Thursday, 9 February 2012

God's Will

I was reading a book today that is full of true stories. A lot have to do with stories of faith and miracles.
I class myself as a Christian. I have my beliefs and I respect everyone's right to what they do or don't believe.

One story is about a family that have had a baby that is unable to breathe on his own. He has to have a lot of operations to try and drain fluid from his brain (which isn't fully developed). At different points in the story, doctors and nurses advise the parents that it might be kinder to take him off all machines and let nature take its course.

The mother gets hysterical and abuses them all, saying that he has to stay on the machines and that its not their choice to decide when/if he will die, its God's. Now I haven't finished this story, so do not know whether he lives or not at the moment.

Reading this bit though, made me feel angry. There are probably some deep psychological  reason for this, but on the surface what made me angry was their reason. They did not want doctors playing God and taking him off the machine! Isn't keeping him on the machines playing God?

There are people that will say their reasons for doing/saying things are because of God, but it only seems to be in situations that suit them at the time or as a 'God is in my argument so I am right'. Yes this mother would have acted on fear and would not be thinking clearly, but this has been written years later and the feelings of God is right is still strong in what is in the book.

Yes I know, a very controversial subject lol

Babies and journeys

Now last month I had the post up about how we found out about Ryan having Muscular Dystrophy. This is a follow on from then.

We had spent the 3 weeks from Ryan's blood test, going to specialists and then being told he had to have a muscle biopsy to see what type of MD he had. This ended up being scheduled for February 10th.

On this Monday, we had to take Ryan into St Andrew's private hospital on Wickham Terrace. Ryan would be going in for day surgery. In the ward were a lot of kids having their tonsils or adenoids out. I was trying hard to be brave and strong for our little man. I was fine until he was wheeled to theatre, then I fell apart.

The other mums wondering why this heavily pregnant woman was a blubbering mess, who had to be taken out of the ward by nurses, asked what was wrong. When they were told what Ryan was having done, it wasn't just me upset then, they were as well.

Ryan came through it all fine and I took him home to where our friend Colleen was watching Jade. Ryan was suppose to rest, but the anaesthetic sent him hypo and he just kept running around and wouldn't stay still.

We would not get the results from this for a couple of weeks. I can't exactly remember how long it took as the next few weeks were a bit of a blur.

So that was the Monday. On the Thursday night I went into hospital to have a c section the next day.

Now I don't know if I have told you this before, but will again, as it relates to this time.

When I was pregnant with Jade in 1990, things went a bit pear shaped. I was due in July, but when I went to my gyno on June 1st, he found that my blood pressure was up and so were my triglycerides. He said I needed to go into hospital for bed rest. I said I couldn't go, as it was our 15th wedding anniversary. We came to a compromise and I would go in after we went out for dinner that night.

In hospital was a girl I went to school with on one side and a friend further down the hall. I split my time visiting them, which ended up with being told that I had have to complete bed rest, pan and all. By the time it came to the morning of the 6th, I was told it was a case of get the baby out or we both not be here to see another day.

I went into surgery, having an epidural the same as I did for Ryan's c section. We were all joking around, as you do in theatre. Next thing I knew I was waking up in recovery and being told I had a girl. I didn't understand what had happened. It turned out that the epidural epidural had been patchy. When they tested it was fine, but when they cut me, I apparently just about went through the ceiling. Of course I don't remember this, since they give you something to forget.

Now not only did this happen, but I had requested a pethidine infusion but was given a morphine one. The problem was that it was faulty and so the whole lot went through instead of a controlled amount. I remember a nurse staying with me and saying that I had to stay awake. They called the anaesthetist who refused to come in - he turned up the following day, saying to me 'Its like cricket. Some days you get a century, other days you get a duck'. To say I was speechless was an understatement. I had the director of nursing and head of the hospital all coming to see me. It had me confused as to why, until my Aunty pointed out, that they were worried I would sue.

On top of all this, Jade was in a humdicrib and I hadn't seen her. My pediatrician came in and went off at them not bringing her down to me. He marched up to the nursery area and unplugged her and wheeled her to my room and plugged her in there.

Now back again to Troy. When getting ready for theatre, all my doctors wanted me to have a general. I insisted that I was having an epidural. One of the main things they were worried about was what my reaction would be if I had a boy, knowing that he could also have DMD. I kept telling them it was fine, I was having a girl. I was convinced I was and everything would be fine. Nothing they could say would make me change my mind.

Lying outside of theatre, waiting to get wheeled in, I started thinking. As they moved me, I told them to stop, I had changed my mind and was going to have a general. You could hear the audible sigh of relief from them.

When I came to, a nurse was there to tell me that I had a boy. From my reaction then, I was probably lucky to have been knocked out. I started to cry and shake and just couldn't seem to stop. They kept me there for a long time, until I calmed.

In my room, they again had a nurse sit with me. This time though because they thought I might harm Troy. I knew I never would, but they had to make sure I suppose.

Knowing that there would be no control over what the results would be, I said that prior to Troy having any testing, I wanted to have his baptism. I wanted it to be a happy day, with no sad faces at it.

After this we had a CPK test done on Troy. It came back inconclusive. It was again done at 6 months, with the same results. Then again at 12 months with the same results. As you can image, by this time I wanted answers once and for all. They redid the test and it came back that he was clear.

Relief flooded through us and we could finally let ourselves get close to and enjoy our baby boy.