tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40930934493626113212024-03-19T14:12:03.733+11:00My Superfluous BlogA blog about nothing.Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.comBlogger274125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-24382927818597379292012-07-06T21:40:00.000+10:002012-07-27T22:41:18.770+10:00How many stones can one have?About a year ago I was diagnosed with a kidney stone. I posted about that <a href="http://mysuperfluousblog.blogspot.com.au/2011/06/oh-what-night.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />
However, since my diagnosis, I have continued to experience ongoing pain on my right, upper side, despite the fact that I no longer had any kidney stones. Several scans were performed, but nothing was found to be wrong. Yet the pain continued.<br />
<br />
Finally at yet another scan, gallstones were found. Many gallstones. As in my gallbladder was full of gallstones.<br />
<br />
"Did they just develop over the last couple of months since my last scan?" I asked in amazement.<br />
<br />
"No," replied the radiologist. "It takes a long time for that many stones to develop."<br />
<br />
So it turns out that the kidney stone I had last year, well that probably wasn't a kidney stone after all. It was probably a gallstone.<br />
<br />
I saw a specialist whose recommendation was to remove my gallbladder. Which is quite a daunting thing, when your gallbladder is a part of you and has some useful function! It was a hard decision to make. While I did have pain, it wasn't excruciating like some people experience. It was just annoying. But the problem with gallstones is that they are like a ticking time bomb. They can sit in the gallbladder forever and never cause a real problem. They can be released and cause pain, but safely travel through the body. Or they can get stuck and block off the liver and/or pancreas and lead to life threatening situations. In fact over the last year I'd had some blood tests done to see if that shed light on the pain situation and they showed mild liver damage. Over several tests the damage improved and then got worse again. I was already experiencing some damage to the liver.<br />
<br />
My surgery was on Monday and a stone was found completely blocking off my liver and pancreas.<br />
<br />
I still am questioning whether it was the right decision or not. Especially directly after the surgery when still in pain.<br />
<br />
I can't believe I chose to do this to myself.<br />
<br />
But my decision was made to lower the risk of long term damage to some much more vital organs.<br />
<br />
And with a stone blocking off my liver, it might have just been a matter of time until I was in the emergency room anyway. <br />
<br />
<br />Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-91966129727854822332012-06-04T22:04:00.000+10:002012-06-04T22:04:06.276+10:00Who will get your organs?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7BoTsPae9pd8PbKhqbTqvAGjzGera7VAercGXB3qQW374wvK6oIBHGVHhcDUstAQEfOjKTujyLiteLInTjjIXlYBqrRz7cs2ikMTdbYtbLIxiu9nzHtObFfpKqFs3IG8fwzYuqaxTB3E/s1600/OrganDonation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7BoTsPae9pd8PbKhqbTqvAGjzGera7VAercGXB3qQW374wvK6oIBHGVHhcDUstAQEfOjKTujyLiteLInTjjIXlYBqrRz7cs2ikMTdbYtbLIxiu9nzHtObFfpKqFs3IG8fwzYuqaxTB3E/s400/OrganDonation.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Did you know that Australia has one of the lowest organ donation rates in the developed world? And that each year people die waiting for a life-saving transplant?<br />
<br />
Part of the reason is that for a person to become an organ donor, their death has to be under specific conditions that will allow them to be a candidate. In Australia, in 2011, for example, there were approximately 146,500 deaths but only 730 of these were identified as potential organ donors.<sup>1</sup> However, out of these 730 potential donors only 337 became donors.<sup>1</sup><br />
<br />
There are around 1600 Australians on the organ transplant wait list and on average people can wait 6 months to 4 years before they receive an organ (but for some the wait is even longer and the longer they wait the more their health deteriorates).<sup>2</sup><br />
<br />
The interesting thing is the majority of Australians are generally willing to become organ (79%) and tissue (76%) donors.<sup>2</sup> <br />
<br />
So why were there only 337 donors out of 730 potential donors (46%)?<br />
<br />
The reason is that despite the fact that a large number of Australians are willing to donate their organs, it is your loved ones who will make the decision on whether or not to donate your organs when you die. And less than 50% of loved ones generally give their consent.<br />
<br />
When families are asked about donating their loved ones organs around 43% of Australians do not know or are not sure of the donation wishes of their loved ones.<sup>2</sup> Whereas, the majority of Australians (93%) that are aware of their family members' wishes agree and support these wishes.<sup>2</sup><br />
<br />
So while you might make a decision to donate your organs and even <a href="http://www.humanservices.gov.au/customer/services/medicare/australian-organ-donor-register?utm_id=9" target="_blank">register</a> your decision on the <a href="http://www.humanservices.gov.au/customer/services/medicare/australian-organ-donor-register?utm_id=9" target="_blank">Australian Organ Donor Register</a>, when you die it will be your loved ones who make the decision.<br />
<br />
That's why it is so important to talk to your loved ones about organ donation and make sure they know your wishes. It might sound like a morbid subject that you don't want to think about, but it only requires a few minutes to express your wishes. And expressing your wishes will increase your loved ones chance (93%) of choosing to have your organs donated.<br />
<br />
