In the morning went back to the hosiptal and saw the results of the surgery. A hole had been cut into her head and a line run through to the stomach of my chubby little girl. A line was coming out and there was clear fluid coming out, running into a bag, the watery substance was the 'water of the brain'. With out exaggerating there was at least 2 mugs fulls of 'water'  in a bag, it was this that was sitting, squashing her brain, and more was still trickling out.

The day past, doctors, surgeons, nurses came and went. If they came in as a group I got worried, it was like good cop, bad cop, who would tell us what news. I tried to looking for hope, it was like watching a TV program, it was TV program, my smiley, chubby girl was no longer, she was just laying there passive, barely moving, spaced out, like a little doll. Machines were beeping, time just past, slowly.

We were told that Adi would need another MRI scan to check what the 'mass' was, when and what day this happened I can't remember, I know it was a 3 weeks ago. I also know that I had to cancel our summer holiday, arrange things for my very active, cheeky son to do over the summer.

I had discussed with my long suffering wife what to tell friends, thank goodness for mobile phones and Facebook. At 9.45 pm the evening after the MRI scan, I posted on Facebook what had happened, within minutes I received a phone call, by 6.30 am the following morning  there were over 25 posts sending messages, my wife was overwhelmed with text messages. By the evening food runs had been arranged (our friends would ensure that we would not starve). Some very kind friends helped pick up the cheeky chappy, they fed and watered him for several days.

I find this next bit funny, heartening and just, just, well actually I am lost for words. The word had got around that a my little girl was ill, suddenly I was told that prayers were being said by Nuns, Priest, Rabbis, Imams and Monks all over the world for my little girl, from London to Jerusalem to Bangkok and Melbourne. People of all religions finally seemed to agree on one point, that they should pray for a little girl that they did not know.  A little girl who was laying, fighting for her life bed, with fluid steadily dripping out of her small soft head, with a tumor and cancer growing.

Several days later it was the day of the BIG operation, well not the big operation but the operation to remove the 'mass'