Last week, Raphaela enthusiastically embraced the idea of a walk through the forest, and at some point fell and scraped the side of her head on a rather sharp rock. This morning, another parent brought her daughter to Gan with a similar looking black eye. I said to the other mother, "Was your daughter in the same bar fight as mine?" And then we both said, simultaneously, "You should have seen the other guy..."
Raphaela was very brave this morning, and cried only minimally when they took some blood as preparation for her surgery and hospital stay in less than two weeks. She seemed to sense, as soon as we walked near the nurses' station, that something was amiss, and I am torn between trying to prepare her and explain to her that soon we will have an "adventure" at Hadassah, and springing the idea on her the morning of check-in to the hospital. We have come full circle, the procedure will take place at the same hospital where Raphaela was born; I wish for both of us that we not see the inside of any hospital for a long time to come.
This girl of mine is a "foodie," and the hardest part of that morning will be distracting her so she forgets that she cannot eat breakfast or drink any water past six am.
Meanwhile, her breathing during the night gets worse and worse, and I am grateful that Dr. Weinberger was able to arrange the surgery this month, rather than the anticipated September. Seeing my daughter post-surgery and breathing normally will be the best birthday present ever.
3 comments:
You need to remember what you are doing is not hurting RR (even if she is crying from being stuck by a needle or cries when she wakes up after surgery) but is out of love - it will help her in the long run. If you start tearing up or crying in front of her (even though it is hard) she will get anxious and think it is worse than it is and will forever think of hospitals as a negative thing when in reality they can be positive places where people get better. The most important thing is for you to not to be anxious to RR and let her think anything is amiss. Kids can sense it. You need to reassure her and smile and really hide your anxiety (even though it is difficult). I speak from some experience-my son got his andenoids/tonsils out when he was 4 and my daughter last year went through 5 months of chemo. When I got her disgnosis I cried hysterically and teared up whenever I thought about it (I still do) but when I saw her and told her about the news I made up a cheer that she was going to beat it. I spent numerous days in the hospital with her and at home after chemo watching her in pain, vomiting, nausea and never let on in front of her about my worry that she would not make it through. I saw plenty of parents(unfortunately too many) with children as young as 3-4 months there undergoing treatment and beng brave with their kids. I know you can too. In terms of not being able to eat, give her a big snack the night before and just distract her when she asks to eat perhaps with a new toy/book.
Based on what little I know of almost-2-year-olds, don't tell her anything until the night before. She doesn't have a great sense of time right now, and will just stress over it for 2 weeks, not understanding what "2 weeks" means, or even what "soon" means in this case.
I think I am pretty much going to go the surprise/adventure route, and tell her as little as she needs to know, and as close to the event as possible. I don't think -regardless of her abilities in understanding and language - that she will grasp the concepts of time, or details of the surgery.
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