So who will get your organs when you die? <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<sup>1</sup> <a href="http://www.sbs.com.au/news/article/1628647/Five-myths-about-organ-donation-in-Australia" target="_blank">World
News Australia, Five myths about organ donation in Australia,
http://www.sbs.com.au/news/article/1628647/Five-myths-about-organ-donation-in-Australia</a></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<sup>2</sup> <a href="http://www.donatelife.gov.au/discover/facts-a-statistics" target="_blank">DonateLife, Facts and Statistics, http://www.donatelife.gov.au/discover/facts-a-statistics</a><br />
<h1>
</h1>
</blockquote>Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-33462556587156229112012-05-14T20:20:00.001+10:002012-05-14T20:20:37.560+10:00FearI received a letter from one of my mother's friends recently and in it she wrote of her regret at not seeing my mother for such a long time.<br />
<br />
My mother's friend lives in another country. The country my mother grew up in and left. They were best of friends growing up and stayed in touch by writing. The last time they saw each was twenty-six years ago when we were there on a family holiday.<br />
<br />
It's not that they couldn't have seen each other again during those twenty-six years. They both had opportunities to visit one another. But my mother wanted her friend to come here. And her friend wanted my mother to go there. And neither would budge. Not because they were stubborn, but because they were both afraid. Afraid of taking a journey on their own. And now it's too late.<br />
<br />
Fear is a powerful emotion that can prevent us from doing what we want to do and stop us in our tracks. But when you look back will you be glad your fear stopped you or regret not taking the journeys you were too afraid to take.Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-72338738965592631722012-03-03T22:27:00.002+11:002012-03-03T22:30:04.782+11:00To have no regrets.I recently read a post written by palliative care nurse, Bonnie Ware, about the five most common regrets of the dying. You can read the article <a href="http://www.inspirationandchai.com/Regrets-of-the-Dying.html">here</a>.<br />
<br />
In Bonnie's post she writes<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">Every single patient found their peace before they departed though, every one of them.</blockquote>While it is comforting to know that palliative patients find peace before passing, I know this is not the case for my mother. Between discovering she was terminal and dying, she only had five days. Most of which were spent in a tremendous amount of pain, sleeping, delirious or in anger and remorse. It breaks my heart to think that my mother did not find peace in her final days. She went to her grave with so many regrets and I wish I could have taken those burdens from her<br />
<br />
What it leaves me with is that not everyone is afforded the time to prepare for their death. Indeed my mother had more time than some. Time to process some regrets, to say "I love you", to say "I don't want to leave you".<br />
<br />
But some people's lives end in an unexpected instant. Recently I read about a local woman who was standing on a median strip, struck down by an out of control car and killed instantly. No time to process. No time to say goodbye. No time to say "I love you".<br />
<br />
Now's the time to live. To say "I love you". To make changes. To fulfil dreams. To work out what you want. What will make you happy. And to work out a way to do it.<br />
<br />
To have no regrets.<br />
<br />
Now.Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-76580516986988327712012-02-23T20:51:00.000+11:002012-02-23T20:51:38.620+11:00No reserves in place.Often when I mention that I no longer have much help with Maya, now that my mother is gone, I hear replies such as "I never had any help" or "I don't have any help either". The thing is these people's parents either never helped much anyway or they live too far away to help. And the decision to have children was made knowing their parents wouldn't be around to help. <br />
<br />
I didn't make such a decision.<br />
<br />
I always knew motherhood would be hard and I didn't want to do it without my mother's help and company. Of course Greg is a great father and husband and he does help a lot. But he works full time and he's away the majority of the time I am with Maya.<br />
<br />
Yes I know other people have raised children without the support of parents. But it's not what I chose to do nor what I wanted to do. It's not something I planned for nor thought would happen. <br />
<br />
When I decided to have a child I made that decision based on the fact that I would have my mother's support. <br />
<br />
And that support was suddenly pulled out from under me, with no reserves in place.Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-75728731463677970422012-02-11T16:18:00.000+11:002012-02-11T16:18:32.562+11:00Choose your last words.I can't stop listening to this song "Born to Die" by Lana Del Rey. <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">"Feet don't fail me now<br />
Take me to the finish line<br />
All my heart, it breaks every step that I take"</blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq">"Don't make me sad, don't make me cry<br />
Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough" </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq">"The road is long, we carry on<br />
Try to have fun in the meantime" </blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq">"Choose your last words.<br />
This is the last time.<br />
Cause you and I, we were born to die."</blockquote><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Bag1gUxuU0g" width="560"></iframe>Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-19736038672103802942012-02-11T15:53:00.001+11:002012-02-11T15:53:47.370+11:00All we know is what we have now.A year ago I discovered that my mother was terminally ill and I was told that she had two to three months to live. I remember thinking that two to three months was not enough time. And I said that in my post <a href="http://mysuperfluousblog.blogspot.com.au/2011/02/few-months-is-not-enough.html">here</a>. Five days later she was dead. And what I wouldn't give to have two to three months more with her now. What a blessing any time with her would be.<br />
