Thursday, April 29, 2010
Thursday April 29, 2010
Anaya is doing well today. She had a visit with Grandma and Grandpa Cassin - both of whom took turns holding her. I was quite proud of Grandma Karma - she held Anaya in such a way that she didn't cry for quite a while. It was really nice to see my parents. They live in Alberta and are really busy so they don't get to visit much.
There are so many things that I have become used to as being part of life with Anaya. For instance - she sleeps with her eyes open, I feed her every three hours through her tube, that sound she makes on the in breath is her crying, if she chokes you have to flip her upside down and pat her back and then wipe the mucous out of her mouth with a cloth etc. These are not normal things in most people's lives. This is part of life with Anaya though, and for me they have become routine.
I've certainly gotten some funny looks from people over the past few months when we go out in public. The worst incident was in New Denver on the way back from seeing Margaret Ann at Halcyon. It happened like this:
It was the crack of dawn on a crisp spring morning. The cabin we overnighted in had no power or running water. We dressed, payed our bill, packed up the baby and our belongings and hit the road. I fed the baby as we drove, a mixture of breast milk and the goats milk that had been recommended for Anaya due to her formula intolerance. After an hour of driving we arrived in New Denver and decided we needed some coffee and some breakfast.
We pulled over to a cute little white building which advertised hand painted clothing, cappucino and sandwhiches. The inside was clean and sparsly decorated with womens golf shirts that had handpainted flowers on them. Tacky if you ask me. Something an 80 year old woman would wear on a hot summer day.
The sandwhiches looked inviting and the smell of coffee held my attention. Standing with the baby in my arms I held her carefully to avoid pulling at the dressing that holds her feeding tube in her nose. The middle age woman with medium length brown hair behind the counter asked us what we'd like. I took her to be the owner of the place as you wouldn't often find a woman of her stature making coffee and sandwhiches. I ordered a mocha and a ham and swiss sandwhich. The sandwhich, being pre-made was ready instantly and I sat down at a nearby table to wolf it down.
I shifted Anaya into the crook of my arm and dove into my sandwhich. A few bites in Anaya started gagging and choking, convulsing slightly inwards over her stomach. She began vomiting and I held her towards the edge of my seat, so that the vomit would hit the floor and not my only set of clothes.
The owner lady behind the counter exclaims "Oh my God that is soooo Gross!"
Anaya heaves a few more times and I reply "I'm sorry, she's sick" and I proceed to wipe up her face with a napkin.
I raise my eyes to speak to the woman "Do you have anything that we can clean this up with? How about a cloth?"
She glares at me and says in an ice cold voice "I'll mop it with bleach when you leave."
Part of me wanted to explain to the woman that Anaya is not contagious, that she's having a reaction to the goats milk, that she's got a brain disease, that we're trying everything to save her life and that a little vomit is no big issue. The other part wanted to jump over the counter and throttle her for being such an insensitive snotty bitch. Fortunately my good sense took over (Brent led me away by the arm) and I said nothing except "Have a nice day."