Five years ago today, my sister went into hospital for a fairly routine operation. It was to be keyhole surgery, and the recovery time was going to be short. My mother was staying at my sister's house to look after my 13-month-old niece.
That evening, I dialled my sister's number. It was my father who answered the phone, and I didn't immediately twig that this was unusual - he was still working full-time at that time, and should have been back at home after a full day's work.
Cheerfully, I said, "Hello Daddy! Is my little sister all right?"
There was a pause, and then the bottom fell out of my world as he replied, "No, I'm afraid she's not." Replaying that conversation in my head, I can still feel the emptiness that settled in the pit of my stomach on hearing those words.
The surgery had gone disastrously wrong, and she was in intensive care. The next 24 hours would be critical. Nobody knew whether she would live, and if she did live, there was a strong chance that the massive blood loss could have caused brain damage. The damage couldn't be assessed until she woke up.
We were talking about that day last weekend. My father asked my sister when she first realised that something had gone horribly wrong, and she replied, "When I woke up and saw you there." Obviously she was quicker on the uptake than I had been!
My father talked about how after the initial shock was over, we started to worry about whether her brain had been damaged. My SIL, who married my youngest brother last year and was hearing many parts of this story for the first time, lightened the mood by asking, "And was it?"
Since those awful days, my sister has had two more children and she and her children have continued to bring love and happiness to the whole family. Today she is a week past her due date with another baby - tired, fed up, anxious for it to come out and meet the world.
What a marvellous celebration of life it would be if the baby arrived today, on this anniversary of the day we almost lost its mother.
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Wouldn't it just be wonderful? I remember that day - your Dad made it seem not too bad when he called us, (trying to protect DH maybe, him being so far away) and then my Dad called and asked how it was going and we told him what your Dad had said and he drew in a breath and said "Oh Ch*&t..." Having been in the medical world for so long he knew exactly what had happened and we suddenly realised how deathly serious it was. He called your Dad, then your Dad called us back... many many prayers were said and thank God they were successful. Don't forget to tell everyone how you ran the marathon a year later to raise both blood and awareness after all the transfusions she had - I bet there are people still donating today because you did that. *HUGS*
ReplyDeleteTrue - it was about 18 months later that I ran the marathon, two weeks after Niece #2 was born. Over a hundred people pledged to give blood, including a very high proportion of first-time donors and some who were actually needle phobic but went ahead and did it anyway. I still get e-mails from a couple of them every time they give blood, so I know at least some have become regular donors. xx
ReplyDeleteI love hearing family stories like this. Obviously it was a horrible thing to have to go through and I can't imagine the pain of almost losing your sister but once you are out the other side and looking back and re-telling the story with your loved ones it becomes such a bonding story.
ReplyDeleteAnd I am so proud of you for doing a marathon! I'm glad Jeannie mentioned that! xx
What a scary story ... I'm so glad your sister pulled through. It certainly would be amazing if her baby was born on such a significant day.
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