<br />
Everything happened so quickly in the end. There were so many things to say. So many things I was unable to say. So many things left unsaid. And so many questions left unanswered.<br />
<br />
Of course my mother did not have time either. And while she started to reflect on her life and process everything, her life was over before she could finish. And it breaks my heart that she left without finding peace.<br />
<br />
We never know when lives will end. All we know is what we have now. And we know one day it will end for us.<br />
<br />
Now's the time to say what needs to be said. To ask what needs to be asked. To do what needs to be done.<br />
<br />
For tomorrow might be too late. xxTanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-8119196200315706102012-02-10T23:48:00.001+11:002012-02-11T15:37:54.984+11:00A reflection on 2011At the start of every new year, I typically reflect on the year just passed. And as I reflect on 2011, I could easily say it was one of the worst years of my life, having lost my mother so suddenly.<br />
<br />
Then it was hard to grieve in the way I needed to with someone so dependent on me. Someone who did not understand what I was going through. Someone who wanted my full, undivided attention. Someone who looked to me for strength and comfort, while inside I felt like I was falling apart. <br />
<br />
But Maya was also my light who helped guide me through and I was often able to get lost in her enthusiasm, energy and lust for life.<br />
<br />
And then there's the change I was finally able to make. Leaving a job I was unhappy with. Suddenly I had the confidence to leave without any backup job or plans for my future. I just knew I had to leave and better now than never. So I did. And it gave me some time out and space and led me to apply for jobs I normally wouldn't. It led me to attain a new job that I enjoy. And I am working there again this year with more hours and more opportunities.<br />
<br />
Life is too short to spend it doing something you are unhappy doing. Perhaps you can't make a change right now. Perhaps you have to work towards a change. But what better time to start than now. xxTanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-56980593043596509722011-12-29T22:43:00.000+11:002011-12-29T22:43:29.306+11:00The reality is, life involves pain.In this Blog I have been open and honest about my feelings - 'good' or 'bad'. And while it serves us better to focus on the positive things in our lives and to be grateful for what we do have. Lows are inevitably a part of our lives, and it's not always possible to maintain a positive focus during difficult times. The lows are as much a part of our lives as the highs.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">The reality is, life involves pain. There's no getting away from it. As human beings we are all faced with the fact that sooner or later we will grow infirm, get sick, and die. Sooner or later we all will lose valued relationships through rejection, separation, or death. Sooner or later we all will come face to face with crisis, disappointment, and failure. This means that in one form or another, we are all going to experience painful thoughts and feelings. - The Happiness Trap by Russ Harris</blockquote>Once I became a mother myself, suddenly there were a few whispers in my ear about how hard motherhood actually is. When I asked them why they hadn't spoken of the hard times before, they replied that they didn't want to admit it was hard. It's as though admitting motherhood is hard somehow makes us a failed mother. If I find it hard as a mother that must mean I am a bad mother. Yet it is the stories of the hard times as mothers that let me know that I am not alone in my feelings. Finding motherhood difficult at times, does in no way make me less of a mother or mean that I love my daughter any less or mean that I am not prepared to do anything and everything for her.<br />
<br />
I have also shared my journey this year of the loss of my mother. I dare say most people would find this a difficult period in their life. And I wanted to be open and honest about the roller-coaster ride of grief. Losing my father twelve years ago and now my mother this year, have been the hardest things I have ever been through in my life. My feelings are rife this year. And there is no right or wrong in my feelings. They are <u>my</u> feelings. <br />
<br />
Telling someone to 'get over it' or to 'focus on what they do have' is extremely unhelpful and only serves to diminish their feelings, which are neither right nor wrong, just feelings. It makes it not OK to talk about 'bad' feelings for fear of being judged "<span class="il">stupid</span> and shallow and selfish" by people who obviously cannot possibly understand.Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-49246362497877739682011-10-29T22:16:00.002+11:002011-10-29T22:18:38.998+11:00Questions.Maya asks questions. All the time. And I'm sure I've posted before that there are some questions that are easy to answer and some questions I don't know the answer to.<br />
<br />
The other day I was looking at a picture book with Maya. This particular picture was of a hot air balloon and the word was balloon.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUpnj_ntkA8IBjz_8ha9V535XlDY3tO4xbn_X16rWuibMBsaw1XzuLoVlVral_NO6sD46MNJr0gIDI9D_GM8a3k_UGkWGy_gOt4TgrmnTUQZ36_-1y22bSr1MVGLV5uwzNQJxx-rYsz9w/s1600/texas-hot-air-balloon-ride-gift-certificates-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUpnj_ntkA8IBjz_8ha9V535XlDY3tO4xbn_X16rWuibMBsaw1XzuLoVlVral_NO6sD46MNJr0gIDI9D_GM8a3k_UGkWGy_gOt4TgrmnTUQZ36_-1y22bSr1MVGLV5uwzNQJxx-rYsz9w/s320/texas-hot-air-balloon-ride-gift-certificates-11.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Maya pointed at the picture and asked "What is it?"<br />
