A Long Way From Home

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A Long Way From Home Page 11

by Cathy Glass


  They snuggled down again, but a few more attempts later they gave up, and Elaine ran a bath for Anastasia, which she liked, and washed her hair at the same time. Elaine praised her immensely. Anastasia sat still while Elaine dried her hair and brushed it into a pony tail. ‘Good girl,’ Elaine said again, and felt pleased that she’d been able to successfully do this for her daughter. She and Ian then spent the rest of the afternoon keeping Anastasia amused and as quiet as they could, which was exhausting. Shortly after 5 p.m., with the intention of having an early night, they ordered room service for dinner, including a milkshake for Anastasia. She drank it down, didn’t want anything to eat, and was then sick everywhere.

  ‘That’s it, I’m going to phone Dr Ciobanu,’ Ian said. ‘Perhaps she’s ill.’

  He tried the orphanage but was told the doctor wasn’t there, so he phoned his mobile. It went through to voicemail and Ian left a message asking him to phone as soon as possible, as they were concerned about Anastasia. Ian then put the tray and soiled bedspread outside the room for housekeeping to collect. Elaine cleaned up Anastasia and put her into her pyjamas. Five minutes later Dr Ciobanu returned Ian’s call. ‘What’s the problem?’ he asked evenly.

  ‘Anastasia won’t eat anything and has just vomited,’ Ian said. ‘She’s very hyperactive and won’t sleep or eat. We’re wondering if she’s ill.’

  ‘I doubt she’s ill,’ Dr Ciobanu replied, an edge of forced patience to his voice. ‘There’s been a lot of changes for her in the last few days. It will take time for her to adjust as my notes on post-adoption explain. Not eating or sleeping properly is common in the first few weeks and is usually due to anxiety from all the changes. But as she has been sick, to be on the safe side, call a doctor to check her over.’

  ‘You think that is necessary?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you can’t see her?’

  ‘No. I stopped practising general medicine some years ago. The hotel will give you the name and contact details of a doctor. He can visit you in your hotel room. You will obviously have to pay him, cash usually, but the charges are reasonable.’

  ‘All right, we’ll do that,’ Ian said.

  ‘If there is a problem the doctor may want you to take Anastasia to the hospital for tests, but I doubt that will be necessary. Some of our children need hospitalizing but Anastasia is healthy. I’ve filed your adoption papers and I’ll be in contact when they have been returned.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Ian replied, and they said goodbye.

  Elaine, who’d understood the essence of what had been said, was looking at Ian, concerned; Anastasia, who’d heard her name mentioned, was looking at him too. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,’ Ian said, ‘but Dr Ciobanu is advising us to get her checked by a doctor. The hotel has the details of one.’ He threw Anastasia a smile and, picking up the handset, pressed the button for reception. He explained that they needed to arrange for a doctor to visit their child.

  ‘Is it an emergency?’ the receptionist asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Just one moment and I’ll find the doctor’s details.’ After a minute or so she came back on the line and gave Ian the name and phone number of a doctor, which Ian wrote on the pad by the phone. ‘Would you like me to phone him and arrange the visit?’ the receptionist asked helpfully.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘I’ll phone him now and call you back.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Ian said, and replaced the handset.

  Half an hour passed before the phone rang and the receptionist said the doctor would visit them that evening as soon as he was free.

  ‘Do you have a time?’ Ian asked.

  ‘No. He will visit when he has seen the patients at his clinic.’

  Thanking her again, Ian said goodbye. Now there was nothing to do but wait and keep Anastasia amused as best they could. Despite Dr Ciobanu’s assurance that Anastasia was healthy, they were worried. Supposing she did have something wrong? Would it delay them going home? They would feel far more confident if the doctors at home treated Anastasia, but that might not be an option if she was too ill to fly. She didn’t appear to be ill, far from it, and she hadn’t complained of feeling unwell, or perhaps she had and they hadn’t understood her. They had cash with them and knew from Dr Ciobanu’s guidance notes roughly what doctors charged, and that it was per visit plus any tests and medication required.

