Fundo diary part 4: Hospital blues

Days pass in the isolation room. The things that keep me sane are my man, my Mum and the fact that I can escape for a shower and a quick breakfast to Ronald McDonald House over the road – a luxury we never had last year because it was still under construction.

But these things don't matter to LG. He can't lie in his cot thinking well this sucks, but at least it'll help in the long term. All he knows is that he was feeling fine until we dragged him into hospital, stuck a mask on him and he woke up with a funny knot in his stomach that won't go away.

Every time a nurse or doctor enters the room he goes crazy. Every time we have to change a nappy (which we do, a lot) he sobs inconsolably. He has flashes of his old self – obsessing over cars and seeking out packets of biscuits with a hawk eye – but then he goes tired and listless. And who can blame him, trapped in the isolation room?

Then at the weekend we get the results of his poo test – negative. No bugs lurking in his digestive system. And although the runs continue, his eating picks up (which means even more steaming, noxious nappies, but we don't mind that.) He keeps it down, too.

It isn't until later on that I'm reading the fundoplication leaflet I picked up on the ward and find this note under the heading of possible side effects:

And it didn't occur to anyone to mention this??

Sheesh.

Anyway, after the clear test it's decided that we can go. He's not ill – it's hospital that's making him like this. We've been in exactly one week - the doctors did say it would be a stay of 5-7* days and they were right. We pack as fast as we possibly can.

As we leave the hospital behind, the tension lifts, and LG even has a little babble. Home is where the healing is.

*Please note, I wrote all these fundo diary entries offline in the hospital and it's taken me a few weeks to get them all uploaded - so ignore the dates on the blog as it makes it look like we were in hospital for three weeks!