<br />
"A balloon," I answered.<br />
<br />
Pointing to the basket below the balloon "What is it?"<br />
<br />
"That's a basket," I answered.<br />
<br />
Pointing to the picture again, Maya asked "What is it?"<br />
<br />
"It's a hot air balloon. That's the balloon part and hot air is put into the balloon and it floats up and it pulls the basket up and people can ride in the basket."<br />
<br />
Maya pauses for a while looking at the picture. I feel like I'm doing well with my explanations. I know that it's a picture of a hot air balloon and I know how it works.<br />
<br />
Then Maya asks "What's his name?", pointing to a man in the basket.<br />
<br />
"Err.. I dunno?"Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-30440626106764911582011-09-11T17:03:00.003+10:002011-09-11T17:10:50.071+10:00Swim Lessons.<div style="text-align: left;">Maya's swim lessons are all about having fun in the water whilst gaining swim skills.</div><br />
<table border="0" align="center"><tbody>
<tr><td align="center"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvTCfP9VDZ3iR_9QSJDY-eDgsHAH0V5kFEs75Vu6noPPjagf2EDRsOhpb9LrfWnkJvPWhU2lomJ1DnYIVQaqwiwNhSMZ5fIcyli9ckS-oJMZs6IS72o0me-T6M37npseABt8kqubybvE/s1600/IMG_3729.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXvTCfP9VDZ3iR_9QSJDY-eDgsHAH0V5kFEs75Vu6noPPjagf2EDRsOhpb9LrfWnkJvPWhU2lomJ1DnYIVQaqwiwNhSMZ5fIcyli9ckS-oJMZs6IS72o0me-T6M37npseABt8kqubybvE/s200/IMG_3729.JPG" width="200" /></a></div></td><td align="center"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6zmpDtNT6vhZ9qIDBRBsP2UOV0lX_wnu97Wkws3VB3KU7MWOK66IdBdIXrX328KmzHAfiu-g8jwFQFTfiDCcVWgAbUPYppV7U4CQFp4nfyA6xgHwXFzklb9OSljfTJvIvAffh4mj3VCQ/s1600/IMG_3741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6zmpDtNT6vhZ9qIDBRBsP2UOV0lX_wnu97Wkws3VB3KU7MWOK66IdBdIXrX328KmzHAfiu-g8jwFQFTfiDCcVWgAbUPYppV7U4CQFp4nfyA6xgHwXFzklb9OSljfTJvIvAffh4mj3VCQ/s200/IMG_3741.JPG" width="200" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td align="center"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY6K7AzNZNmdJLjG4puVOkM575OZcvKEIrkAyXGoLkhVE01eP4_n-jgsHTXsrDfiR_grkbwFUoOL-20F3t0Xr21GqQNLaW26nk7HdHVQwr-Mzh_HpzFaAUqs6iLTr7Z9o8i0IiYxQ7wUg/s1600/IMG_3744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY6K7AzNZNmdJLjG4puVOkM575OZcvKEIrkAyXGoLkhVE01eP4_n-jgsHTXsrDfiR_grkbwFUoOL-20F3t0Xr21GqQNLaW26nk7HdHVQwr-Mzh_HpzFaAUqs6iLTr7Z9o8i0IiYxQ7wUg/s200/IMG_3744.JPG" width="200" /></a></div></td><td align="center"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil71xU8mmS0xIMmPVLThECyZ5suJftCfIcEqTMb6ZGYE1hkyZVIroeScc2i69QyviM1G1ggSnO8nOoU7ddM0GPBt15q8JMqLy4XUpvaXE-qJsszRhrys6po2KkupmJg3kcZobFpuhk_4k/s1600/IMG_3790.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil71xU8mmS0xIMmPVLThECyZ5suJftCfIcEqTMb6ZGYE1hkyZVIroeScc2i69QyviM1G1ggSnO8nOoU7ddM0GPBt15q8JMqLy4XUpvaXE-qJsszRhrys6po2KkupmJg3kcZobFpuhk_4k/s200/IMG_3790.JPG" width="200" /></a></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Maya is wearing a little yellow hat in the video.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JzGcdtJzcHQ" width="450"></iframe><br />
</div>Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-28972490887698032462011-09-04T09:26:00.000+10:002011-09-04T09:26:00.398+10:00Happy Father's Day.<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/lSy1uH6TUaQ" width="420"></iframe>Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-79602767321928741842011-09-03T13:33:00.009+10:002011-09-09T21:33:47.684+10:00Unconditional Love.It hit me recently that with both parents now deceased there is no longer anyone left in this world who loves me the way a parent loves their child.<br />
<br />
A parent's love is endless, unconditional, boundless and unlike any other kind of love.<br />
<br />
And it is gone for me.Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-62121796193268355382011-08-21T20:53:00.000+10:002011-08-21T20:53:06.114+10:00Loss<blockquote>We who have lost have no physical sign, no outward scar that says, "Look, oh look, can you not see? I have lost so much." The scars are inside. - Rise by Ingrid Polson</blockquote>Imagine being in a horrific accident where you lost your leg. You would be taken to an emergency hospital, where a team of doctors, surgeons and nurses would work to stop the bleeding, and repair what could be repaired. You would then be taken to a recovery ward, given medication for the pain, have round the clock care from a team of doctors and nurses and when ready, work with physiotherapists to regain mobility, perhaps be fitted with a prosthetic leg and be offered the support of a psychiatrist to help you come to terms with the loss of your limb.<br />
<br />
And the extent of your loss would be evident to all.<br />
<br />
But when one loses a family member, there is no support. There are no teams of doctors and nurses with round the clock care. There are so physiotherapists to help you get moving again. There are no psychiatrists who come to see you and help you adjust to life without your significant other (of course you can seek the help of psychiatrists or psychologists, but my point is that YOU have to seek the help; it is not forthcoming).<br />
<br />
And the extent of your loss is not evident to anybody.<br />
<br />
I realise I don't know what it is like to lose a leg. But if I had the choice of losing my leg or my mother I would choose my leg. <br />
<br />
I also know there are people who have experienced much greater loss than I have (and Ingrid Polson is one of those people). But in my immediate group of friends and amongst family I do feel that I am truly worse off. That my losses have been more and greater than any in my immediate circle. And while I wouldn't wish the loss of a parent at this age on anyone, I can't help feeling that it's not fair that I have now lost both parents while most have lost none. Surely it was one of their turns to lose someone.<br />
