Best Blog Ever . . .

Hi all!

I can hardly contain myself at the moment. I want to stand on the hilltops and shout out to the world “I’m going home!”. Yes, that’s right, I’m homeward bound. Here’s how it all happened.

Yesterday the paediatric-cardiologist arrived to do a sonar of my heart. The sonar was necessary to determine if the ‘pot-scourer’ in the fistula in my head had sufficiently reduced the pressure (shunt) on my heart to take me out of danger. I eagerly awaited the results of this scan, in the hopes that it revealed a watershed in my progress. Unfortunately the report would take a while to compile, which meant some more waiting. In the meantime I had begun to settle and the pain was starting to subside. I certainly wasn’t wailing as much as I was the day before.

I had a good night last night, partly thanks to drugs and partly thanks to the pain and discomfort subsiding. It turned out the thing that was irritating me so much was the liver biopsy. It turns out these are really painful. I awoke this morning to find my Mommy in my ward, doing her usual Mommy things. We spent some time chilling together, chatting, listening to music and feeding every few hours.

It was during one of our midday chats when Dr Hay arrived, beaming! I felt electricity in the room as she slowly started telling my Mommy that the sonar of my heart revealed that the last procedure was a success, and I was out of danger. I was thrilled! But that wasn’t all. Next Nicoletta, in a quiet voice, told Mom I was declared fit to go home. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Could this really be true? If I was able to speak I would have demanded my iPod be turned down, as I thought I was hearing things. As my Mom and Nicoletta chatted some more I realised it was for real! They were making plans for my discharge tomorrow.

Great excitement spread around the ICU and soon everyone was in my room. My Mommy was crying tears of joy as she dialled Dad’s number. Unfortunately Dad was in a work session with IBM and couldn’t take calls, so a SMS was dispatched. Next minute Dad called Mommy and the two where crying out of joy. Quickly the news spread through my Dad’s work session, and apparently his colleague, Cornel, had to tie him to the chair to try and keep him just a little focused on the agenda for the remainder of the afternoon. Mom hugged and chatted excitedly with me for the remainder of the afternoon, interrupted every now and then by calls and SMS’es as the news spread across the world!

Late afternoon Dad arrived, on a buzz. He couldn’t sit or stand still, and just held and hugged me, and then when I was put down, he just held my little hand as he and Mommy chatted to the nurses and doctors. Before long it was seven in the evening and time for the shift change. The day staff came and wished me farewell (as tomorrow they were off duty as another shift would take over), with lots of hugs, kisses and tears being shed all round. The evening staff arrived and the same celebrations were had all over again. For the better part of ½ hour all my ‘mommies’ were in my room, each one spending some time with me. Pulane was first, and had a long chat to me about how I would be missed, but on the upside, I would get a chance to meet her little boy. Lynette was next, and through the tears she bid me farewell, as I promised to come back and visit. Then hugs and tears were exchanged between the nurses and my parents, as they said their goodbyes.

Mom and Dad left for the evening, and for the first time since I’d received my news I was alone. I lay in my cot staring at the ceiling as I tried to imagine what tomorrow would hold. What was it like going outside? What would it be like to travel in a car seat, in a car, and not in an ambulance. Would I recognise what were the cats and dogs once I was home, as I’d never seen these types of animals. I was really scared I would confuse the two and ruin the relationship from the start of meeting them. From what I heard, the cats would be seriously offended if I referred to them as dogs. The dogs, on the other hand, can’t be too bothered with formalities as long as they are getting attention. What about birds and trees and flowers? And my room – I’ve heard a lot about my room, and even seen pictures of it, but to physically be in my room will be awe-inspiring. Then there is TV, which I’ve never watched. I have no doubt in my mind that my Mommy and Daddy will spend some time tomorrow evening watching TV, with me propped up in my baby swing, spending time together like a family should, with a weary cat nearby keeping an eye on me, the space invader. I can hardly wait for these types of experiences.

Well, that’s it for now. I need to get some major rest tonight as tomorrow will undoubtedly be quite hectic. Before I go though, I must ask my devoted fan base out there a favour, if I may? You have all been so wonderful in continuously sending me positive messages, keeping me in your thoughts and prayers, and dispatching hordes of angels, guardians, and archangels to watch over me and my medical team. Tomorrow, could I ask you all to do the same for a little friend of mine? Little Isabella arrived in NNICU about four weeks ago from the Eastern Cape. She has major problems with her digestive system, and has already had a couple of procedures to rectify problems. The last one was about two weeks ago, and since then her Mommy and Daddy, Helen and Mike, have been eagerly awaiting the outcomes of that procedure. Sadly the results weren’t as positive as we would all have liked, and subsequently little Isabella has to undergo major surgery again tomorrow afternoon. Since I’ll be home then, and out of danger, could I please ask all of you to redirect your thoughts, prayers, energies and everything else you all do so well to let Isabella to help her through this tough time.

Good night, and lots of love, hugs, and kisses,

Jarrod

Figure 1 Saying ciao to Pulane

Figure 2 Saying goodbye to Veronica

Figure 3 Lynette shedding some tears (of joy)

Figure 4 Lorraine and I pose