Pookies Troubles: 4

I broke a promise
Posted Sep-26-07 20:13:22 PDT
I promised never to leave my daughter alone. Portuguese hospitals have different rules for primary care of patients. Once a person needs care; they are at the mercy of the doctors. No exceptions. Everyone just follows the word of the doctors and specialists.
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This does not sit well with me. I am an educated person who questions everthing. I am in a foreign country. No money, some language skills and I see things that I find questionable.
Patients in a coma need constant stimulation. From their family and friends but, we are not afforded that luxury. I want our guide here. I want to scream and shout. I want my old life back with my daughter's smile and love.
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Yet, I know I have broke a promise.
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I almost got in trouble
Posted Sep-26-07 20:25:01 PDT
Hubby comes out and I went in. It was just after shift change. I walked to my daughter after washing my hands. She is ashened and I can smell her before I get to her bed.
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I then look around to assess the room. There are no other vistors. Nurses are busy and the ward is clean and quiet. When I get to her bed; I touch her feet first through the blankets. I feel a stiffness that was not a good sign to me. I walk up her bed to her left and see the tubes keeping her breathing. Still in a coma, I pick up her hand and feel nothing but her pulse so I walk around to the right side to check the urine bags and medicines. I watch the screen of her monitors.
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I pick up her free hand and start talking. Just about everyday stuff; not talking about anything of global importance. I see a doctor out of the corner of my eye approaching and he is not happy. I see his squat face tight with anger. I know we are going to fight. I felt his demeanor and knew I was in trouble.
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He tried to push me away
Posted Sep-26-07 20:44:09 PDT
I was touching her body and singing to her. When he walked up in his assume role of care-giver and tried to take my hands from her body. What the HELL? I was thinking, as I ignored him. He then tried to push me away.
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I understood his broken English; he wanted me to stop touching her. He wanted me out of the room because he felt that touching her would cause another bleed into her brain. But, I knew she needed my touch and words to bring her back. To give her a reason to fight.
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He grabbed my hands again and tried to push them away from her. That is when I, in all of my motherly might grabbed his coat labels and told him to stop. I was bigger than him, I was going to rip him to shreds. I could have killed him. How could he tell me not to touch my daugther. (though I had not given birth to her, she was in my soul.)
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He then again tried to remove me from the room with force. He wanted me gone from her room. I then turned to him and said STOP. "She is not dead or dying. And if you put your hands on me one more time I will hit you in ways that you remember."
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The nurses were there watching this. I knew they were mothers I felt them wanting to help. Then one went into the waiting room. As I stared as the mini-man ready to pounce and way lay his authority.
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