<br />
I know life doesn't work that way, but why me again?<br />
<blockquote>How dare it be that our family had to go through this again! Were we not granted some kind of death and disaster immunity? And how could I possibly demonstrate how much I loved and missed my family? My body was not big enough to show the size of the scars, my failures could never be spectacular enough, there was not enough darkness in the world to wrap myself in. - Rise by Ingrid Polson </blockquote>There are those around me who have lost both parents, but later in life, at an age when you would expect to lose your parents. And their parents endured long term illnesses so it would not have been a shock to the same extent as the losses of both my parents were. And their parents died when their children were grown and able to support them through their loss.<br />
<br />
Maya doesn't understand what has happened to her Nana, nor does she understand that I am grieving or what grief is. She doesn't even understand that her Nana was MY mother and my mother has gone forever. Maya isn't a support or comfort for me in the way I most need. In fact everything I now do for her requires greater effort on my behalf due to the large, painful wound I now carry with me every day.<br />
<br />
A wound no one can see. Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-78618569936958405622011-08-15T21:52:00.000+10:002011-08-15T21:52:09.279+10:00A year ago..<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">A year ago today was the last time my mother made it to a family gathering. She was already experiencing a lot of pain but she wanted to come see Maya and I and she wanted to tell the rest of her family the news. </span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-xOCf1JuNQQEqQZ-r2GdFrpSg4RTRK7COGzpvf62raffn9YFF1L-5_TI6gaCkA4oxXTwrNcA3tEnipe3_7N48nUdIXrVFDydAMbAywwgAi0Tnr_ZWPXpJWQr3jrVCg-ecPhbKlUqSoUw/s1600/img_2857.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-xOCf1JuNQQEqQZ-r2GdFrpSg4RTRK7COGzpvf62raffn9YFF1L-5_TI6gaCkA4oxXTwrNcA3tEnipe3_7N48nUdIXrVFDydAMbAywwgAi0Tnr_ZWPXpJWQr3jrVCg-ecPhbKlUqSoUw/s320/img_2857.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">This is the last picture I have of my mother and Maya together. Now I wish I had continued to take pictures of them together when visiting my mother at home, at the hospital or at the rehabilitation centre. But I believed my mother would get better and why would you take pictures of someone who is sick and not looking as they used to? But now I lack pictures from those few months and that is something I regret. </span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"> Miss you so much mum and so does Maya. Forever in our hearts.</span></span></h6>Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-2327311253538678822011-08-11T21:39:00.000+10:002011-08-11T21:39:25.204+10:00Your turn.I decided to give Maya a ride on my back. I got down on my hands and knees and told her that if she climbed up on my back I'd give her a ride.<br />
<br />
When the ride was over, she hopped off my back, got down on her hands and knees, pointed to her back and said "Mum, your turn".Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-2243482932288097892011-07-29T16:04:00.000+10:002011-07-29T16:04:59.605+10:00First born.Maya is lucky to have a great grandmother still alive, who is my grandmother on my mother's side. What makes this even more special to me, is that my grandmother, my mother, Maya and I are all first born women. <br />
<br />
So when Maya was born I decided that I wanted a picture taken of all four of us together. My grandmother was 87 years old at the time and had lost her husband a few months prior. So I wanted to get the photo done sooner rather than later. But it was hard to organise all four of us together at the same time. Until Maya's first birthday when all four of us came together. But none of the photos turned out.<br />
<br />
I had always meant to try again and then forgot all about it once my mother got sick. But after my mother passed I lamented the fact that I never got the picture I wanted.<br />
<br />
Then recently my aunt turned up with a picture of the four of us. I had forgotten that we had all made it to my cousin's house warming together in December 2009. And my aunt had captured the four of us together on her camera.<br />
<br />
A copy of the photo now sits framed on my mantel. Four generations of first born women. And I can't even describe how grateful I am to have this picture. This picture I sought because my grandmother was of advanced age and could pass any time. <br />
<br />
But it turned out I wasn't racing the clock for her passing but for my mothers instead. And if I hadn't been trying to get a photo with my grandmother in it, I wouldn't have this photo with my mother in it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQQR5_tmAUD9DGP9kDtE1ho_I8fVmY1XjEgEwPloDNcBugFc23k_vrPnWKwEBsfoP1ZAadsc2ax7FG0-V4jQczOFr6nm9jkYUSyiivviQMNEcPQbXQOtyHJRKxGgdlFKx2Q2RLkS_XtE/s1600/PC051016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQQR5_tmAUD9DGP9kDtE1ho_I8fVmY1XjEgEwPloDNcBugFc23k_vrPnWKwEBsfoP1ZAadsc2ax7FG0-V4jQczOFr6nm9jkYUSyiivviQMNEcPQbXQOtyHJRKxGgdlFKx2Q2RLkS_XtE/s400/PC051016.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-11769348084321434622011-07-18T22:00:00.001+10:002011-07-18T22:06:37.574+10:00Wallace and Gromit.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikuRpb4KJSyZMysAmTftgVd0J5VgfOU85iYjH-ngxwoWM4Yyp85WOEyVtUogkUBZU9KTXrRSYf7GzHbn0Rv0pRByBlH0WDattCNXQ0aIgrePFG9wshzjUx6Go3HUoAyX4zd_5iZJezEb8/s1600/Wallace_and_gromit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikuRpb4KJSyZMysAmTftgVd0J5VgfOU85iYjH-ngxwoWM4Yyp85WOEyVtUogkUBZU9KTXrRSYf7GzHbn0Rv0pRByBlH0WDattCNXQ0aIgrePFG9wshzjUx6Go3HUoAyX4zd_5iZJezEb8/s200/Wallace_and_gromit.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>One of Maya's favourite shows is <a href="http://www.wallaceandgromit.com/">Wallace and Gromit</a>. It's about a guy (Wallace) and his dog (Gromit) and they get up to all kinds of adventures together.<br />
