The Evening After

This is what I get for skipping my morning visit.

Blech.

In spite of my efforts, I was unable to sleep well last night. Up at 3am, 7pm at home, I could not fall asleep. Not until the morning that is! Me? Jetlagged? Oh yes.

My remedy for this was to just stay in bed all day long. Will that help? Probably not, but that would never happen at home, would it? I took the opportunity to be lazy and rest.

So I missed my morning visit with Maxim. And so I also missed all the friendly faces that I generally see in the daytime. I half expected to be well received after having a successful court hearing yesterday. The night shift didn't even know who I was. Sigh.

I was confronted by a woman in blue scrubs...a nurse? Who knows, but she was trying very hard to communicate something to me...cover my face? USA? Epidemia? Oh, I got it. Due to the flu epidemic in the USA, I am required to buy and wear a facemask when I visit.

I don't blame them, with so many children in such a tight space. For me it's just a pain to go to the pharmacy and buy masks. Minor inconvenience.

However,

Maxim seems to have another syndrome...white coat syndrome. He took one look at me in a mask and started to wimper and reach for any arms but mine. He wanted nothing to do with me tonight. I finally snatched him from the caregiver's arms. My young friend Sasha crawled over to us and closed the grouppa door!

As long as he didn't have to look at me, Maxim was fine. I laid him face down on my lap and patted his back, trying to work out a little gas. Poor sweetie has been very bloated. I made up different tunes for pat-a-cake. He relaxed, passed a surprising amount of air, and nearly fell asleep!

Through a crack in the door I could count 13 children, some in wheelchairs, some on sofas, some on the floor(!!), all watching some TV drama. Soap opera perhaps? The clatter of dishes and the scooting of chairs broke the spell after awhile. The grouppa was preparing for dinner. Maxim started to wimper once again.

Using charades and best please, I asked to feed Maxim. They absolutely would not let me into the grouppa room, but sent out a bowl of food (bread, fish and potatoes) and a cup of kefir for me to feed him. The caretaker demonstrated the proper way to shovel massive bites into his mouth without allowing him to catch a breath. I said thank you, took the spoon and proceeded to give him tiny bites, making sure that his mouth was clear before giving another.

I'm not sure that Maxim appreciated my feeding style, but we both lived and I'm grateful for the experience. Spooning the kefir into his mouth was much more difficult and even more sad. I cannot even describe the way he swallows. It is unlike anything I have ever seen before.

Then it was time to go. I never want to leave him, but it's best for him until he learns to trust me better. I must not miss any more visits.