Sam has just had two cannulas/ drips put in, one for Heparin, one so blood can be taken every four hours. To say that the experience was traumatic would be the understatement of the century. The cannulas went in quickly, first go, but the tapes would not stick to his skin to hold them in place, first through his skin having residue from the wipes used to removed the angel cream and then because he was so worked up through screaming and sweating, nothing would stick. They tried four times on one arm to get it to stick, and had to remove it each time. When it was finally sorted they then had to do the other arm while I sat on the bed holding him in vice grip, my legs wrapped around his.
With Sam screaming over 'NO, NO NO Not again!!'
Granny and Grandad were there too, struggling not to cry and as usual I remained resolute until he finally cried himself to sleep out of exhaustion.
Then I let my tears flow.
God is still here. He was holding me while I held Sam, and as I stroked Sam's hair while he slept, he sent my Mum and Dad to stroke mine.
Wish my husband was here.
The afternoon has to improve from here.