Day 7 (Monday) - Zing, zing, zing went my heartstrings

What a day it turned out to be! I had no idea what to expect. When I left MUH on Sunday afternoon to return to Double Bay to play with Ally, Kirsten was not well. She was hooked up to a blood transfusion, she was hacking through her throat hole. But, she was on the up, no matter. Just that I have no experiences of transfusions. Yes, she was drinking from the syringe. Yes, I had heard a few words. But but but ... motherhood saps rational thought.

Just before 8am I hoofed it over to Edgecliff to train down to Hurstville to help my step-mother apply to Legacy to become my father's 'war widow'. Did I tell you that Dad died on Monday 9th May and 3 hours later (3 hours!!) Kirsten was informed of the tumour! I digress. On Monday, at least the trains were working; they had been out all weekend on the North Shore line, and I did not have the patience or the headspace for busing it. I must remember to give all the taxi receipts to someone who can make 'use' of them! As I hoofed it, Kirsten sms'd that she'd had brekkie through a straw. Bugger me!

Then half way through the Legacy man's interminable form-filling-out session, a call came into my phone from guess-who? My heart was in my mouth to hear her voice on the line. And her voice it was. Yes a little like through a megaphone, but still her sound, with her vocal mannerisms. AND ... she said that Darren was taking Ally over after her morning sleep. Well, this made the Legacy man go even s-l-o-w-e-r!

Whoosh! Onto the train at Hurstville and 30 minutes later into Town Hall where I found an interminable wait of 25 minutes for the next train to Macquarie Uni. All up, I left Hurstville at 11:33 and into MQU just after 1pm. I cocked my head around the ward door, to have a 'talktothehand' come up, for Kirsten to swing her legs off the bed, between the shafts of her walker, and hop over to me. I regard myself as a tough old biddie, but that was too much. The flood-gates opened for only the second time! In relief and love though, not pain and loss.

She knew they (THEY) would be here any moment, and that she would hear HER before she saw her. Kirsten shaped to jump up and run over to them, and Darren was beside himself. I was concerned that Kirsten would feel emotionally scarred (not scared) if Ally rebuffed her. But K had thought it through. Really? Fancy her doing that!

Ally cried and made like a mountain goat on Darren. He sat down on the window seat. And she took a few peeks. Darren left them on the seat, and sat opposite. Gradually, minute by minute Kirsten brought her around. Sans cuddles. Sans intimacy. But much bonding. She called her 'Alannah-bear', she said familiar phrases, and tapped her on the nose. High-fived her. At one stage, a little smile played around Ally's mouth. Pretty much fronm there on out, Ally became a mad thing, charging around the patient time-out room. Much noise, much pumpling of little legs, and flapping of little arms. Much chorkling, as her mad-as father made like a tiger in the jungle.

Then a return to the room for Kirsten who was totally zonked. In between all this emotionality (huh?), the dressing on her throat was changed, and there was a lengthy conversation with an overwhelmed speechie. The progress was manifest. Absolutely manifest. And, the respect from the speechie could be cut with a knife. I like that. I like it when, confronted by intelligence and enquiry, some medicos are able to rise to the occasion and treat patients as sentient beings. Especially my daughter!

But still ... it scared the shit out of me when Kirsten emailed at 5:30 yesterday to say that, in all likelihood, Thursday (Day 11) would be discharge day. But but but ... I spluttered ... but what if this ... what if that ... what if another ... Phut! Mere triffles. Details to be sorted. Get a grip, Mother.

So, what does Mr Yeats have for us today? Hah! Just realised that "A Prayer for my Daughter' only has 10 verses. Remembering that I only started posting on Day 2, maybe I knew something! WHATever ... here be Verse 7:

My mind, because the minds that I have loved, The sort of beauty that I have approved, Prosper but little, has dried up of late, Yet knows that to be choked with hate May well be of all evil chances chief. If there's no hatred in a mind Assault and battery of the wind Can never tear the linnet from the leaf.

Note: A Linnet is a small member of the Finch family. It eats flax seed from which Linen is made. The Linnet's song is pleasing to the ear and contains fast trills and twitters.