It's Tuesday again, and today I'm joining Melody's Tuesday Treasures again with somewhat of a long story to tell.
I hope one day my kids and even maybe my Grandkids will read some of the stories in my blog book and discover things they didn't know about me and our family. This is one of those stories that they should know....
Be warned, this could be a long story.....
About 11 years ago, unfortunately some of my memory of this event is a little fuzzy... My Mum went into hospital for a fairly minor operation. She went to a small private hospital on the north side of Brisbane, just over an hours drive from where I live. She was adamant that I should come to the hospital and stay with her. My Mum has "feelings" about things and this she was very insistent upon... that I should be there with her, and definitely be there when she came back out of surgery. I told her I would be there. I remember I was doing some hand quilting on a very large quilt at the time, and as my Mum loves butterflies, and I was there with her at the hospital, I quilted some butterflies in the block I was working on.
The surgery took longer than it should, but eventually she came back out and was recovering back in her bed. She was very sore and in a lot of pain. Now my Mum has a very strong threshold for pain, so I was a little worried, but the doctor assured me she was okay. Eventually I packed up and made the long drive home, although still worried that the pain Mum was experiencing didn't seem to be getting any better.
Later that night, actually about 1 a.m. in the morning...I got a phone call from the hospital. Mum was still in agony and they were taking her back into surgery to see what was wrong. I asked the doctor if I should drive back to the hospital, and he said "No".. things would be fine. I got off the phone and my husband, who also gets these "feelings" when something is wrong, told me in no uncertain terms to get myself to the hospital. So I immediately dressed and started the hour long drive back to the hospital in the wee hours of the morning. About half an hour into the trip, right near the city, I got a phone call from the hospital. It was the doctor and he was asking me how soon I could get there.. Things had gone wrong and Mum was in a very bad way... What I didn't know until later, is that in the operation they had perforated the bowel and my Mum had peritonitis, renal failure, and more...They were transporting her to another, larger, hospital that had an Intensive Care Unit.
When I got to the hospital, I parked right in behind the ambulance that was taking my Mum. The doctor basically told me I could go to my Mum and give her a kiss... It was quite possibly a kiss "goodbye:"
I didn't even recognise my Mum... she had tubes running out of her everywhere and her whole body had swollen up and she looked so different. It was heartbreaking.
I followed right behind the ambulance, flying through the streets of Brisbane, still very early in the morning. None of this seemed real. When I got to the ICU I was basically there for hours without anyone coming to see me or tell me what was going on. My Mum and Dad had been separated for years, but still remain great friends and it was my Dad who was the next to get to the hospital. He was my rock and over the next week that Mum was in the ICU, he was there every day making sure my sister (who had joined me there) and I were okay and were eating meals throughout the day. You don't know the strength of some people until they are put under severe pressure, but my Dad was a tower of strength and I don't know how I would have coped if he hadn't been there. My husband too was amazing. I just left him with the kids and I don't even know what or how he coped with work and the boys... My boss just said to take as much time as I needed and everything else just fell into place. I don't remember much of those days, all that I remember is that we were just there with Mum, talking to her, holding her hand, brushing her hair, laughing and telling stories, and crying lots too.Slowly, after about a week, my Mum came back to us... and continued to get stronger everyday. I can't believe how close we came to losing her.
If you're still with me, I am going to get to the crucifix..... This cross was on the walls of the IC unit right next to every bed in there. My uncle (my Mum's younger brother) came to visit one day with his partner. His partner worked at the Salvation Army where they made those crucifix's and supplied them to the hospital.. the exact ones. When I heard this I asked if I could get one for myself and my Mum and I think my sister.may have one also.
Every time I look at this cross I remember that time in our lives when we came so close to losing my Mum. I remember how precious life is and how we must remember to tell our loved ones how much we love them every day. I also remember to be eternally grateful that this was not her time to go.
Wow... I remembered more of that than I thought!
So this beautiful cross is on the wall of my bedroom and I see it every day and I am grateful every day that I still have my Mum. It is a real treasure of mine, along with my Mum... she definitely is a treasure as well.
Thanks for listening and letting me get that story out... I'd forgotten so much of it until now. I guess you try to forget the sad things in life as best you can. But I don't think my boys even remember that time in our lives as they were both so young, and it is something they should know.
Thanks so much Melody for hosting Tuesday Treasures again today..