Yesterday we had X and M's school festival, so off we all trooped for a day of rides, sun and fireworks. When we got there, X complained of rib pain and said that it hurt when he breathed in, we took note and told him to tell us if it got worse.
When we got into the festival, M had her class performance; she was dressed as a pirate and looked adorable! She was very excited leading up to the performance, but as soon as they were heading up to the stage, her stage-fright took hold; her teacher sent me away and spoke to M quitely, and she was soon up on stage with the rest of her class - it didn't take too long for her to start singing and doing her pirate and actions. In the front row I looked up at her, and I was so freakin proud... a few tears may have welled up; she didn't take her eyes off me; she finished her performance and said she loved it. There's a lot to be said for facing up to your fears!!
Mum, myself, D and the two kids spent the next couple of hours whipping around on rides, and loving some time together. I had spent the last few days feeling pretty nauseous, and fighting an obvious bout of gastro, but still went on all the rides.... I truly love watching my kids have fun. Watching X go on a pretty fast ride with his friends was a thrill for me - I hate the thought that they grow up, but watching them find thier independance is satisfying. This motherhood lark can be a confusing bitch sometimes!
Later on in the evening we were watching the fireworks, and X came up and complained that his ribs were hurting again when he ran - so he sat with us and seemed to forget all about it. Getting home the kids pretty much went straight to sleep and I stayed up reading 50 Shades for the 4th time - I was still queasy and feeling quite exhausted. About 3am this morning, I woke up to X crying in pain - his rib pain had woken him up, I knew it was time for him to go up to the hospital.
Driving Mum's ute, with X in the front and D in the back, we set off for the childrens hospital - my stomach was churning with bile, it felt like it was eating itself, I felt a bit faint, and then my anxiety kicked in. What if he had a broken rib? Would child services interview us? Would i have a panic attack? and then the thoughts intensified... He's hurting when he breathes... is it a tumour? cancer? What will happen? I can't live without him. I tried to gain a bit of perspective and not let my mind trick me into this stuff... but ultimately, I'm his mama, I worship him, and I am gut wrenchingly terrified that something may be wrong with him. In my overthinking, overanalysing, quite ridiculous mind, I knew that if there was anything wrong, if he went, I went too.
At the hospital, he was hooked up to an ECG which tracked his heart; seeing this, the nausea I had been trying to forget for 4 days came to a head, and I reached for a sick bag just in time to vomit... great. Gastro and anxiety are not a fantastic mix... so, with spew bag in hand, I continued to answer questions, and talk to X, turning when the need to vomit came a few more times. The Dr checked X's ECG results, which were fine, and listened to his lungs, which were also fine - they decided they wanted X-Rays, but as that department wasn't to open for a few more hours, they gave X some pain killers and sent us home to return immediately if the pain returned. The hospital put his pain down to Musculo-Skeletal strain, and think that he had probably hurt it whilst coughing over the last few days.
Off we went home, stomach still upset, and fell in to bed. Bliss. I didn't really wake up until midday.
So, obviously I now need to work on my health anxieties, just being in the hospital made me anxious, which has never happened before; and I need to find a way to work around my catastrophic thinking. I never really realised how precious life was until I became a Mum, and I never realised the intensity of fear before; I suppose when you love someone so much, you have so much to lose. I suppose I have always been a 'what if' person, a bit of a worrier; who prior to getting sick, had the facade of a very strong person. Sometimes I really have to remind myself that I am still a strong person, a weaker person would have faced some of these trials and not come out the other side - but it can be a struggle to see that side of myself when my fears are talking over any rationality!
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