Last night, we had to change Vera's tube. Problem was, she was sound asleep and we didn't want to wake her.
I could do this easy, I thought. I'd done it before when she was sleeping and she didn't feel a thing.
This time however, it went awfully wrong.
Once I'd inserted the tube, she choked. That's normal. But then, her whole body suddenly became stiff, hands straight like rods, her eyes opened wide and staring.
Ian! Come quick! I called. The thought flashed through my mind: Is she having fits? Is she going to die?
Immediately, we pulled the tube out, and shook her. (Should we be shaking her?)
Ian carried her and thankfully, she started to cry. What a relief.
When she stopped, I started to cry uncontrollably. The shock and the thought that I caused it was too much to bear.
"Just do what's needed," Ian said. Meaning to reinsert the tube. Because it was time for her next feed.
So, much as I didn't want to, I regained my composure and did it.
I thought to myself, if I can't handle one small scare like this, how am I going to handle much worse?
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