This week has been a pretty intense week of tests for Bronwyn. She had a VCUG (a test for her bladder reflux) yesterday, and ultrasound today and she gets her 4 month immunizations tomorrow. The test yesterday they actually strapped her down to a table and then did other horrible things before taking x-rays.
She is always very upset. Often the techs and nurses say things like - She won't remember. I feel like correcting them. She may not have "memories" but she does remember. You can't convince me she doesn't remember. Anyone who has seen the look on her face when she sees someone in a long white coat would agree that she remembers.
The best way of describing what I mean is to tell a little story. For a very long time I hated Waterton National Park. Couldn't tell you why but I just hated it and I never wanted to go back. I grew up near Jasper and I have a real affection for the mountains so it was strange that I felt this way. And even stranger I didn't know why. Then one day a couple of years ago (20 years or so after the incident) I remembered why.
When I was very young (11 ish or so) we went to Waterton for a family reunion (my Grandma's side). Almost all of Great Aunt Annie and Great Aunt Signe families were there as well as all of our crowd. At some point someone decided that we should all go for a bike ride on these funny 2 person bikes they had there. They were side-by-side jobbies and not the usual tandem bikes you see.
Whoever had taken charge also decided it was a good idea to send two of the youngest kids out together. So Angela (2nd cousin on Signe's side), who was younger than me, went out with me in this fairly large metal framed monstrosity of a bike. It was super hard to control and eventually we hit a car. We did what any young offender might do - we looked around to see if anyone saw and we beetled out of there as fast as we could. It was a small dent that we left and in retrospect I am not even sure the car owner would have noticed. But I was CONVINCED that the police were going to come get me. The guilt and shame I felt over this incident had followed me through the years manifesting itself in a fear and hatred of Waterton.
Once I realized this it all seemed quite manageable and I stopped hating the place and would quite happily go there now.
Moral of the story is not that I think Bronwyn will wake up in her twenties and remember repressed memories of her first year and all the horrible things that happened. But I do believe she carries forward some of the fear and baggage of getting poked, prodded and bothered with.
So don't tell me she won't remember - that doesn't help!
Having said that I think one of the tests had a positive result, which I am just waiting to confirm. If it is good then I can stop giving her the needles. That would be great.
And we are after all so very thankful for all the medical care that we have received. We are daily thankful to have our girl.
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3 comments:
I heard some of the stories about when I was a baby and how I had a big needle in my head (feeding tube?) and was stsuck in an oxygen tent. I still really don't like needles but I can put up with them (to the point of volunteering to take allergy shots again!).
I don't remember ridiing those bikes ... the bike I did ride we continued on across Canada that summer.
Angela here. I'm guessing it was me on the bike and I totally don't remember any of that. So, maybe I was young enough and Bronwyn really won't remember, or I thought dents on cars from half scared little girls on weird bikes was just part of the family reunion! In any case, we are glad she is doing so well. Maybe she will also "remember" how her family was with her all along, how you hold her and love her after all the prodding and procedures and that she can make it through awful things.
It was you Angela. I didn't think you would remember.
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