The morning of the 25th after day surgery at Mercy Hospital, Christmas morning, we all woke together to share breakfast and presents, Sam at this stage of the game is doing okay, mumbling a fair bit, putting on a brave face. Her eyes are telling a story that she is not saying. We continued to prepare for the day, once ready and glammed up in my Christmas best, I raced upstairs to give Sam a hug and a kiss, as she wasn’t well enough to come to Matt’s family’s organised lunch at Bridgeleigh Reception Centre and was securely tucked up in bed with her face packed in ice, a hoody on, a doona covering her and the air-conditioning on. Should have twigged then that something was up.
|Heaven forbid that I have a photo of Samantha to show as she would shoot me, but at least here is the bed that she recuperated in.|
I didn’t want to leave her, but what was I to do, we were obligated and paid up, then to make matters worse after leaving Sam’s room, I fell down the stairs. A bit ouch but I didn’t have time to fuss and no one saw me fall, so I picked myself up dusted myself of and went on my merry way. The tops of my feet and hands and shins were smarting though, a few split nails and bruises was all I have to show.
|At least it was the bottom half and there were only 5 stairs.|
Well Christmas night was in fact a nightmare; this is two full days after Samantha’s surgery. Ice packs have been on her face pretty much 24/7. A rotation of frozen minted peas, ice packs, cold flannels, thought the minted peas smell might be nice, but seriously who likes minted peas? Sam has had at this stage, a little bit of soup, jelly and yogurt, to keep her stomach lined to absorb the medication.
We arrived home from the lunch to find her sitting outside, listening and watching a movie on her laptop; I thought she looked a bit pale, she is insisting that all is well. But her eyes were telling a different story, dull, lifeless and sad.
|That’s Sam’s eyes on the left, clear bright blue, unlike on Boxing day.|
I continue to prepare as much as I could for the evening, had in fact spent the last two days preparing all of the ingredients for a Tapas night, all was going well. Now I must admit to be waiting for Sam to crack it, as she doesn’t take well to medication and will often throw up, and she was on some serious stuff for pain relief.
Didn’t have to wait for long, people started arriving around 6pm, Sam quietly stood up and made her way into another room, then I saw her grab a bucket and lie down in a quiet spot.
I went in with some towels and wet flannels, and then she started heaving, it was smelly no denying that, and very green, I felt her forehead, that was hot but her body was cold. I figured then that she had an infection, that fact and the smell emanating from her mouth was all the tell tale signs I needed.
So I spent the night:
- Finishing the tapas plates
- Cooking one dish at a time
- Taking plates out to the guests
- Passing the food around
- Cleaning up after Sam
- Changing the flannels every half hour
- Changing the music
- Making teas and coffees
- Multi tasking like there’s no tomorrow
- Panicking about how sick Sam must be
- Oh joy……
|At least the table was pretty.|
Michael and Brittany offered to help with the food but thankfully I was organised and it was their night to. Besides by the time you give instructions I might as well as have done it myself, bit of a control freak sneaking in here isn’t there? Our guests were great and made the best of the night despite the somewhat absent host.
To be continued ……