep Breath x
    Paula Petralunga recently posted..A response – #2

    • Indeed. Long deep breaths. And chocolate. Lots of chocolate.

  • Any time with a child in hospital is a horrid time. Having to do it over and over again could break anyone. You will not break. You will cry and you will yell and you will write. And what an amazing writer you are, even in the Parents Dining area.

    Hope you can get some chocolate from the vending machines. Maybe one of the hot registrars can bring you some?

    Big hugs, Kim…
    Dorothy @ Singular Insanity recently posted..I’m so sorry….

    • Thanks so much Dorothy. And you’re right. Fall down seven times, rise up eight. And yes, chocolate is being mainlined.

      We’ve also got the hot paed so that makes it even nicer. I am nothing if not predictable.

  • Thinking of you and Oscar both.
    Angela Savage recently posted..Touch of the Irish

  • OH DUDE. This is so not fair. I wish I were there to smuggle chocolate, champagne and Harry Potter porn into the hospital for you. And I’d offer to bring Oscar whatever he wants, but I suspect you’re it.
    Kathy recently posted..Sixteen

    • OH you made me laugh! Dear GOD what I’d do for a champagne right about now. So peeved about the interruption to all the sex Chef and I have been having and reading gay porn fanfic on an iPhone is just a bit hard going. You know I will battle on though.

  • I’m hugging you so tight, I think you just made a squeaking noise.
    blackbird recently posted..an update on Oldest

  • Fe

    Oh Kim. SO not fair. Love to you and to Oscar, and let me know if you need me. xoxox

  • Penster of Bondi

    I dips me lid.

  • Paola

    Oh the guilt for me right now just raised to the sky … I was complaining about 3 stitches Brizio had to have last Thursday.
    You, m’dear, are a rock and will get through this. AGAIN.
    Then … sex will be resumed!

  • Oh sweetheart. I had such a vision of you when I was reading this post. You are SO beautiful, you know that? And witty. The smarts in your head oh my god.

    Now I’m thinking of you even more. And Oscar. What a day. What a life.

    Love love to you … man I wish I was closer. I’d bring over school lunches and be a taxi for you, in the morning.

    edenland recently posted..Taking the Hits.

  • knittingrid

    Oh, I wish I was closer, too. I’m an excellent clothes sorter and Kindergarten helper. Can’t help with the sex, though.

  • Hah, I just re-read this and it sounds like I had sex dreams on the floor of Oscar’s room three times! I assure you once was enough.

  • Oh love! I hope poor Oscar is better in no time. Hang in there x
    BabyMacBeth recently posted..Flying Penguin Giveaway: Get the FLIP out!

  • trash

    Oh shame, I read that as three times for the sex dreams. Bugger for having to be there even if it is the right place for your boy.

  • I know the feeling of sitting in hospital, feeling utterly helpless and furious with the gods/fates/whatever but also knowing that “this is where he needs to be”. Also that feeling of being torn in two – that there are other boys at home who also need me but priorities are priorities.
    I also know that when you give in and have a good sob… mine was usually while thumping at the steering wheel along Centre Rd on the way home… is very helpful. Soldier on.
    Frogdancer recently posted..Word choice. Very important for humour.

  • Kim, how can you be so fucking erudite even with Oscar where he is. You rock.

    I wish I could fix everything.

    I have done a short stint in the hossy with Charlie. It sucked.

    And if I multiply that out by what you have on your plate, I shink and need to crawl away.

    Deep breaths.


    Lucy recently posted..The game…

  • I am railing against the universe with you. I really am. So unfair. One step at a time honey xxx

  • He is where he needs to be… But you are where he needs you to be too. The lunches will sort themselves out!

    At least Mona hospital has a good view, inside and outside the window…
    The Accidental Housewife recently posted..Autumn Leaves part deux

  • never belittle what you are going through.

    It is hell and we all acknowledge it.

    I wish I could come and hold your hand and laugh ourselves silly.
    kelley @ magnetoboldtoo recently posted..Lest we forget: What it means to you.

    • Would you make me margharitas? That’d make everything better.

  • Carrie

    Sending you love (and strength)… I’m thinking of having my mail redirected to RNS..maybe you could do the same with Mona?

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