My story 1

July 9th, 2018

When I was born the doctor told my parents in his best broken English that he didn't think that I would make it through the night.  As a child I never understood the significance of that. I'd never seen someone be pregnant and see all their hopes and dreams of having a baby.  I didn't know personally what it meant to feel a soul nibbling around yours. The feeling of having a fully formed human stretch inside you.  The unknowable-ness of having a child, and yet, not yet having a child.  It must have been very upsetting news. Other than the fact that she must have been exhausted from labour, I don't know how she rested. If she even did.  The next morning I was still there. "Tubes all gone! Baby OK!" was the only explanation I have heard told. I had made my first ado on this earth.

I don't have many memories of or stories about my being sick, other than the usual childhood ailments, until I was six years old.

I was so uncomfortable. I couldn't find any position in which I could be still. I know I walked into the family room and tried to get comfortable in an arm chair.  I tried a couple positions, but nothing worked. I just didn't feel comfortable! I walked into the room and told my Mom that I just couldn't get comfortable.  I know she looked at me hard, and then said something to the effect of, "that's it, we're going to the doctor." She has told me my lips were blue.

I remember waiting what seemed like forever in a doctor's office, and then I remember waiting in another office for another eon.  I briefly remember a doctor saying that he wanted us to go to the hospital.  The next thing I remember, I had been in the hospital for days.

I had a mucous plug that was causing one of my lungs to partially collapse, and I believe there was a problem with the other lung as well.  I am going to need to speculate a fair bit, as I'm going on my patchy memories, and my memories of my mother's memories.  Hopefully it is readable. 

My theory is that due to the fact that my asthma doesn't act quite typically, they weren't sure what was wrong with me. I don't really wheeze, for one thing. All I know is that I was in the hospital for weeks and had to have a lot of tests. One test involved my having to have a plastic bag taped around my hand. I particularly remember that as I was eating my lunch at the time. 

I had to have a surgical procedure where they suctioned out my lungs, which required a general anesthetic.  I could tell something extra was up, because my Mom brought me a present from my Aunt Julie and was acting really weird. Then she told me.  I'm sure she tried to act all casual, but as a kid I could tell that something was up.  That she was hiding her emotions.  Then my Dad came to stay with my for the morning before my surgery.  This was back in the olden days when parents didn't stay with their kids in the hospital. My Mom visited during the day, and my Dad would come in the evening. I knew he was supposed to be at work, so I knew something major was happening. I couldn't understand why my Mom was there at the time, but I know now that she must have been very anxious, and that wouldn't have helped me at all. 

I was fasting, of course, and complained to my Dad about it.  He was very understanding.  I think I expected him to have more of an attitude of, "well, you can't eat." The same attitude he might have had if we were driving down the road and I stated I was hungry.  He seemed to feel guilty about it.  He decided to try to distract me by taking me to the games room.  We played "Sorry" until they came to get me.  The next memory is of groggily calling for my Mom and asking for a drink.  A nurse answered me and helped me drink.  She said that I could open my eyes, but I couldn't. My eyelids seemed too heavy.  I thought she wasn't my Mom and thought it was weird that she didn't correct me, but was too sleepy to care.  She had the most kind and gentle voice.  She was using a tone like she was dealing with the sweetest little thing, that she needed to be careful not to cry or laugh. Little 6 year old girl coming out of anesthetic.  Bless that nurse's heart.

Then I was in my room, and my Mom was there with this anxious/joyful look on her face.  I know I was confused because I thought I'd already been talking to her, and that she had helped me drink.  Then I got to eat jello.