December Better get Better REAL Quick-like

So… Indian hospitals.  We took Savannah to the one by our house back in May when she had a month of stomach issues – near daily vomiting after a pretty ugly virus – for an ER visit.  And she swore she wouldn’t go back to that one or any other.  My daughter is a bit of a medical wimp.  She gets it honest, really… I am not much braver.  I still faint when I have blood drawn.  But I am an adult and use logic and know when things need to happen and tests need to be run and so on.  She is a teenager and doesn’t quite understand all that.  Of course nobody WANTS to have blood drawn, injections or hospital stays.  But most people, when feeling bad enough, will concede and let logic take over the fear or emotion involved.  Not my kid.  She is SO hard headed.  She might get that honest, too…   I knew when she called me into her room around 5 AM on Monday that something was wrong.  I found her with a fever, trembling and looking pretty terrible.  I gave her a couple Tylenol, a big cup of water, a cold rag on her neck and lay down with her.  She had been complaining all weekend about knots on her head behind her right ear.  That pain, coupled with the fever was enough for me.  I sent Gideon a message to let him know we needed to get her into the doctor on the same day.  And last time we were there, the doc suggested a hospital stay to do all necessary tests in one shot.  Knowing Savannah well enough, I declined but kept it in the back of my head.  Monday morning I changed my mind.  I had to figure out how to break the news to my anxiety-ridden daughter.  I decided we were going with me sneaking a packed bag into the car and letting the doctor be the mean one.  Yep, I am THAT mom.  And it was a good plan.  Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to work because all her clothes, for once, were in her room and not out in the wash area (AKA dining area).  Dang it all!  So then I decided we would go with the love and logic route.  After giving myself a pep talk and knowing as long as I keep my emotions in check (have I mentioned I am a crier these days?) and sound positive, loving, and concerned, she will have to understand and agree that the hospital admission is the way to go. Right?  Wrong.  This child used every ounce of her energy, which wasn’t much, to argue, yell, physically get in the way of me packing a bag and then locked herself in the bathroom, refusing to go.  Yep.  My sixteen-year-old turned into a toddler.  And honestly, I expected it.  She’s terrified.  She’s sick.  She’s miserable.  And I was forcing her to do the very thing she was most against.  So after I raised my voice she left the room and let me pack her bag.  That was when she locked herself in the bathroom.  When I told her if she didn’t open the door I would have the maintenance men come by and take it off the hinges (and I was serious), she angrily complied.  I was too stressed to use logic anymore and emotion took over.  I cried when I told her I don’t know what is wrong with her and we can’t figure it out until she gets more tests.  I told her I was sorry she’s already had blood drawn three times and nothing has come back conclusive.  I told her I wish there was another way, but let’s make the best decision and get her admitted, get any and all tests done in one shot and get her well.  I reminded her she has already missed over FOUR weeks of school and if she really wants to graduate this year then she has to get back in there and get caught up.  I reminded her that in less than three weeks we are heading back to Texas for our holiday break and she needs to be healthy enough to travel, not to mention enjoy her time there.  I told her I don’t always know the right or best decision, but I know we need to do this to get her well.  She was still angry, wouldn’t speak to me, but got dressed.

We picked up Gideon on the way and she was silent for the entire car ride.  We met the doctor a little over an hour later.  He was concerned with her high fever, asked a few questions which she refused to answer since she was still in non-speaking teenager mode.  I answered most of the questions, but the doctor wanted to hear from her.  He is a nice man.  He understands her anxiety and spoke to her with compassion.  He explained that the tests already taken do not indicate what is wrong and he wants to do a few more and observe her.  She finally acknowledges him but says she doesn’t want to be admitted.  Ultimately, she was admitted and the first test to be done was a CT scan. 

Monday night passed pretty quickly.  She had quite a few visitors and she was in pretty good spirits (Thank you to those who came and took the heat off mean mom!)  There was no CT scan, though.  I asked at least five times and the nurses all said they were checking or the scan centre was full and would call when it’s time.  They never called.  When I went out at 3 am to ask for a blanket (again) and just stood at the nurse’s station until a blanket came, I asked about the CT scan.  One of the girls told me it was now scheduled for 8 AM and they would come get us.  OK.  Blanket in hand, back to the – oh, let’s call it a “bed” – in the room and a few hours of tossing and turning with a few naps woven in there, 8 AM comes.  Shortly after, I am up and walking to the door to go find out, and a nurse comes in, hands Savannah some hospital issue clothes to change into and a wheelchair for the ride down.  She does the scans for her chest and abdomen after a small wait and heads back to the room.  In the meantime, we snuck a visitor in outside of visiting hours (yes, we are quite the rule-breakers!) and she shared some smiles and laughs with her friend, Sandra, while we waited.  Not too long after Sandra left, Gideon came by to check on the patient.  She was still having the pain behind her ear and the usual no-appetite, but nothing else at the moment.  The nurse came back a bit later and said the scans were clear, which was good news.  But it didn’t tell us what was wrong.  Sigh.  After a couple hours, the doctor called Gideon and said she would stay another night as we wait for a fever.  It was sounding like malaria was the culprit, but it will often only show up during a blood test taken when the infected has a fever.  So, oddly, we were hoping and praying for a fever.  Praying for a fever and a diagnosis and a treatment plan and health.  But no fever came.  Tuesday ended, we are mid-afternoon Wednesday and there’s still no fever.  So it’s about time to start the discharge process, which is fine.  I am over being here.  Savannah is over being here.  There isn’t anything productive going on, no real monitoring of her food, drink or other levels.  Nothing I can’t do in the comfort of our own home, anyway.  Like everything else here, I am sure the discharge process will take time.  I don’t expect to leave before at least two hours pass, probably three.  Maybe they’ll surprise me.  (PS, editing from home and it took a cool 3.5 hours to discharge…)