<br />
So when the decision was made for Maya to have grommets, we realised that this was a word she was already familiar with, as the name of the dog Gromit. What made the whole explanation even more complicated (amusing) was that her doctor's name is Wallis.<br />
<br />
Can you imagine the images those words would conjure up in Maya's mind?<br />
<br />
Saying "Maya Doctor Wallis is going to put grommets in your ears".<br />
<br />
Might be heard as "Maya Wallace is going to put Gromit in your ears".<br />
<br />
She'd probably be excited about seeing Wallace and Gromit but unsure about a dog in her ears. <br />
<br />
We decided to call the surgeon by his first name and tell her that she was having tubes put in her ears.Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-12828441782807359192011-07-17T21:29:00.000+10:002011-07-17T21:29:37.205+10:00Reduce, Reuse, RecycleTo minimise our ecological footprint we can reduce what we buy, reuse items where possible and recycle what can't be reused again.<br />
<br />
One quick and easy change that can be made is to switch to recycled toilet paper. It's a change Greg and I made many years ago but it seems this change isn't being adopted by the majority of Australians. According to <a href="http://wipeitout.com.au/home">Wipe It Out</a>, 95% of Australian's still buy non-recycled toilet paper.<br />
<br />
Using non-recycled toilet paper means that trees are cut down to make those rolls. Less trees means less homes for wildlife and affects climate change. <br />
<br />
Recycled toilet paper is comfortable to use and comparable on cost. And it is made from post-consumer waste, which protects more trees from being cut down.<br />
<br />
From <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_638878984">Zoos Victoria's Wipe for Wildlife campaig</a><a href="http://www.zoo.org.au/adx/aspx/adxgetmedia.aspx?MediaID=36327&Filename=WFW%20FAQs.pdf">n</a>:<br />
<blockquote>Things to look out for in a good recycled toilet paper product are:<br />
<ul><li>Manufactured from 100% post-consumer waste</li>
<li>Made is Australia</li>
<li>Uses no harsh chemicals </li>
</ul></blockquote>Choice has also come up with a list of which toilet papers to buy in Australia, which you can find <a href="http://www.choice.com.au/reviews-and-tests/food-and-health/beauty-and-personal-care/toilet-paper/toilet-paper-greenwashing/page/the-verdict.aspx">here</a>.<br />
<br />
And here's a little video to end off this post:<br />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/12995589?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0&color=47a637" width="400"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/12995589">Wipe for Wildlife CSA</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/zoosvictoria">Zoos Victoria</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-39188753454412153582011-07-12T21:27:00.000+10:002011-07-12T21:27:11.487+10:00Ecological Footprint.I have been thinking about doing a series on ways to reduce our environmental impact. This is a topic I am extremely passionate about. <br />
<br />
I believe we are damaging our planet at an alarming rate but there are things we can do as individuals to reduce our impact. And the more people who reduce their impact the more preservation will result.<br />
<br />
This is my opinion and it is a strong opinion. But it is backed up by current research and findings and I will present this research too.<br />
<br />
Being so passionate about reducing my impact on our world means I find it so frustrating when others don't seem to have this same approach. I wonder at times what's the point of me trying to make a difference if others aren't. I'm not sure if others don't care or don't realise the impact or don't realise that there are many small changes that can be made that all add up.<br />
<br />
I'm not saying I'm perfect. There are still many changes I could (and want to) make to reduce my impact. But there are some very easy changes that can be made quickly and I have made many of these changes.<br />
<br />
Today I calculated my <a href="http://www.epa.vic.gov.au/ecologicalfootprint/about/default.asp">ecological footprint</a> and my result was that it takes 4.1 global hectares of the Earth's productive area to support my lifestyle. What this equates to is that if everyone lived like I do then we'd need 2.3 Earths to provide enough resource. Yes I still have a way to go. But according to <a href="http://www.epa.vic.gov.au/ecologicalfootprint/ausFootprint/default.asp">EPA Victoria</a>, the average Victorian needs 6.8 global hectares of land to sustain his or her lifestyle. So I am doing better than the average Victorian.<br />
<br />
If you'd like to calculate your ecological footprint you can use the same one I used: <a href="http://www.epa.vic.gov.au/ecologicalfootprint/globalfootprint/index.asp">here </a> (requires Flash). Or there are others on the web if you search for 'ecological footprint calculator'.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiObRbL4_rKnFARWIMq_QpppiLQciUxYo-qDSlk_ZeKpEJy9AO3A_uw7Op453ybUGXBu2izij8lqxtM_daRy8mTwtO3FnxwCKVG7W1u5FV3N8JyS_zBJbM-DF0yAhN9SuMYjHlfpyKEnA/s1600/MyEcologicalFootprint12711.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiObRbL4_rKnFARWIMq_QpppiLQciUxYo-qDSlk_ZeKpEJy9AO3A_uw7Op453ybUGXBu2izij8lqxtM_daRy8mTwtO3FnxwCKVG7W1u5FV3N8JyS_zBJbM-DF0yAhN9SuMYjHlfpyKEnA/s400/MyEcologicalFootprint12711.png" width="400" /></a></div>Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-10889688822491644772011-07-11T22:55:00.001+10:002011-07-11T22:59:25.479+10:00Cattery.We're going on a family holiday in a couple of months and usually we leave our cat Cleo with my mother to look after, but obviously that's not an option this time. So I started looking into catteries. And I don't know much about them, because I've never used one before, but I came across one that just seems a little over the top to me.<br />
