Suddenly you don’t

July School Holidays 2014.  The week after,  actually.  But that's a long story.  I was staying in Buderim with Kirra's ex-husband. Kids being kids.  Dogs being dogs.  All the craziness that comes with six people in a two bedroom (and small at that) house.  Completely oblivious to the fact that my world was about to shatter.

It was Thursday afternoon, shortly after lunch, when Kirra’s ex brought me the phone and told me that Kirra's next door neighbour was on the line.  What she said to me was :  "Kirra's just been taken away in an ambulance and is not expected to come back."   Ever.  Period.  

My world crumbled.  

At the same time, the not knowing was worse.  I couldn't ring the hospital yet, they would still be triaging and testing, and I would only be delaying them.  I had been in emergency situations during my nursing training and knew the last thing they needed was the phone ringing.  I knew someone would call me when they knew the situation.  The phone was glued to my hand.  Waiting.  Waiting.  I was in no fit state to drive.  So I paced, and I paced then I paced some more.  Smoked a lot of cigarettes.  My mind spun out of control with possible scenarios, but I knew NOTHING.  Made some phone calls to family and friends to explain what I DID know, but still didn't really comprehend the situation.  Finally, late in the afternoon, I was able to speak to one of the doctors at Gympie Hospital.  I was told she was 'very very unwell' but despite many years of nursing training and work, my brain refused to register what it was being told.  In the stress of the situation, I made an error in my understanding of the Glasgow Coma Scale.  I knew it was serious, but the severity was yet to sink in.

They told me she would be flown by helicopter to another hospital.  It was eventually the Gold Coast University Hospital, as they had the facilities required for a correct diagnosis and neurosurgery if required.  She arrived there and was admitted, processed and declared brain dead.   It was then I received a phone call from a very lovely Doctor called James.  This was about 2am.  Then we had that whole 'I am so sorry to tell you this over the phone' conversation and I realised my girl was gone.  Absolutely beyond repair. You think you have the rest of your life with your child then suddenly .. you don't.  Her vibrant, beautiful flame had been extinguished forever.  A black cloud engulfed me.

Alison