5-11 Nov 2010: Testing, diagnosing and 1st operation

Life at Annapurna gets into a calm rhythm very quickly; between meals and sleep, Victoria is blood-tested, ultrasound-scanned, MRI-scanned, CT-scanned and echo-cardiogram-tested, all of the tests showing very uplifting results.

Brain-damage seems absent; there is a lot of brain around the inner side of Victoria’s skull, and her echo-cardiogram looks like a normal child’s; in fact, the doctor’s are positively surprised.

 

What is more, the recent turbulence of Victoria’s life – being lifted, rolled, carried, washed, scanned etc. several times a day – seems to leave her unabashed. We play and talk and sing every day, and Victoria is now lifting her arms way above her head, playing little games with me and showing active interest in her surroundings – and she smiles at us.

I eat one Western meal a day at the next-door French restaurant, often together with Line and Mads – the rest of my meals comprise of traditional Nepalese food out of the hospital’s canteen, at one dollar a day or so. My morning showers are ice cold, as there is not hot water in the hospital’s shower facilities.

 

But I don’t complain; I have already overcome a big hurdle of this journey – to move Victoria and start her treatment. I am hospitalized with her now, and we sleep in the same bed in one of Annapurna’s deluxe private rooms.

But privacy is not a phenomenon known to the Nepalese, where space is scarce and poverty makes solitude a luxury that cannot be afforded; every 10 mins all day long, the door to our room goes up – no knocking! – and someone comes in to either clean, feed, ask, look, or check. It’s driving me crazy, and I end up locking the door from 8 p.m. and at least during the night, so that Victoria and I can get some sleep and privacy.

During this time, I feed, wash and change her myself – during the day, it’s done by Maya, the little didi whom we have hired as part of the treatment package to take care of Victoria 24/7, particularly after her first operation, which is scheduled for 9 November.

On that day, I am full of unrest – now, Victoria’s stamina will really stand it’s test, and as the operation is performed by Dr. Pant, I sit at the roof-top terrace and bite my nails while on the phone with Christian. Line and Mads are in the operating theater, with Mads taking pictures.

 

The operation takes ½ hour and goes well – within the next 2 days, 3 bottles of liquid are drained out of Victoria’s head, leaving it visibly sunken. She is coping well, eating and sleeping regularly and showing much more control of her eye movements, now that the pressure is gone from her head.