Libby was stabilised and she seemed to be making good progress.
The medical team were keen to transfer her to a bigger city hospital to carry out more tests to see if she was okay. We consented to full body scans, MRIs and further tests, naively thinking they were trying to find what was wrong with our precious daughter. We had no idea that they were pursuing one angle only.
Tests revealed that Libby had suffered a subdural hemorrhage, the classic presentation for a child victim to shaken baby syndrome (SBS). The process snowballed and my daughter was transferred to a bigger hospital where a skeletal x-ray showed she had a healing rib fracture, the second classic presentation for SBS.
Their truth was now clear, they believed that one or both of us had shaken Libby and the response procedures began in earnest.
Tuesday, 24 March 2009
The starting point
This is as hard to read as it is hard to write.
I have masked details, not to protect myself, but to ensure that my family remain free from prejudice from anything I may say here. This sounds ominous, akin to political terror people live under in many countries but this could happen anywhere I guess and the personal tragedy my family felt was immense.
In 2006, while I was looking after my 8 week old child, in the similar if not exact way I had looked after my previous two children something went horribly wrong. My child had never been an "easy" baby, something was not right from the start, Libby would not happily settle and she seemed in discomfort and would cry loudly and often. As experienced parents we sought medical advice but were given inadequate answers and little help. This was just a baby thing.
This morning way back in 2006 was as normal as ever, my wife went on the school run with my eldest child and I stayed and looked after Libby. Libby showed her usual signs of being tired and I got her ready to rock off to sleep. By now she was crying more loudly, showing her usual signs of discomfort, something our friends jokingly put down to her being a girl and being more determined than boys. I swaddled Libby as usual and got ready to rock her off to music when suddenly she arched forward and flung herself backwards as hard as an eight week old child could possibly do. Instinctively I cupped her head in my hand and there was no impact. Immediately Libby's eyes rolled into the back of her hand, she began to slip away and struggled to breathe. Something was desperately wrong.
At this point my wife came down the driveway and I rushed to the door with Libby in my arms. We immediately rang for an ambulance and within what seemed like a lifetime, but was actually about 10 minutes, we were down at A&E with medics desperately trying to stabilise Libby.
Libby was stabilised and admitted to a paediatric ward where the environment soon changed. Gone was the caring profession and there suspicion in the air.
The medical mantra for anyone presenting a child with these kind of symptoms is that the child has been shaken, the victim of shaken baby syndrome (SBS). Life rapidly began to unravel at this point and spiralled into a progressive journey of nightmares.
This blog records what happened next and where we are now.
I have masked details, not to protect myself, but to ensure that my family remain free from prejudice from anything I may say here. This sounds ominous, akin to political terror people live under in many countries but this could happen anywhere I guess and the personal tragedy my family felt was immense.
In 2006, while I was looking after my 8 week old child, in the similar if not exact way I had looked after my previous two children something went horribly wrong. My child had never been an "easy" baby, something was not right from the start, Libby would not happily settle and she seemed in discomfort and would cry loudly and often. As experienced parents we sought medical advice but were given inadequate answers and little help. This was just a baby thing.
This morning way back in 2006 was as normal as ever, my wife went on the school run with my eldest child and I stayed and looked after Libby. Libby showed her usual signs of being tired and I got her ready to rock off to sleep. By now she was crying more loudly, showing her usual signs of discomfort, something our friends jokingly put down to her being a girl and being more determined than boys. I swaddled Libby as usual and got ready to rock her off to music when suddenly she arched forward and flung herself backwards as hard as an eight week old child could possibly do. Instinctively I cupped her head in my hand and there was no impact. Immediately Libby's eyes rolled into the back of her hand, she began to slip away and struggled to breathe. Something was desperately wrong.
At this point my wife came down the driveway and I rushed to the door with Libby in my arms. We immediately rang for an ambulance and within what seemed like a lifetime, but was actually about 10 minutes, we were down at A&E with medics desperately trying to stabilise Libby.
Libby was stabilised and admitted to a paediatric ward where the environment soon changed. Gone was the caring profession and there suspicion in the air.
The medical mantra for anyone presenting a child with these kind of symptoms is that the child has been shaken, the victim of shaken baby syndrome (SBS). Life rapidly began to unravel at this point and spiralled into a progressive journey of nightmares.
This blog records what happened next and where we are now.
First post
This I guess will be the hardest starting point for me... disembowelling my last several years of trauma and putting it down in ink, albeit electronically.
This bog deals with something that I hope will only touch a very small minority of people out there. I don't know how many of us there are out there, it is such a sad history that I guess it remains hidden in the dark recesses of people's tragedy.
I survived but now accept that I cannot change the past, there is no resolution only management and this blog is the starting point.
This bog deals with something that I hope will only touch a very small minority of people out there. I don't know how many of us there are out there, it is such a sad history that I guess it remains hidden in the dark recesses of people's tragedy.
I survived but now accept that I cannot change the past, there is no resolution only management and this blog is the starting point.
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