Today we travel back to the hospital where E passed away to meet her doctors and discuss what happened. This is a daunting prospect. We start with a long train journey to get us there that quite frankly can’t take long enough.
I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to see those faces that fought so hard for E, and were clearly saddened by her passing. I have nothing but thanks for everything they did for E, they threw everything at her illness. It was just too strong. They were our heroes for that week. But I don’t want to see them again, I don’t want to be reminded of what happened in that room. I have to work to make sure my memories of E run no further than that morning when it all started. The memories after that are too painful. Of all the memories I have of E, it’s the ones from that room that snap in to the clearest focus. Everything is preserved. The long, lingering ache of not having E is enough to battle with. I struggle to hang on when my mind, my blasted wandering mind, takes me back. My best efforts to block those memories out will be fruitless for now. We are actually going back.
But we must. We need to know what happened as simply put, it’s still not clear. We need to know why E ended up in that room, and why she never made it out. We need to know our youngest isn’t at risk and we need closure. I don’t think we’ll get all the answers today, some will do for now.