Tuesday 7 December 2010

Worrying

Because I have lost a child, I am acutely aware of the possibility of any child dying. It affects so much of what I do, and  colours so many of my decisions.
 I constantly want to restrict my 14-year-old daughter’s independence. I worry about her crossing the road. I worry about her leaving the house. I even worry about leaving her alone in the house. Ironically, I know she is incredibly sensible and levelheaded. And although I have these paranoid fears of losing her too, I keep a tight grip on them and refuse to allow them to rein her in too much. She’d disagree of course but, as a 14 year old, it’s her job to push for independence and mine to give it, a little at a time, as I see she is ready for it.
Last year she needed some minor surgery – just an ingrown toenail removing. A Dr at our local GPs had already attempted this under a local anaesthetic but it hadn’t numbed properly and had grown back. This time, she was adamant that she wanted a general anaesthetic. Knowing that a local is safer that a general, I pleaded with her to trust the anaesthetist at the hospital but to no avail – she wasn’t about to risk that pain again.
On the day of the surgery, the surgeon popped up to the day care ward to see us and I told him I was worried as general anaesthetics carry a statistically greater risk than local ones. He said, “Don’t worry – she’s in good hands. It’s a routine, very minor op ... and anyway, if you like stats, what really is the risk of you losing one of your children?” His mouth fell open when I replied, “Well for me, as of exactly four months ago today, it’s one in three.”
She was the first child to go into theatre and was out within 25 minutes. During that time, I had vomited three times and sobbed down the phone to my sister.
As she awoke, she saw me smiling at her and telling her it was all OK. I don’t know quite how I do that but I’m glad I can. I’d hate her to know just how terrified I am of losing her. I want her life to be lived to the full. Al may not have lived for long, but he lived at 200mph – he packed a lot in. And he was happy when he died. I want her to live a life that isn’t coloured by fear, for her or for me. I don’t want her looking over her shoulder worrying about me.

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