MY BABY HAD MENINGITIS

The day my son turned eight weeks old, he woke us - again - screaming. I knew something was wrong because I had given him Panado just an hour earlier, and now his temperature was even higher. While my husband tried to calm the child in a bath full of lukewarm water, I tried desperately to convince the paediatrician to wait for me at the hospital. It was a Sunday. I had caught him on his early morning rounds, but he was due to take the family for an outing to Johannesburg for the day. I must have sounded desperate because he took pity on me. What I heard was a headmaster telling me to come...NOW! The screaming infant was bundled into his car chair and in a daze (I'm afraid, I tend to panic rather easily) I negotiated the quiet four blocks to the hospital, where I grabbed Deneys (my son)'s car chair and ran. The previous day we had spent a glorious afternoon at a child's second birthday party, and my baby had lain on a blanket in the shade of the tall trees and laughed, kicked and slept. We had plans for this day, too. I was to meet some of my husband's extended family for Sunday lunch. However, at this moment, in the quiet, clinical atmosphere of the hospital, I could think of nothing besides the doctor telling me that he had no choice but to perform a lumbar puncture - the possibility of meningitis was a real one. Meningitis. I am a psychologist and have had my fair share of dealings with brain damage. Meningitis was one of my greatest fears. The day she was due for the meningitis vaccine, my daughter had been jabbed. However, I had delayed my son's vaccination because of a slight fever the previous week. He was due to go to the clinic the next day. Our paediatrician told me that the spinal fluid was a bit murky, and that it would be best to admit Deneys while awaiting test results. I went to reception to fill in the necessary forms, but the nurse on duty took pity and did all the paperwork for me. I couldn't have written anything through the tears in any case. A few days later, I met a nurse who appeared to recognise me. I had no idea who she was. She remembered having seen me at the intake desk, and her heart had gone out to this woman whose image depicted despair and grief.

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