The bravest person I know

Abi and her mum, Hannelie, stayed at the Great Ormond Street Hospital (GOSH) hotel, last night, and had to be on the ward for 7am. By the time Dan and I arrived from Barking, it was half-nine, and Abi was already in her theatre gown and had the 'magic cream' on the back of her hands. 

She was in remarkably fine spirits for someone about to undergo surgery and her sense of humour clearly wasn't taking the day off. Eventually, we were taken down to the theatre. Only two people are allowed in, so I gave Abi a (long) hug and a kiss, and went to wait back on the ward. This was just after 11 o'clock.

We hadn't wanted to eat in front of Abi but once she was in theatre, the three of us headed down to The Lagoon, GOSH's canteen. The facilities at GOSH are excellent, including the Disney Reef, next to the canteen, where I took this photo. Of course, we aren't the core demographic for the reef and it was in the canteen that we spent the next few hours.

When they called us up to see Abi, sometime after three, she was still in recovery and barely awake. Her poor face was puffy from the operations, which were to remove cystic matter from her right ear and her throat. She was evidently emerging only gradually, communicating a little and then drifting back into unconsciousness. 

But what was amazing was that, over time, as she did begin to recover, and despite the fact she was feeling quite nauseous, she began to make little jokes and by the time we were back on the ward she was - despite the pain and the nausea - giving every indication of being, dare I say it?, cheerful. Absolutely incredible. 

Dan and Hannelie went out to get something to eat while I stayed with Abi who was now sleeping peacefully, quite a different feel to the semi-consciousness of post anaesthesia. I was very content to sit there with her and when the others came back, we stayed until Abi was ready to go to sleep for the night.

You know, the cystic malformation has been a hell of thing for her to deal with all her life, especially during periods of treatment in hospital, but through it all she has been, at worst, stoic and usually unbelievably cheerful and fun. She is, quite honestly, the bravest person I know. It's the amazing thing with having children: no one tells you that they'll be better than you. 

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Reading: 'Case Histories' by Kate Atkinson