This Friday past, the promising beginning of a long weekend filled with plans to cycle, swim and spend quality time with family and friends. We were left emotionally shipwrecked and utterly at a loss instead. One day, someday, we will look back at this season and laugh, laugh heartily. But indulge us for the moment as we struggle to gain composure and get our act together.
As per the cardiologist schedule, Singlet
went in for his long-awaited heart review. After that Croup episode that left
him breathless and hospitalised for three days at the turn of October, we
looked forward to better days. Now over thirteen kilograms and nearing 90cm, we
assumed the worst was far behind us and hoped to hear corresponding news.
But it was not to be.
But it was not to be.
The hole in his heart (VSD), which
has become relatively insignificant in size relative to his ever-growing self,
has started to cause strain on the leaflet by the exit of the left ventricle.
And while a hole of his size could be repaired via surgery, damage to the
leaflet is irreparable. This slight deformity has caused a tiny leak between
heart chambers and though not life-threatening as of now, could potentially be
without intervention.
Whatever the doctor said after she explained the scan is a blur to us. Open heart surgery. Bypass. Stent. Stop the heart. Repair. Post-op recovery.
Only these frightening terms remain. And continue to occupy our thoughts.
With heavy hearts, we went to pick Humblet from school. Just a little while at the playground we thought, as Singlet had fallen asleep in the car on the way. But it was not going to be a quiet evening. One look away, a dull 'thump' later and our little girl could not move her right forearm. She had fallen from a height, and missed her landing, collapsing in a pile putting all her weight on one arm rather than firm on both feet. She had done that manoeuvre possibly a dozen times prior that very day, and countless of time before that incident. Guess that's why there is the term 'freak accident'.
As she cried uncontrollably in pain, her forearm began to balloon. It was back to the hospital for the second time that day. An x-ray showed us a fracture and a temporary cast was made to immobilise her tiny arm. Her little face smiling bravely only to be betrayed by dried up tear stains. We knew full well she did not want us to worry, but we knew from her little grimaces and quiet sobs that night as she slept. And the next night and the next.
Whatever the doctor said after she explained the scan is a blur to us. Open heart surgery. Bypass. Stent. Stop the heart. Repair. Post-op recovery.
Only these frightening terms remain. And continue to occupy our thoughts.
With heavy hearts, we went to pick Humblet from school. Just a little while at the playground we thought, as Singlet had fallen asleep in the car on the way. But it was not going to be a quiet evening. One look away, a dull 'thump' later and our little girl could not move her right forearm. She had fallen from a height, and missed her landing, collapsing in a pile putting all her weight on one arm rather than firm on both feet. She had done that manoeuvre possibly a dozen times prior that very day, and countless of time before that incident. Guess that's why there is the term 'freak accident'.
As she cried uncontrollably in pain, her forearm began to balloon. It was back to the hospital for the second time that day. An x-ray showed us a fracture and a temporary cast was made to immobilise her tiny arm. Her little face smiling bravely only to be betrayed by dried up tear stains. We knew full well she did not want us to worry, but we knew from her little grimaces and quiet sobs that night as she slept. And the next night and the next.
Moving forward we will. For that is
what the living do.
We do not say the above in
resignation and defeat, but with a deep joyous conviction that we as a family
will get through this. As long as we continue to live, we will do so with joy
and contentment.
Humblet is due for a first review
on Monday, which we determine how much that fracture has progressed. Despite
her cast, she is still eagerly rehearsing for her portion of the school concert
day after day, totally sure that she will be ready by then. And so will we with
eager expectation.
Singlet’s doctor has gone into
discussion with senior doctors and surgeons regarding the procedure. And we
will be called in for conference should the operation be a go ahead, if not,
its back to the waiting room for another period. But every day, despite his
heart, he continues to stuff too much rice in his mouth all at once and attempts
to conquer another piece of furniture with his climbing.
And so dear friends, rejoice with
us.
Because Humblet continues to laugh
and dance despite her good arm being stuck in a sling. Because she pretends to
be a one-armed dragon slayer brandishing her heavy sword. Because she teaches
us to keep our spirits up and to smile enough in the day despite the pain she
feels at night.
Also, because Singlet continues to
grow on like an ordinary fifteen-month-old. We will bet he weighs heavier than
most of your two-year-olds (my back). Because he teaches us that every moment
can be a funny moment, if you only choose to laugh.
Cheer our children on and rejoice
with us.
Grateful,
Ames
Amen Amy and Jon! He is sovereign, and you are always in our prayers.
ReplyDeleteRejoice in the Lord always: and again I say, Rejoice.