  They put the television on to try to settle Anastasia, and she watched it for a short while, then they tried some of the games they’d brought with them, and finally Ian gave her his phone to play with. An hour passed and then two. Was it their imagination or was Anastasia less active now? Perhaps it was tiredness, or was she ill? Ian looked up ‘ill’ in their phrase book and repeated the word to Anastasia, but she stared at him blankly. He tried tummy ache and pain but with the same result.

  Finally, around eight o’clock, a double knock sounded on their door and a deep male voice announced, ‘Doctor.’

  ‘Reception must have given him our room number,’ Ian said, going to answer. Elaine got off the bed and straightened the covers. The room looked a mess again. They were living out of cases and their belongings were everywhere.

  The doctor came in, middle-aged and of average build, and he shook Ian’s hand and smiled politely at Elaine. ‘So this is the child,’ he said, going to her. ‘What’s she called?’

  ‘Anastasia,’ Elaine said.

  ‘What is the matter with her?’

  ‘She’s been sick, won’t sleep and hasn’t eaten properly for at least two days,’ Elaine said.

  He nodded and spoke to Anastasia in their language as he took a stethoscope from his bag. He listened to her chest and her back and asked her some questions. She replied with a very serious expression. Elaine didn’t like to ask him what he’d said. Returning the stethoscope to his bag, he took out an otoscope and looked in her ears, then took her temperature.

  ‘That’s all fine,’ he said. ‘How many times has she been sick?’

  ‘Once,’ Elaine replied.

  He eased Anastasia down so she was flat on the bed and felt her stomach. ‘You’ve adopted her?’

  ‘Yes, two days ago.’

  ‘A lot of change for her then.’

  ‘Yes,’ they agreed.

  He finished examining her and helped her to sit upright. ‘Has she been to the toilet?’

  ‘Only for a wee.’

  ‘Her stomach doesn’t feel bloated and there is no soreness. Give her a choice of foods and I’m sure she will settle in time.’

  ‘We’ve been doing that but she doesn’t seem to want anything to eat. Also there are some sores on her back. I saw them when I bathed her.’ Elaine eased up the back of Anastasia’s top and the doctor took a closer look.

  ‘I’ll write a prescription for some cream to apply, and also some vitamin drops. The child will have a medical by your own doctor when you get home?’

  ‘Yes,’ Elaine confirmed. A medical was standard practice when adopting from abroad and had been mentioned in Dr Ciobanu’s notes and by other couples in the online forum. Many of the infants, especially the older children, were found to have iron and vitamin deficiencies from very poor diets, so it was important that this and any other medical conditions were diagnosed early and treated.

  ‘When you take her to see your doctor ask for a blood test,’ he said. ‘They should check her for HIV, syphilis and gonorrhoea.’

  Elaine stared at him, horrified. ‘Her mother wasn’t a prostitute,’ Ian said. They knew these tests were advised if the mother was working as a prostitute as some very poor women did, as she could have passed on the diseases to her unborn child.

  ‘And the mother would tell you if she was?’ the doctor asked, throwing Ian an old-fashioned look.

  ‘We’ll get the tests done,’ Ian confirmed, and Elaine nodded.

  The doctor wrote the prescription. ‘I’ll include a mild sedative to help her sleep at night,’ he said. ‘Give her one dose an h
our before bed. You can give her a dose before you get on the plane too, to help keep her quiet. Flying will be a new experience for her – it upsets many children.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Elaine said.

  The doctor handed her the prescription and picked up the notepad by their telephone and wrote again. ‘All children like these to eat,’ he said. Tearing off the sheet, he handed it to Elaine. ‘Is she drinking?’

  ‘Milkshakes,’ Elaine said.

  ‘Good. She’ll be fine.’ He patted Anastasia’s head, said something to her in their own language and she nodded solemnly.

  ‘Is she happy?’ Elaine blurted.

  ‘Yes, of course. She has you and your husband,’ he said in a similar manner to Dr Ciobanu.

  Ian paid the doctor and saw him to the door. Elaine took her daughter’s hand. ‘Don’t worry, love, I promise you everything will be all right.’

