I had one of those nights last night somewhere between sleep, outrageous dreams and three alarms clocks going off in staggered succession. This morning before I did the dance of the dawn chorus, remembered too late, yet again, that I had forgotten to do Dr BDP's pulses and temperatures and blood pressures. Must try harder etc.
My surprisingly athletic sprint to the bathroom, having been jet propelled out of bed by an over full bladder - eclipsed the whole necessary process. I had also had an extra distraction.. the panther cat has been punishing me for being away from the house. She either hides on the stairs and pats my head as I pass through the hall, or hides with her fangs out.. peering around corners of large furniture, ready to bat my ankles or fly over my head if I sit on anything comfortable. If I dare to leave the house over night, she misses her violent newspaper shredding games and catty smacked bottom and it induces a catty huff. So having been away for four days, has sent her into terrible mischief making. I must load up the films soon, evidence of all this.
This morning her anger with me, finally reached it's crescendo.. I have been back in residence here since Monday! I awoke in the half light aware that something was gripping my legs from the knees down. It was of course her. She had straddled my legs and as if being a lion bringing down an antelope. Paws and whole body wrapped round them with her teeth nibbling my big toes.. I must had had some duvet turbulence in the night and become unwrapped..this was the reason I forgot the things I should have done, involving blood pressure machines and thermometers. The other cat, the tiger, has taken up residence in my son's bedroom, until he is a little better there she will stay, nurse pussance etc.
Nice to be home again - after a 3 night emergency stay in hospital with my young son, with raging migraines and a nasty dose of cellulitis. The hospital were great..and my man optimistically felt I might have a relaxing break in there. He has no concept of it being compared to sleeping on a motorway roundabout, such is the volume of traffic day and also night, the coming and goings usually at full speed.
Due to the speed of the emergency which developed, I did not have time to pack my usual long haul sized suitcase, containing, interesting blankets, a cafetiere, packets of fresh coffee, tv headphones etc etc.
The first night in there became a reconnaissance mission, as I scouted the top of laundry cupboards looking for supplies of towels and elusive blanket supplies. Call me old fashioned but I like the weight of several blankets during the night, whether the ward is hot or not, and to be handed something resembling a large dishcloth and told there were no more was not ok with me. The ward next door had hundreds and I availed myself of them at the dead of night. The night staff are a softer touch, with matron nicely tucked up in bed at home.
Prior to this I had started to fantasize about the baby blankets that are seen UK wide on any children's facility. They are knitted by armies of old ladies out of a material which is a cross between bri nylon and barbed wire and usually in acid lemon yellow, vivid sea sick green, plastic pink or electric baby blue,. Having spied a stapler on the nurses desk.. a little project of joining these blankets together for my own personal use had become a possibility, if I had not secured fresh supplies.
The staff were great and were amused at how squeamish I was about various goings on, I explained that I was rather interested in getting to the bottom of things, but if there was a medical procedure on the television, best to watch it in black and white! Something I have always done!
I spent most of the time keeping youngsters spirits up, and talking to the other teens and mums on the ward - a nice bunch, the time was peppered with visits from my husband regaling me with stories of his exploits, including meetings all day long about meetings to be had about even more meetings, and having conducted most of them with his flies undone, oblivious to why everybody was staring at him. Also explaining to my son, how Dad could always be relied on to rescue him from dire emergencies. Just before yet more blood tests, I re told the dad stuck in a pipe story, which the nurses particularly enjoyed.
In our distant past.. when my youngest would have been about 16 months, we made a stop for a coffee at some fast food outlet on the way to the Midlands, involving one of those play centres with tunnels, balls and slides. No over 12's etc. Being in a rush to leave... the baby would not come out.. all we could hear was blither blather, shriek, gibble, gabble etc. He got himself lodged deep inside a large system of tiny passages designed for children.. he would NOT come out, he was quite happy to sit in tiny plastic tunnel high up above us....My husband had to go in and slither along miles of tunnels...to find him... but the grand finale was reached with gaggle of tired mothers having tea and chips...next to the exit slide and tunnel.. first a shrieking jet propelled baby appeared followed by a man squeezing himself out of tiny drainpipe of a space complete with hat on, to land amongst them.. it is an image I have remembered every week for the last twelve and a half years. The blood tests did not hurt at all with this story, being told.
I knew my son was well enough to come out, once he had bypassed the block on the hospital internet system, split the headphones so we could both watch telly, and also bypass the tv system and made it play on his handheld device.
We are now at home, doing school work, and I have climbed up to 3 mg on LDN, I had a lot more energy yesterday and unfortunately felt an urge to spring clean two frightful cupboards and also deep clean the kitchen.
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