Letting go of the life raft

Lost at seaYesterday I received the news that Aidan’s primary doctor is going on leave to travel around Australia for a year or longer.

It was something she had mentioned last year but I told myself not to worry about it, that it would be a blessing if Aidan was still here when she left. But now the reality has hit and I’m both terrified and sad.

This is the woman who told us our son was going to die, the person who has fought for him time and time again, the woman whose very decisions have saved his life more times than I can remember. While Aidan’s diagnosis turned our lives upside down, she has been the life raft that kept us afloat.

I can’t even begin to describe how much she has done beyond her job description. While other parents struggle to get their doctors to communicate with each other, this amazing doctor has taken it upon herself to coordinate Aidan’s complex medical needs. If I have a concern, no matter what time of day or night, whether in her field of expertise or not, she is there for us. There have been many times we have bypassed the long emergency waits and many times she has referred us to specialists without having to wait months to see them. And it’s not just the medical side of things. Throughout this whole ordeal she has ensured Anthony and I are getting the help and support we need. She was the one who referred us to Bear Cottage and to palliative care when she thought we were ready to handle it. She never sits on the fence, as many doctors do, and is honest with us when she isn’t sure Aidan will survive an infection. I can’t imagine what this journey would have been like without this angel on our team.

So naturally the thought of losing her puts me into a spin. I won’t lie, there is a huge part of me that wants to throw myself in front of her and beg her not to leave. Perhaps I could chain myself to her car to prevent her from going. I know it’s selfish and I know I can’t even ask her to give up this opportunity to spend time with her children for the sake of mine, but boy do I want to.

I’m fortunate that all members of her team know us and Aidan’s complex medical history, they are all professionals and I know they are good at what they do but we trust this doctor’s instincts and we trust her judgement. Her presence in times of crisis is one of the few stable things we can rely on. Life has been going along so smoothly that I fear any change will rock the boat. I wonder if, like a football team who loses its captain, can we still win the match without her?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s