Dear Doctor

Dear Medical Professional,

You will ask about his medical history,
And I will repeat the story I have told 100 times or more,
The details fine tuned to the essentials I know you need:
He was born full term,
He has a 7 year old brother who is fit and well,
He is allergic to penicillin. 

You will ask me what happened,
And I will answer:
He is 6 years old.
He wasn't breathing for 7 minutes.
I gave him mouth to mouth.

I will hand over a careful typed piece of A4 paper.
It will tell you his hospital number,
The things he is allergic to,
A list of medications and doses.
You will take it and smile.
You'll tell me I make your job easier.

I will stand calm,
And in control.  You see my demeanour,
my hospital bags packed and ready,
And you say,
You've done this before.
I'll nod and say many times.

But remember this; That 6 year old is my baby.

That boy with the oxygen,
And the wires,
And the tubes,
Is my son.

I watched him turn blue. The first time,
The fifth time,
The hundred and fifty fifth time...
It was still …
0

Do you ever just feel like you can’t do anything right?

It’s one of those days!  It’ll pass I know.  And you’ll read this and will tell me what a great job I’m doing (I hope), how I’ve a lot to cope with, how it’s only understandable to feel like this from time to time.  Add to that I’ve been unwell of late (nothing serious – a bit of a virus) and I’m tired so it’s understandable to be all emotional etc etc.  Hang on, I’ll talk myself out of a blog post at this rate! But seriously ... do you ever just feel that you just can’t do anything right?

I just feel I’m letting everyone down.  I’m not a decent mother, a decent wife, a decent daughter, a decent friend.  My house is a tip. There are piles of washing everywhere. There’s no food in the fridge (though there IS plenty of wine). I shouted at Cheeky today and made him cry. Over nothing!  Just because I’m tired. I can barely manage a civil word to The Husband half the time and I can’t remember the last time I was able to have a proper conversation with a friend or family member and really take an interest – I’m just too tired, too distracted, too stressed to think about anything or anyone else. 

My whole life seems to be about being ‘A Carer’. Not a mum.  I seem to be doing chest physio, or thinking about it, or charging the suction machine, or setting up a feeding pump, or re-fixing the bloody tape for the NG tube for the 100th time, or chasing appointments, or reading flipping hospital letters day after day after day.  I don’t have time to play cars with Cheeky.  I can’t find time to wash up.  I can’t manage to get the two boys out to the park or the shops or anywhere.  I constantly feel guilty about all the things I’m not doing and all the things I should be doing and that just makes me more stressed and incapable of doing anything at all!!!

The respite that was promised in August still hasn’t materialised – though we are using the local hospice.  It’s not even respite I want – although an hour to have a bath would be lovely.  I just want someone to give me a hand. I just want to feel like every single area of my life isn’t slowly falling apart.

Do you know, I used to be fun.  Some days I struggle to remember the old me.  I’m not sure where she has gone.

Comments

  1. Zoe6 January 2012 at 22:44

    You probably don't want me to say that yes girl, you are doing a fabulous job.

    It's a bloody hard job and you have so much to juggle. I only have Sam and I find it tricky, but you have two to look after.

    I know it is easy for outsiders to say, but try not to be so hard on yourself. Your children, your family are so lucky to have you - you are stronger than you realise. You have to be for handling what you have to handle EVERY day.

    You are a marvellous lady. x

    ReplyDelete
  2. Unknown7 January 2012 at 10:47

    Thanks Zoe. That message came through directly to my phone late last night. It really made me smile and was a lovely end to a long day. Thank you. X

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Thanks for taking the time to read and comment.