  Although the possibility that she might be HIV positive plagued her all night long.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Good Girl

  Anastasia slept very little that night, although she wasn’t sick again. The following morning, shattered from another broken night, Ian and Elaine drank coffee and took it in turns to shower and dress while the other one kept Anastasia amused. Once they were all ready they went down to breakfast. It was the same waitress as the day before, and being aware that Anastasia hadn’t eaten the porridge then she now suggested something different, which Ian translated as a type of scrambled eggs. Elaine also ordered a milkshake for Anastasia, and croissants and coffee for herself, and Ian ordered a cooked breakfast. While they waited Ian gave Anastasia his phone to play with. The food arrived and they’d only just begun when Anastasia, having drunk the milkshake but left the food, made a dash for the door. Ian brought her back to her chair and tried to tempt her with bits from his own plate, sharing the same fork.

  ‘Is that wise?’ Elaine asked. ‘I mean, if she has got something contagious you might catch it.’

  ‘I suppose,’ Ian said, and gave Anastasia his coffee spoon instead. She wasn’t interested in using the spoon to eat but loved the noise it made when banged against the edge of his china plate. Ian finished his meal quickly, gulped down the last of his coffee and they left the dining room.

  They returned briefly to their hotel room for their coats and then went down to reception and asked for directions to the nearest pharmacy. It was about a ten-minute walk so they didn’t need a cab. Pleased to be outside, Anastasia walked nicely between them, holding a hand each. ‘Good girl,’ Elaine said, praising her at every opportunity.

  In the pharmacy they had to wait for the prescription to be made up, and the woman who served them gave Anastasia a lollipop similar to the one she’d been given at the local supermarket. It seemed to be a custom for shopkeepers to keep a box of lollipops beside the till and give them to children who came in. As Ian paid he showed her the piece of paper with the name of the food the doctor had written down, and asked where they could buy it. To their surprise the cashier took a packet of what looked like biscuits from the shelf. ‘You sell them here?’ Ian asked. ‘They are biscuits?’

  She turned the packet over and pointed to the ingredients on the back, and they understood that the biscuits were fortified with iron, vitamins and minerals. They bought a packet, and on their way back to the hotel made a detour via the supermarket where they bought some more milkshakes, and bread and cold meats for their lunch. Anastasia was given another lollipop.

  They ate lunch in their hotel room. Anastasia didn’t want the food they’d bought but did drink a milkshake and ate three of the fortified biscuits, which was something. Obviously she couldn’t live off these biscuits indefinitely, but at least they gave her some nutrition until she was more settled and began eating properly. Elaine decided that as the biscuits contained added vitamins and minerals it was wise not to give Anastasia the vitamin drops the doctor had prescribed, as too many could be harmful.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon in their room keeping Anastasia amused, and then ordered room service for dinner at 6 p.m. Anastasia had only a few mouthfuls but ate another three fortified biscuits and drank another milkshake. Elaine gave her a bath, and an hour before her bedtime a spoonful of the sedative. They lay with her on their bed and looked at some children’s books as she gradually grew drowsy and finally fell asleep. Ian carefully lifted her from their bed and tucked her into hers, where she remained asleep until nearly 7 a.m.

  ‘I must be dreaming!’ Ian said when they woke. And what a difference a good night’s sleep made. Physically and emotionally refreshed, Elaine especially felt like a different person and was ready to face anything the day held. With more patience for Anastasia, her confidence in her role grew and she also made time for Ian, for out of necessity their relationship had taken second place.

  During the next seven days, while they waited for their documents to be processed, their routine was largely unchanged. They went out each day to buy more fortified biscuits, milkshakes, lunch and whatever else they needed, and sometimes to the park, but it was too cold to stay long. Sometimes Ian said he had cabin fever and went for a walk around the block while Elaine stayed with Anastasia and had some mother-and-daughter time. Each evening, after Anastasia had her bath, Elaine gave her a dose of the sedative, and their sleeping routine returned to near normal. Although Elaine still woke at night worrying about Anastasia, especially her health. In addition to the massive concern that Anastasia might be HIV positive or have another disease passed on to her by her mother, she still wasn’t eating, rarely spoke to them, even in her own language, and hadn’t done a proper poo. The latter was doubtless due to her living on milkshakes and biscuits, but it was something else Elaine would need to see the doctor about on their return. She had a list and it was growing.

