Misty breeze wraps about my shoulders, thinly clad. I shiver not, despite the coolness on my skin. Comfort, I now feel. Is it you my precious Angel?

[chipmonkey]

Starting a new thread for our angel babies
Sylvie-Rose 16/8/11 to 4/10/11 too short my love, too short.

oh gosh expat I didn't know any of that- I certainly won't forget it now. how dreadful

Oh, there are some brilliant consultants out there. Professor Brenda Gibson is certainly one. She holds great sway among many, even in America, for many. She is a pioneer, a mentor particularly to female medics, whom she works hard, and always open, to contact with new medics and a propent of women in medicine. A professor now, she cannot be forced to retire. Good thing! When I, an American, sought second opinion from my home hospital of MD Anderson, as my sister knew the lead consultant's head nurse from when they were at university and my sister tutored her in Spanish, that lead consultant did what she could, researched as she could, there is only one trial for AMLs, and it is for those who have relapsed after standard protocol. And believe me, this haemotologist at MD Anderson is brilliant, a graduate of Harvard, but she herself is in awe of Professor Gibson, and her dedication to research and her interest in the genetics of leukaemia, particularly AML.

She is truly an inspiration as a doctor.

Because of her reputation and respect, as I said, my daughter was dying.

I went to her, and told her my child, I think she has a pneumothorax. I understand, she will die. But I do not want her to die under Richard L((((((( watch.

She just said, 'Then whom to you want?' I said, 'I would prefer Christopher Kidston or Andrew McMillan.' She took out a phone. I said, 'I shall stand outside your room.' She called me back in and grabbed her pass. It still read, 'Dr . . . ' I quipped, 'You should really get that changed, Professor.' And when she said, 'And you should stop calling me professor, forename expat, ' Well, let's go and see her off, shall we?

Believe me, though we all must die, there are worse ways to do it than what my Aillidh met. And they happen everyday.

And where is my calling? cafecitos is in being a doctor. Probably a very good one.

Just do it. Go ALL the way! All the way. The boy, with family, he'll be fine.

Sack 'em, cafe, sack the naysayers. You're in your twenties but I'm not here to patronise you. You just don't need this shit.

thank you expat. :) it's inspiring that there are people out there who still have a semblance of greatness about them.

I'm here at 3.30am wide awake eating yogurt attepting to learn a month's anatomy in one night while downloading random jazz from itunes

need to sort my sleeping out!

My aunt sent me an email today (this is rare) because I sent her one saying I was missing my grandparents, who raised me as their own and who both died in the past couple of years, and I know my aunt is upset about this also. she attached a picture of DD at the christmas she got ill, in 2008, when we were at my grandparents house. She looks so pretty I'm a bit scared I can't love DS enough, nothing will ever come close to how I feel about DD and the loss of her is just so profound sometimes. Seeing her little face, ouchy

hope everyone's weekends are going as well as can be

It's like a dagger to the heart when someone sends a photo of our lost children, isn't it? Or when you find them, and they're so . . . alive and smily and happy-looking.

Don't be afraid of not loving DS enough. Well, you're not alone. I feel the same way often enough, I'm just good at faking.

Was up till 4AM, and though it was productive in that I've got to the point where, if I can't sleep, I get up and force myself to do something, I wasted time watching 'Remember Me', nominated in 2010 for Most Depressing Film (by me, retroactively).

Am hoping going abroad will help sort out my sleep because we have to get up at 3 as our flight to Amsterdam leaves at 6 and also my dad has enough Valium stockpiled to kill an Army :o. Of course, now I'm all paranoid about going anywhere where a mass shooter could be looking for targets and, my mother being the drip that she sometimes is, will first visit Whole Foods for herbal remedies like Kalms and hitting the Valium at night.

Are you going to the US expat? I was up til 5... and then I went to sleep on my sofa (I think this was deliberate so I didn't get too comfy) and awoke in pain at 7 as I was lying on a file ... dear me... so my sleep might be sorted if I don't stay up so late tonight! I was going to go to samba school tonight (it's on the road where I live, never been before) and/or the gym but it's raining and I can't be bothered to go out again and for once I'm home before 10 so I shall actually start doing some work I've gained lots of weight recently so I'm trying to do some exercise every day but it's actually making me bigger I was too thin for a while but I've been comfort eating a lot and suddenly none of my clothes fit, I gained 2 stone since October. Ick.

I've never seen 'remember me'. yes the photos, they're tough. It's almost like looking at some kind of glassy other realm, none of it seems real, it's like she never existed and then I realise she did and it's overwhelmingly awful to think what happened and the magnitude of loss hits, then I go back to not even looking at photos. I've turned around a big frame of her photos, I haven't hung it up yet but filled it and was all happy with it, then suddenly couldn't handle her little face looking at me with her sparkly eyes and big lovely smile. I just cope by blocking it all out.

