Panic attack

I had to go to Durbanville MediClinic (the hospital where Boeta was admitted first and where he was diagnosed) today.  The first time since we were discharged on 24 December 2008.

My dad is off-ish and was admitted so I dropped a bag for him (my mom had it all packed and then forgot it at home in the rush – guess who isn’t a hospital regular 🙂 ).  The children and I were busy swiping in at the gym (die oefenwinkel) when my mom phoned to ask me to bring it over.  So we U-turned right there and fetched it. 

Driving to the hospital was fine.  But as soon as the front wheels touched the parking area I had a panic attack. 

1 year, 7 months and 18 days and a healthy child later I freeze up and can’t breathe. 

I am still freaked out from that.  My chest is still tight and I am >this< close to bursting into tears since then. 

And I feel like the worst mom ever.  Because I dealt with my own issues by snapping at the kids.  They, of course, felt it the moment I went off the rails and wanted to be reassured of my love and devotion.  Whereas I only wanted a bit of quiet.  Huge clash in needs there. 

But all three of us made it home.  And Wouter took one look at me and asked if I wanted tea.