  When Dr Ciobanu finally telephoned to say that Anastasia’s passport, visa and new birth certificate were ready and they could confirm their flight home, they were ecstatic. Ian took a cab to the orphanage where Dr Ciobanu had his office and Elaine stayed with Anastasia. There was no need for them all to go and it could have been unsettling for Anastasia to revisit the orphanage. Ian was gone for an hour and returned clutching Anastasia’s passport, which he proudly showed them. Elaine was delighted – they were finally going home.

  They texted family, friends and their neighbour to let them know when they were returning, then the only things left to do were pack and book the cab to take them to the airport, which they did at reception. They said that if possible they’d like the cab driver Danny to take them. They hadn’t seen him since he’d collected them from the airport and they wanted to say goodbye and thank him for all those trips to the orphanage when his happy, upbeat chat had been very welcome. The receptionist said she’d pass on their request to the cab firm.

  Two days later they were up early with the intention of having a quick breakfast before they had to leave for the airport. It didn’t happen. It took far longer than they’d anticipated to get Anastasia ready, as she’d become unsettled and hyperactive by all the activity going on around. They tried to explain, using words from their phrase book, that they were all going home, but to no avail. She ran around the room banging on doors and trying to take items out of their cases. Elaine’s stress level rose, and she semi-jokingly suggested to Ian that perhaps they should give Anastasia a dose of the sedative now, rather than an hour before the flight as the doctor had said. Ian pointed out that if they did it would very likely wear off during the flight when it would be most needed. However, despite a stressful couple of hours and making do with coffee in their hotel room (Anastasia had a milkshake and fortified biscuits), they were down at reception with their luggage at 9.15 a.m. to check out and settle their bill, which was considerable because they’d used room service so much.

  Ten minutes later, to their delight, Danny strolled into the lobby and greeted them warmly. ‘The cab firm told me you were leaving. Hello, Anastasia.’ He smiled at her and repeated hello in thei
r own language. Anastasia eyed him cautiously, no doubt wondering how he fitted into everything that was going on. ‘You won’t remember me waiting outside the orphanage,’ he said, then said it again in their language. Anastasia tried to hold his hand and Danny laughed, but Elaine thought it slightly odd that she would want to hold the hand of a stranger.

  Danny picked up two of their suitcases and Ian took the third, and a little nostalgically they left the hotel, which had been their home for some weeks. Outside, Danny stowed their cases in the boot while Ian helped Anastasia into the rear seat, where Elaine joined her with her hand luggage. Ian got into the front passenger seat. Starting the engine, Danny immediately struck up conversation, his usual bright and chatty self. He asked them if everything had gone to plan, how they’d passed the time, what the weather was like in the UK, if it snowed at Christmas – just over three weeks away – and then told them about his own family.

  Elaine saw Anastasia watching him intently and felt this was an opportunity too good to miss. So when he asked, ‘How is your daughter?’ and Ian replied, ‘Good,’ Elaine seized the moment.

  ‘Danny,’ she said, leaning slightly forward so she could see him round his seat. ‘We’re not always sure what Anastasia needs or is feeling because we don’t speak her language. Could you ask her some questions for me, please?’

  ‘Yes, sure,’ he said amicably, and glanced at Anastasia in the rear-view mirror as he drove.

  ‘Please ask her if she has everything she needs,’ Elaine said.

  Danny translated and Elaine saw the look of slight surprise on Anastasia’s face that Danny was talking to her. She said just a couple of words in reply.

  ‘She has what she needs,’ Danny said.

  ‘Can you ask her if she understands we are her mummy and daddy? If not, please explain about going to court and the adoption. I don’t know how much she has been told or understands.’

  Danny straightened in his seat a little and, concentrating on the road ahead, began talking to Anastasia, occasionally glancing at her in the mirror. Anastasia sat motionless, staring at him, but nothing could be read in her expression. Ian turned in his seat to glance at her. Danny stopped talking and Anastasia looked at her and Ian and then said a few words in her own language.

 

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