Beeps and bleeps – Life with an IV Drip.

You know that feeling when you’re just dozing off? You’re snug and warm and can finally relax?

Imagine then that there’s a machine, 3 feet from your face, beeping the same aggravating high pitched 3 notes over and over and over. A curtain swishes open and a torchlight illuminates the machine (an IV Drip) as someone turns the beeping off…

Aaaaah, back to the land of nod…….. But NO! The blasted machine starts up again, just as you settle.

10, maybe 15 minutes pass and you’re ready to smash the said IV Drip machine but you know that this would be dangerous. Very dangerous. You wait, unable to return to that lovely place you were enjoying and to which you’re desperate to return. Finally, you get out of bed, plod out of your sleeping space past the curtain and along a dimly lit corridor to a desk where a nurse sits typing at a computer.

“It won’t stop – it’s driving us nuts.”

She turns to you. She looks weary. “I’ll be there in a minute,” and goes back to her typing. You plod back to your bed, and lie in the darkness waiting. The beeping continues. 20 minutes later, the nurse arrives, does what has to be done (usually involving flicking air bubbles in a tube leading to the drip) and it stops, thank God.

You turn the low level light off above your sleeping child’s face and snuggle back under the sheets. And…… relax….. and…..

“Beep, beep, beep.”

“Beep, beep, beep.”

Now imagine that you’ve had the same pattern for 5 nights running. You begin to see why lack of sleep is used as a form of torture. This, on top of the terror of knowing that your child is being fed a poison to kill the evil cells which cause you to be in the noisy hospital ward in which you’re attempting to sleep. This, in addition to having no privacy at all and knowing that all eyes are (in the kindest of ways) on you to ensure that you’re staying sane to support that child. This, as well as knowing that your child has undergone major surgery in an attempt to eradicate cancer, with no guarantees that it has.

No wonder we were always so desperate for home…

 

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