Buckle up tight for this one, time to ride the Corona-coaster.
The last time we spoke I was taking cover after pushing red buttons, and merrily flipping the bird to 2019. Optimistic that despite some inevitable challenges ahead, 2020 was going to be good year.
In all fairness, it did start well. I completed my Geocaching DT grid, and received the exciting news that I had the honour of becoming an Ordnance Survey Get Outside Champion.
Look! Here I am Underneath Ben Fogle. Only time I can say that.
Oh the irony. Becomes an Outdoors Champion, then doesn’t leave the house for months on end.
As we all know, Covid hit.
As lockdown began my daughter became unwell, and she didn’t really get better.
She battled on like the Warrior Queen she is. Local Doctors wouldn’t help or see her. Diagnosed over the phone with migraines. Incorrectly. Repeatedly.
My heart breaking to watch her struggle, begging them to help her and each time dismissed due to a virus they feared. Any other illness put on hold. I’m even told my anxiety over her illness is possibly causing it. Ouch.
After months of fighting I finally speak to a Doctor who agrees she needs to be seen at the hospital. A few nights in and sadly we are none the wiser. We do however leave with a follow up appointment.
A week at home and things get worse, the worse they’ve been. Again no help from the local Doctors.
We make the follow up appointment.
Now desperate, I bring the consultant up to speed with an emotional outpouring. Something really isn’t right and nobody will believe me.
He takes a look in her eyes before declaring, ‘Mum is right. Something is seriously wrong.’
Hit by waves of both horror, and relief. Relief that someone will finally help my child.
Things escalate quickly.
Teams of Doctors are established. Tests run. So many tests. MRIs and Lumbar Punctures – now there’s a test you definitely never want in plural. Leading Doctors in the country all scratching their heads at the mystery that is my child.
Life changing surgery is needed, before it becomes life saving surgery.
In a matter of days I’ve gone from being told I’m giving my daughter headaches, to her being rushed into theatre for brain surgery.
Woah! Wait! What?
My wonderfully strong and resilient daughter, an absolute hero. Dealing with the situation with all the inappropriate humour, That’s my girl.
We’re told how brave we are, funny given that I’m an actual weeping mess. It’s a hellish situation and we have no choice but to go through it minute by minute. Is that brave? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Meanwhile the pandemic wages on.
People who should be there aren’t, and people who want to be, can’t.
We’re dealing with it alone.
A two week stay and we are back home with a gruelling medicine schedule to deal with, especially if you’re only 10.
Recovery slowly happening. Improvements slowly being seen.
Still watching and waiting to see what our future will look like. For now it’s promising, as we navigate our new limbo land – apparently a compass is no good to me here.
As lockdown eases, shielding for us begins. I just noticed that I ended my last post with the line; The outdoors always there to provide refuge when it was needed most.
A factor I’m definitely feeling as I approach my fifth month stuck inside. Difficult for sure, but for now, something else is needed more. Me. By my daughter. So for now the hills and woods can wait.
2020, My fighting pants are on and I’m talking wedgie level here.