<br />
A stay at this cattery includes a free massage for your cat, happy hour every day with treats and your cat can even watch some TV.<br />
<br />
Check out the promo video<br />
<embed allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="303" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/go/getFlashPlayer" quality="high" src="http://www.wellcomemat.com/wm_video_1/BC2F2D63CE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="480" wmode="transparent"></embed><br />
<div style="padding: 5px 0px; text-align: left; width: 480px;"><a href="http://www.wellcomemat.com/video/BC2F2D63CE">Cats Conservatory</a> produced by <a href="http://www.wellcomemat.com/osbornevideo">Mark Osborne</a> on <a href="http://www.wellcomemat.com/">WellcomeMat</a></div>Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-41746281483326573612011-07-09T20:35:00.001+10:002011-07-10T19:04:07.980+10:00Identifying colours.One of Maya's favourite topics at the moment is colours. She wants to know the names of colours as well as what colour things are.<br />
<br />
I was feeling pretty confident about this particular topic. I am good at naming colours.<br />
<br />
"What colour is this?" Maya would ask, pointing to a red car.<br />
"Red", I'd say.<br />
<br />
"What colour is this?" Maya would ask, pointing to a green leaf.<br />
"Green", I'd say.<br />
<br />
Until Maya asked "What colour is this?", pointing to her nose.<br />
"Oh ummm.. errrrr.. skin coloured??"<br />
<br />
Is skin colour a colour?<br />
<br />
And then there are all those shades of colours out there that are a combination of tones, like well "greeny, reddy, browny coloured" or "bluey, purpley, black coloured".<br />
<br />
Hmm.. identifying colours is harder than I thought.Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-22510040280815681392011-07-08T22:55:00.000+10:002011-07-08T22:55:29.933+10:00Whatcha doing?There are still a lot of things Maya doesn't know or understand about the world. She regularly asks questions to seek new information. And currently she is very interested in what I or others around us are 'doing'. But she will not just ask about new events. She also asks about things she has seen many times before. She even asks me what I am doing when it is completely obvious what I am doing.<br />
<br />
Now a dinner conversation might go something like this:<br />
<br />
Maya: "Whatcha doing?"<br />
Me: "Eating dinner."<br />
A few minutes later.<br />
Maya: "Whatcha doing mummy?"<br />
Me "I'm still eating dinner."<br />
A few minutes later.<br />
Maya "Whatcha doing?"<br />
Me: *sigh*Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-64663152420705980122011-06-20T22:49:00.001+10:002011-06-21T23:02:35.453+10:00Oh what a night.Greg went away for work for two weeks. And one night, after going to bed at midnight, I woke at 2am and something wasn't right. My stomach hurt and I felt nauseous. My first thought was that I had gastro or food poisoning. But then the pain was getting worse and I'd never experienced pain with an upset stomach before, so I thought maybe the pain was causing my nausea.<br />
<br />
I took the strongest painkillers I had. And the pain seemed to ease from across my stomach but intensified on my right side.<br />
<br />
It was now 3am and the pain was getting worse. And I was home alone with a two year old. I was trying to think who I could call at 3am in the morning. I finally called a nursing hotline and the nurse established that while I wasn't experiencing something life threatening, I should get to a doctor or hospital as soon as possible.<br />
<br />
At 3am? With a toddler in tow?<br />
<br />
Now the pain was verging on unbearable. It was coming in waves and during peaks of pain I could do nothing but cry out and hope it would pass soon. Each peak seemed to last forever. And I couldn't stand it much longer. But what could I do? Take Maya to hospital with me? Call a doctor to come to my house? Call someone - a friend, a relative - to look after Maya? But who do you call in the middle of the night?<br />
<br />
I tried calling one of my aunts but no one answered. I tried again. Still nothing.<br />
<br />
By now it was 4am and the pain was just too much to bear. And that's when I finally realised what the problem was. I'd seen Greg go through the same thing two years prior. Kidney stone. I'd seen how much pain he'd been in and I had read at the time that kidney stones are one of the most painful experiences. And I was proved right when I had a CT scan the following day, which showed a kidney stone in my ureter.<br />
<br />
So 4am and I rang up a locum doctor service thinking my only option was to have a doctor come visit me. But when I was put on hold in the middle of a tremendous wave of agony, I hung up and called for an ambulance. I needed to go to hospital. And I needed to drag poor Maya with me.<br />
<br />
The ambulance took a long time to arrive. All the while the pain was at its absolute worst. My whole body was shaking in agony.<br />
<br />
And then suddenly there was a slight pause in the pain.<br />
<br />
That's when the ambulance arrived. <br />
<br />
The paramedics wanted to take me to hospital. But my 2 year old was asleep in her room. Could I really drag her to hospital in the middle of the night? The paramedics didn't recommend taking a 2 year old to hospital during the night while staff are stretched. They wanted me to find someone to come take care of her so they could take me to hospital. But I had no one to call. No one to come. Greg was miles away overseas. My parents are dead. My aunt wasn't answering. My other family is no help. I couldn't bring myself to ring friends in the middle of the night. My in-laws are all far away.<br />
<br />
I couldn't bear the thought of dragging Maya to hospital and the pain was easing somewhat. So I decided to stay home and see what happened. I finally managed to flop into bed at 6am and Maya was up at 7.<br />
<br />