Yes. It's mainly so we can jettison the kids and I can actually spend an entire day alone. Or more than one day :o. And just pretend my pitiful excuse for a life belongs to someone else.

I need to start exercising. Ha! I lost 2.5st shortly after Aillidh was diagnosed and never gained it back, but I was also a lard arse at the time - it was from stress and living on fake RedBull and packet noodles and rollies and never sleeping more than 2 hours at a stretch.

' it's like she never existed and then I realise she did and it's overwhelmingly awful to think what happened and the magnitude of loss hits, then I go back to not even looking at photos. I've turned around a big frame of her photos, I haven't hung it up yet but filled it and was all happy with it, then suddenly couldn't handle her little face looking at me with her sparkly eyes and big lovely smile. I just cope by blocking it all out.'

That's how I do it. I met another parent on the unit, her 16-year-old son has leukaemia (ALL, now in remission) but one of her other sons died 12-years-ago in a RTA and she still can't look at videos of him and avoids photos.

Often I think it was all a dream. Her whole like was a figment of our imagination.

Her smile! That's it! Her big, beautiful smile and green eyes.

Ditto my mate who's 18-year-old son died of accidental heroin OD after a 4-year struggle with bipolar disorder 16 years ago. He goes to his son's grave, but his wife can't bear it.

Sometimes I think of her in terms of this Plath poem:

Mad Girl's Love Song

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

yes that's it. I really do feel she never existed, which is doubly awful really, because I am scared I will start forgetting her. I saw the photo and I was actually astounded by how beautiful she was. I had forgotten. And her little hands and the way she was holding a toy.. it's just not real. Is this normal? I don't know I am guessing it doesn't allow for a normal grieving process, but then there is no normal grieving process for a child, imo.

When do you fly out? I hope you get a proper stretch of time out

I think a lot of people do it, tbh, and there's no right or wrong when it comes to coping with such a staggering loss.

Aillidh made a number of videos of herself when she was in hospital. I can't bring myself to watch them. DH does, and I hear her voice and some mad part of me thinks she's still alive, for a second. Then I remember that she's not and I remember the absolute hell that were her last two months on this planet and how she met her end and I have to just switch off or I'll go mad.

I had a look at some of the photos the other day and it hit me that she really was here and she really was a baby. I spend so long talking to her, to her spirit, imagining her as a "being of light" that I forget she was just a little girl. The most beautiful girl in the world.

Oh Expat......did you climb inside my mentally ill mind for that poem?

Oh, chip, cafe and shabba.

Poor Sylvia made it up in her sadly mentally ill mind (her son committed suicide a few years ago, too ).

That Plath poem seems to be from the mind of someone who is just too raw to the sadness and pain of life. Lovely but painful

I feel quite numb at the moment - I have only cried once today and it took me by surprise. Last night was the first time in months I haven't woken up gasping with shock when I remember what sleep made me forget. I think I put DS in a little compartment in my brain sometimes so the rest of my mind can function and be 'normal'. I don't chose to, it just happens. Someone said make the most of the numbness, and I think she is right. I just live in fear of the next wave drowning me.

I like watching recent videos of DS. I think it makes him seem still alive and real. Not just a memory which distorts and fades. Sometimes the photos are ok, other times, they send shock waves through me. Sometimes I just weep and weep that the only things left are photos and possessions - they seem to be the saddest things in the world

'That Plath poem seems to be from the mind of someone who is just too raw to the sadness and pain of life. Lovely but painful'

She had trouble most of her adult life. Her father died when she was young, too.

Hi, night people!

:)

I'm not supposed to be a night person, expat, you're a bad influence!

Hiya love xx

I'm taking melatonin. On top of Piriton.

I know piriton - but I know nothing else!!! xx

Had enough tonight! Had enough of hiding tears and pretending Im fine thanks, how are you? Had enough of being married but never of being a Mum. In my body I am way past my years but in my mind I am forever 17. I am Shabbs, a wife, a Mum, a Gran....but I want to be 17 again knowing what I know now....does any of that make any sense?

Oh, YES! I want to be 31 again and know exactly what I do now.

17 would be perfect for me!!

I'd definitely have to go knowing what I know now.

tssk sleep, wherefore art thou sleep!

I'd like to be 25 forever, I think. Alas, the years of Mexican sun damage (no sunscreen!) means I look maybe 10 years older *sobs. Though I haven't changed personality wise since I was 15

That poem is so powerful isn't it. The one I tend to think of is Auden's funeral blues. I lke the simplicity yet heaviness of the verse, it really is how I feel. And there's the one by Rabindranath Tagore but I stupidly can't remember what it's called. [sleep deprivation!]