So the next steps… wait for a fever.  Take her to local clinic and get a blood test if and when it comes back.  Make her eat.  Make her drink.  Pray.  Then, when we get back to Houston, take her to see her regular doctor.  Maybe the comforts of the good ol’ USA will help ease her anxiety and we can complete some tests there.  Suggestions include another blood test (won’t she be thrilled?) and endoscopy (another fun conversation, I am sure) to start.  We will bring all her records with us so he can see everything we have done and get his thoughts…

Changing the subject completely, and while I realize this is really long, I need to let you know that little Prasansha passed away last Thursday.  She was in a lot of pain from the tumors and left us around 2 PM IST.  Indian customs surrounding death are quite different than that of the western world.  Christians in India are buried.  Hindus are cremated.  There’s no crossover or option for this to vary.  And there’s no funeral parlor to come pick up the family member (she passed at their home) and prepare the body for burial.  Generally there is a refrigerated box brought to the home or a place of the family’s choosing in which the deceased is displayed for friends, family and neighbors to come and pay respects.  Or gawk.  Or who knows what else.  The Acheson’s did not want that, so they went with a same-day burial.  Fortunately, another family handled all arrangements when Prasansha first fell sick a few weeks back, so this was possible.  The casket people came to measure her.  Dr. Rajiv from our church came by and helped prepare her little body by cleaning and dressing her.  The service was set for 5:30 PM at a nearby cemetery.  The casket guys came back around 5 ready to pick up and transport her body.  Turned out the little casket was an inch or two too short. As with most things here, proper measurements were not taken and they eye-balled it.  And her little legs were bent at the knees.  Shawn mentioned this was pretty normal for India – “good enough” – but in the US (and Canada, from which they hail), good enough is NOT good enough.  We expect perfection and we expect above and beyond.  Keeping in mind her soul was gone to be with Jesus and it was only her “earthly vessel” – it had to be OK.  (I don’t know what they are called here, so we will keep referring to the casket guys as such.) The casket guys carried her downstairs from the apartment with no lid and put her into a beat up little van.  Again, back home this would not be acceptable.  The departed would be taken by a nice and clean, shiny hearse from one place to another, so this was just overwhelming.  The Acheson house emptied and we all went to the cemetery.  The most crowded cemetery I have ever seen.  Now, I don’t do cemeteries or ghost stories or scary walks around Halloween like some people do.  I don’t like to be scared, so maybe there are crowded cemeteries like this back in the US, but I am ok not knowing this.  We got there as the sun was setting and the casket guys kept telling Shawn and Sheralyn they should have done it earlier to avoid being there after dark.  Thanks for the newsflash.  Things happened as fast as India would let them, and we were all there now.  Sheralyn’s mom was Skyped in for the quick eulogy.  Well, I think it was quick.  I don’t remember a lot.  I didn’t hear what the pastor who was speaking said.  I remember they offered to let everyone walk by the casket, which was already in the shallow grave, before they put the lid on.  I chose not to see her after she passed.  She was very thin last weekend and that was hard enough for me to see.  I know she lost more weight in the next few days.  I wanted to remember her with her little chipmunk cheeks, big smile and sweet fresh head of hair instead of the sickly little girl who came in the last three weeks.  After everyone who wanted to had filed by, they hammered the lid on.  Yes. They hammered the lid on.  Drove the nails in.  Right there.   Man, it was hard to hear.  And to see the kids crying over the loss of their friend.  And sister.  Leroy, her six-year old brother, stayed in Shawn’s arms and cried during most of the service.  Realization that his little buddy had left was setting in.  Mcartney, her 11-year old sister, is more analytical and logical about it.  Or else the reality hasn’t made its way to her yet.  We will miss that sweet girl.  So funny, so happy, and so confident after only a few short months with the Acheson family.  We are blessed to have known her and will always have a little spot on our hearts carved out just for Princess Prasansha of Nepal, adopted by Canadians living in India. 

I am sure I have left out some important parts of the days leading up to and hours during and after and days following her death.  It has been a whirlwind of emotions here the past weeks and days.  I am amazed at the faith and strength Shawn and Sher are able to have during such a difficult time.  They came to visit Savannah Monday.  Less than a week after they buried their baby girl, they were here for us, offering moral, spiritual and support as friends and family.  I don’t understand how they can be at a hospital so quickly, but they are.  They know she is with our Savior, dancing and laughing, in no more pain.  They know she spent her last almost year building her confidence with the love of a family.  They know she died peacefully.  Loved by not only a family, but knowing the love of Jesus Christ.  We should all be so lucky to have that spiritual confidence at any age.  We will miss her.  The Acheson’s will host a celebration of life service next Monday or Tuesday evening so all those who could not attend her burial can help remember Prasansha.

OK.  So this is long enough.  I am hoping the next blog post will be about how Savannah is healed and back to her normal bratty teenager self.  We both thank you for your continued prayers and thoughts as we move through some tougher times here in India.  We are looking forward to a little H-town love from our family and friends in the upcoming few weeks.  And Tex-Mex.  I am pretty sure I’ll feel better after I have some Guadalajara in my belly… after a few big hugs from my parents, brother and family, and Michael, to start.  Again, we appreciate your prayers, warm thoughts and good vibes as we work to figure out what is ailing Savannah and for our safe travels mid-month.  You are all a blessing to us!  Love from Chennai!