I was completely and utterly shattered. I've never experienced exhaustion like it. I tried getting in touch with family but people either had other commitments or didn't answer their phones. I managed to find a friend who could help out for a couple of hours. She took me to a doctors appointment, for which I am grateful. But it was not enough.<br />
<br />
The doctor explained that passing a kidney stone causes trauma to the body. So I was surviving on a couple of hours sleep, with internal trauma to my body, some pain still and trying to care for a 2 year old - all on my own.<br />
<br />
I needed to be in bed. I needed to be sleeping. I needed to rest. But I couldn't.<br />
<br />
I felt so alone and missed my mum more than ever. She would have been there for me had she been alive and well. Greg of course would have been there for me too, had he not been overseas. I remember I had to drive him to doctors appointments, to his CT scan and I had to take over all household duties and the sole care of Maya while he recovered. While I had no help and no time to rest.<br />
<br />
I tried using the TV as a babysitter, so I could nap on the couch but Maya wanted me. She wanted my attention. I napped when she napped, but it made no difference to how I felt. And that evening when Maya would not go to bed for some reason I just burst into tears. It was just all too much. I had no energy. No energy to fight her into bed. I just wanted to go to bed and go to sleep. And Maya wasn't going to let me. She was probably feeling anxious about me. I hadn't been myself all day. And while I explained to her what had happened, she didn't really understand. So we cried together. For an hour. Until we both collapsed into wonderful, blissful, much needed sleep.Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4093093449362611321.post-91545900791016047372011-06-19T14:26:00.001+10:002011-07-17T21:50:54.377+10:00Grommets.Last week Maya had grommets (ear tubes) inserted into her ears, which was performed under general anaesthetic in hospital. As I said in my <a href="http://mysuperfluousblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/glue-ear-again.html">previous post,</a> I was worried about the procedure because there are always risks and I knew Maya wouldn't completely understand what was going on. However, I did try and explain as much as I could because I do believe it helps children prepare. (I always remember the story of my mother aged six years old being taken to have her 'picture taken'. She was put in front of a camera then a nurse from behind quickly shoved a gag with ether over her face, which put her to sleep, only to wake later coughing up blood, after her tonsils had been removed. What a horrible experience that must have been!)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVzHtSyCnNuviw9hPJzgdWWs_6mMgK0iTy6tof5TWIBqEVzCR2SnAY5uf2r5Lvpo4_yjhLflgFPpbGecTXBk1S1PIKgfG9fTL0CAfzMeXbUgzqjur4t-6ae2_WQobfpF-ELGTswzHON_4/s1600/IMG_20110615_074207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUVTrO_a0Cfg7FdsmjNnvylMF0yaZQEE-fTETH2T8r3G_ukaTKPCdkVU7488MsFgwDO52z3WKomHL8m8F2Lq8Pi8cBjarDLS2HQh-IVtrDStrHf77RvrVw9qFFNI6XK24a_mrf8Ff9iWE/s320/IMG_20110615_074146.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>In the end I was surprised how smoothly the whole thing went. We arrived at hospital at 7am, unable to give Maya breakfast, but she didn't seem to mind. She knew that her doctor was going to 'fix her ears'. We waited in a waiting room and read books together. Then changed into gowns for the procedure. She was so happy and relaxed.<br />
<br />
I was able to go into the operating theatre with her. At which point they placed a mask over her face, with general anaesthetic so that she would go to sleep.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVzHtSyCnNuviw9hPJzgdWWs_6mMgK0iTy6tof5TWIBqEVzCR2SnAY5uf2r5Lvpo4_yjhLflgFPpbGecTXBk1S1PIKgfG9fTL0CAfzMeXbUgzqjur4t-6ae2_WQobfpF-ELGTswzHON_4/s1600/IMG_20110615_074207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVzHtSyCnNuviw9hPJzgdWWs_6mMgK0iTy6tof5TWIBqEVzCR2SnAY5uf2r5Lvpo4_yjhLflgFPpbGecTXBk1S1PIKgfG9fTL0CAfzMeXbUgzqjur4t-6ae2_WQobfpF-ELGTswzHON_4/s320/IMG_20110615_074207.jpg" width="150" /></a>At that point I looked down at my vulnerable, little girl, with sudden wide, scared eyes, and I realised how trusting she was of me and I felt awful that I was putting her through it. But I am so glad I was there with her for this part of the procedure. I was able to rub her belly and whisper how much I loved her and that she was safe.<br />
<br />
As soon as she was asleep I was ushered out of the theatre. It was hard to leave my little girl. I now had to put my trust in the operating team.<br />
<br />
I headed back to the waiting room and the surgeon appeared ten minutes later to tell us how well the procedure had gone and that he had removed a lot of gunk (snot) from her ears. He went to check on Maya's recovery and ran back to grab Greg and I, where Maya was quite upset. The nurse was happy for Maya to hop into my arms and after a few moments Maya vomited and then settled. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4i7UZpEcmJUWLO_tHBCn2anDunLfqo6zY0eTrt9Jwfpm0FrX1RaXxiC22IscQr7O4Wrt9gY5uDotKSL1vlQZDd_GTNB6ayN7AYHmQ5ryt9JmbtpmlrA4Sq7rcGSRBa_K4tt1Njmk6uA/s1600/IMG_20110615_090425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4i7UZpEcmJUWLO_tHBCn2anDunLfqo6zY0eTrt9Jwfpm0FrX1RaXxiC22IscQr7O4Wrt9gY5uDotKSL1vlQZDd_GTNB6ayN7AYHmQ5ryt9JmbtpmlrA4Sq7rcGSRBa_K4tt1Njmk6uA/s320/IMG_20110615_090425.jpg" width="200" /></a> We were then ushered to recovery two, where Maya was offered breakfast to eat and afterwards we were able to head home.<br />
<br />
Maya hasn't shown any signs of distress except for the moments after surgery when she felt nauseous. It's as though nothing actually happened. For which I am grateful. But I do hope we never have to do this or any other procedure again.Tanyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04549830084990396707noreply@blogger.com1