Talking for England

The previous few days had really taken their toll on all of us, and we were all wondering how much more we could take. Thankfully, although Friday was a tough day, it was nothing like as tough as Thursday. Thursday you will recall was the day that Vicki was first taken ill, and then the following Thursday she deteriorated to such a level that she needed taking into Intensive Care. I figure that Vicki doesn't like Thursdays. What ever happened to not liking Mondays?

Vicki is still in Intensive Care, and is still sedated. Although she's not really aware of anything around her, the nurses encourage us to talk to her, as she will hear us, and recognise our voices. After a few minutes of adjusting to this, Tracey and I seemed to automatically fall into a pattern, I would do the talking, and she would do the comforting and hand holding. This team work was brilliant as those that know me will understand that I have a certain character that lends itself well to yakking. No, really, I hear you ask, yeah really.

While Tracey held Vicki's hand, and gently rubbed her arms, I went into oral overdrive. I would talk to her, and then pause as though waiting for an answer, and then I would carry on, talking as though she had responded.

Whilst talking to Vicki, Debbie rang, and as I was talking to Debbie, I would switch back and forth continuing to talk to Vicki. However, what I didn't realise was, that Debbie didn't know the score, so she thought I'd gone completely barking mad when I was doing this. Later on, when I was back at home and I was explaining what had happened she said "I thought you were being a bit weird, I heard you say 'we know Daddy's right don't we sweet heart' but I thought I must have misheard you!" A smile formed on my face in the realisation of how this must have seemed from her end!

I'd also spoken to Sarah earlier in the evening so I told Vicki that her year group at school had a massive card for her, and that many of the children and staff were looking at ways to raise money for her and for Leukaemia research. Debbie had ordered some Leukaemia wrist bands. (Have you noticed how I've suddenly started spelling Leukaemia properly now? Amazing what you can do when you find the Spell Check button!)

Although it is very distressing seeing Vicki in Intensive Care all wired up to numerous bleeping machinery, there was also some comfort in that she's resting, she's calm, and she's unaware of the side effects of her treatment, and that is something. Hopefully she will come out of Intensive Care in the next day or two. I know I keep saying this, but the next 48 hours are critical.

Suddenly, I realised that not only can I now spell Leukaemia, I can now say the word Leukaemia. In the last 2 weeks, every time I'd tried to say it, I'd stumbled over it, and often the word Chemotherapy would come out instead. Sometimes no word would come out at all. It seemed that my brain, perhaps, had finally come to terms with the situation. I guess it was subconsciously protecting me. Clever things brains, I really must thank it one day.