Tinge Of Guilt!

8^th March 2010

Went to Sophia’s parents meeting this morning. As usual she is storming ahead in class, but she has one particular piece of work that stood out in her folder. She had written ‘I miss my mummy’ with a picture. It is strange how something so simple can trigger emotions that you are trying so hard to control. I summed up that she must of written it when I was in hospital. I and Sophia are never apart long so for me to go for such a long period must of triggered her to write those words. Her teacher looks at my face as I pull the piece of work out from the rest. I did not cry, but I felt a surge of guilt run through my body. The fact I was in hospital and Sophia being so young did not understand the full impact of the situation made me feel guilty. I had asked Steve on various visits to hospital “Is Sophia ok?”

Sophia is like me she hides her emotions even though she is energetic. If I tell her off she will draw us a picture with a unhappy face on and give it to me. It is her way of expressing herself without getting mad or throwing a temper tantrum. I question how many pictures she might of drawn and no-one had noticed what she had meant by them. The words she had written were simple and direct. Maybe she should of come to the hospital at least once to see me.

I received a phone call from Hull Royal Infirmary where my fathers’ medical notes are held. I have to request the releases of my fathers’ notes through one of my two sisters. He had signed a form saying no other persons except the ones noted can see his medical forms. The hospital has to abide by his request even if he has passed away. So I give my permission for the receptionist to contact my younger sister so they can be released. Kayleigh had told me that my younger sister was not opposed to me getting the information I wanted. I was just hoping that this was not another false bit of hope being given out.

Later that day they ring me back saying my younger sister has granted my request, but she had a personal request of her own. What type of breast cancer did I have? The hospital must of wondered what the hell is going on. I explained that the family is divided and for some reason she is not listening because she has already been informed. So I said please tell her it is DCIS high grade invasive and I apologised to the receptionist for our immature behaviour. She explained it is nothing new to her and families arguing. That she would get the copies of notes in the post once it had been signed.