Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Mickey is Dying

I was sitting at my computer, losing myself in a little Pinterest before dinner on New Year's Eve.  The Dancing Queen walked in, Mickey Mouse in her arms.  She had the saddest look on her face.

"Mommy, Mickey is very sick.  He may die.  He needs to go to the hospital."

I asked her, "Has he gone to your clinic for a checkup, yet?"

"No, mommy. He is too sick. He must go to the hospital.  Will you make it?"

I got up and went directly to the basement to build the hospital.  It had been waiting since Friday night when DQ got it as a gift from her aunt and uncle (the Editor and Car Guy) and I had to help save my grandmouse.

As I popped out cardboard holes, cut doors and windows, and folded tabs, DQ and TRex discussed the seriousness of Mickey's situation.  He needed a cardiac MRI at midnight (it was New Year's Eve remember).  Mickey was very concerned about the procedure, but DQ consoled him:

"Mickey, I know you are scared, but mommy is here.  I'll have to leave you when you go back with the doctors, but you need this.  You are going to die if you don't have your MRI.  The doctors will take good care of you until mommy can get back."

I asked DQ why she thought Mickey would die if he didn't have the MRI.  She said "Mommy, Mickey's just like me!"

"But, DQ, you're not having an MRI because someone thinks you are going to die.  You're having that done so the doctors can get better pictures."

Very seriously, she turned to me and said "Mommy, when you have an MRI, they put you to sleep. Sometimes, when you go to sleep, you don't wake up."

We discussed how scared she was to have an MRI on Friday.  I tried to help calm her nerves--tell her it is just like an echo cardiogram (which she thinks is fun), except she would be asleep.  I told her that the Mad Scientist and I would be with her, we'd bring Mickey and Lamby, her pacifier, and her computer full of movies.  She seemed to be okay, but then TRex said it was time for her to go to the waiting room as Mickey was going back to the MRI.

DQ held her baby close and told him that she loved him.  She promised he wouldn't be alone--that the doctors and nurses would take good care of him while she was waiting for him and as soon as she could, she'd be with him again.  She let him know it was okay to cry if he needed to and that she always loved him.

Luckily, the Mad Scientist saved me at that point by requesting that I help with dinner.  Otherwise, I would have had other things to explain.

I don't know whether to be sad or happy. I mean, I know I am happy that DQ seemingly understood what I was telling her, but so very sad to know she has to understand at 4.5.

Thankfully, today, I've been informed that "Mickey's heart is good. . . . Every day his heart bothers him, but today Mickey's heart is good."


  1. Be happy! You have done a good job of letting the D.Q. know what she needs and why. It sounds as if, although understandably frightened, she understands and accepts--quite a challenge at such a young age. Sending best wishes to the D.Q. and the mouse for a good outcome.


  2. P.S. It also sounds like a deviously clever way to get the hospital set up and to get to stay up until midnight!!



Having a child with a CHD is like being given an extra sense---the true ability to appreciate life. Each breath, each hug, each meal is a blessing when you've watched your child live off a ventilator, trapped in an ICU bed, being fed through a tube. Each minute is a miracle when you've watched your child almost die and come back to you.
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