Rose has made it out of the hospital! They are getting daily visits from nurses and doctors and have so many appointments back at the hospital next week we could just camp out in the carpark, but they are home. We are out of life and death and into recovery and adapting. There have been many tears. They are in severe pain. When it gets too bad their blood pressure goes up and their oxygen levels drop. They have a complex medication schedule with many conflicts that need close monitoring. The medications that are healing the lungs are risky for worsening the mrsa in the knee. The psych meds are risky with the antibiotics. They need crutches to walk, which the physio has suggested will be needed for the next two years. There’s a lot to adjust to.

We woke up yesterday morning before Poppy and held onto each other through a deep cry. That was really scary, and we have a lot of work ahead of us. Rose’s allergic reaction is so rare it has never been recorded in someone who is not over 65 and male. It will be written up so that other doctors are aware of that possibility, given how often it is fatal.

Shock and fatigue, dragging Poppy around to appointments and chemists and trying to gather everything we need to care for Rose and restore as much independence as possible. Depression punctuated with panic. Insomnia, irritation, grief. Vulnerability.

And every day, these precious moments we thought might not happen again. Poppy playing games with Rose and giggling madly. Shared dinner. Cuddles. I went and brought a bunch of craft things so we can sit together in the evenings. Rose has Lego kits, I’ve started a diamond painting with Poppy, and she has stickers and foil and a book of bugs. Mindless, mindful, soothing.

It’s really hard. We’re really lucky. Friends and family are helping keep us afloat with safe friendly company and connection. NDIS support will help take on more tasks that are too much for me, such as the driving to so many appointments. We snatch moments of hard won normality like lunch with friends, or a board game night. Breathe it in and find the tenderness and patience we need for each other, for recovery, for our new normal.