This is the final week that I will be participating in the ‘Do Something Yummy’ Blog link up to raise awareness for CLIC Sargent, the charity that supports children and young people with cancer. If you want to know more about their “Yummy Mummy” week, please click here. If you want to read more blog posts on this theme, click here
Son number one had surgery this week. Three years and seven months since it was put in place and five months since his chemotherapy finished, he finally had his portacath removed. If you’ve never heard of or seen a portacath, they are quite hard to visualise. Essentially, they are a device that allows strong drugs to be administered, without a canula or a Hickman line being in place. I won’t go into how they work, in case you are squeamish. If you want to know, click here.
The whole thing is just under the skin. In Son number one’s case, just below his left collar bone as you can see above. Our consultant kindly let us have the X-ray image you can see below. It has served him well but I’m sure he’ll be glad it’s gone. It must have been uncomfortable if he ever took a knock to it. Getting rid of it is another milestone on the road to normality.
This week has been a reminder of what it is like to have sick child at home. The operation has left him feeling uncomfortable and sore. The dressings are pulling on his skin, making him sit and stand in a really strange and awkward looking position. His left arm is pretty much out of action. He spent the day after the op moving between a chair, the sofa and his bed, mostly watching TV of some sort. It was mighty tricky keeping Babykins from climbing up onto him.
When he was first sick, I had a period of feeling quite stressed. I don’t think I really understood my feelings at the time but I have re-visited them this week. I know now that having a sick child at home can make you feel very trapped. You can’t go anywhere or do anything. You feel torn between wanting to nurse the sick child and entertain the healthy one. Although you are extremely grateful for all the help you get from family and friends, all you really want is your own version of normality to return; to be able to cope with looking after your family and running your home on your own.
By the end of this week, I was ready to run away and have some time alone. It’s amazing what an hour and a half of silent hooking can do for you. I think the psychedelic colour scheme of my little bird reflects my state of mind when I was making it. I am now back to making sensible, normal, yellow chicks.
I am thankful that this period of recovery is a minor blip. I’m sure that in another week he will be running around again, full of vim and vigour. Hopefully I will be too.