Ed had a bleed over the weekend in a tendon in his thigh. He was hobbling by the time he came home from school on Friday and couldn't climb into the bath by the evening. I tried to treat him and couldn't - I found the vein and then it popped as I was giving the treatment. On the other arm, I couldn't even find a vein and was fiddling around until he'd seriously had enough. On Saturday morning, I tried again twice and then had to admit defeat. Consequently we spent Saturday afternoon in the hospital until the nurses could find time to treat him.
I was mostly worried that Ed would lose confidence in me and start to believe that I can't give the treatment. He was in tears but he said he'd never thought I couldn't manage.
So tonight, when it was time to give him his weekly treatment - we were all pretty stressed although I was trying, probably unsuccessfully, to hide it. And I managed - with Ed giving me encouragement all the way.
It's bloody hard this - I got a telling off from the haemophilia centre for not bringing him in immediately on Friday night when I couldn't treat him, but I was making decisions which I thought was best for Ed. However it didn't fit with their treatment protocol. I can see their point but I knew that everyone needed to go to bed and that Ed would be ok until the morning - it would have been un-necessarily disrupting to have had to get in the cold car....
Anyhow - I'm so pleased that I can move on with confidence again - and that Ed can trust me to do the best I can. His pale tearful face on Saturday was desperate.
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