Mama bears trip to the hospital

Monday started off well. I went for a walk with the kids, had a look at some flowers, nipped in Asda and bought far too many 'bargains' that I probably don't need. Earlier in the week I had been a bit ill but was feeling on the mend, so it was nice to be out with the boys.

 Later that day my mum had to phone an ambulance for me, I won't go into too much detail all you need to know is I was in extreme pain and I clearly wasn't on the mend. A few years ago my main feeling at this point would of been fear that I was having to go in an ambulance and that there was something wrong with me, however now I have children my feelings have changed. While I lay on the sofa writhing in pain, sweating and crying my only feeling was guilt. Guilt, that my beautiful Mr S and Mr B were having to see their mummy like this, that they were going to see paramedics take their mummy away. Mr S is old enough to understand that something is wrong and that mama is being taken away in a chair, but not old enough to explain why.

 

  Once I was in a&e waiting for results and letting my pain relief take hold I had a lot of time to think. It's amazing how once you have produced little people your thought process changes completely. Pre babies I would have been frightened that I was all alone in the hospital as there was no one to come with me and that there was talk of a very scary lumbar puncture, post babies I was wracked with worry that I hadn't had time to prepare a nappy bag for my mum due to the sudden onset of pain. While the doctor was telling me what they were going to poke and prod next, I was honestly lay there thinking if my mum would be able to find wipes and dummy's.

 Obviously all my worries were unnecessary as super gran to the rescue, handled both of them like a pro, wipes or no wipes. No matter how many times she messages me to tell me the kids are fine and sends pics of them eating and playing I still worry. Worry that my mum shouldn't have to be looking after 2 under 2 for such a long period of time, (hubby is working and they have kept me in), to the point that I find myself bargaining with the nurse for an early release, (I'm aware I'm not in prison, however with barred windows that don't open and a woman who swears more than me in the next bed, I may as well be). So many nurses, doctors and everyone else in uniform asked if I had children, to which my answer was clearly, "yes I have two under two", every healthcare professional gave me the same answer, "well, I can see why your here putting up with that then". No offence intended but I can see why those people went into healthcare and not stand up!

In fact, I told hubby to stay at home with the kids instead of visiting me, that was partly because I wanted my mum too have a break from my monkeys and partly because when he does visit he is a pain in the butt. He literally becomes a child, trying to pull a Moonie at me before the doc comes back in, making glasses out of pill cups. I asked him why he acts this way as he was the same when I was in labour. “I’m trying to distract you from feeling ill”, trust me hubby seeing your butt crack isn’t helping me feel un-ill.

Luckily I'm home now and everything is slowly getting back to normal, although I feel like I've gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. The boys are none the wiser to my pain, in their eyes I have just been to the shop. In the past I probably would have spent the next few days in bed feeling sorry for myself and enjoying the pain relief. Times have changed. I am having to grit my teeth and smile through the pain while entertaining my boys, I have no other choice, but I wouldn't have it any other way, (well maybe hubby here but the penny's won't earn themselves). In fact, the nurse gave me some sick bowels for my journey home, which thankfully I didn't need to make use of, so that was our morning sorted, a nice sit down activity where mama bear could semi rest, sick bowel hats.

Good day to you x

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Lets go to the Beach, Beach.

And so ends another week where we still live with my mum while we save to get on the property ladder, I’m still overweight (although I have lost 10lb on my health kick so far) and I’m still amazed by the fact that in the time it took me to go for a wee on Thursday morning, Mr S found a bag of Wotsits, opened them and began munching.

We have been taking things easy this week as my husband has been quite ill and in hospital a couple of times. Were still unsure what exactly is wrong with him but he has been referred to all the right people and been given what seems to be magic medicine, as he is doing loads better already. After all the people he has seen this week and help he has received, I really do believe the name NHS describes the people who work within, NICE, HELPFUL, SUPERHEROS!!! There was a long wait but that’s ok as part of me really enjoys sitting in waiting rooms. I play a little game in my head where I try and guess why everyone is there. In the a&e waiting room most people were there because alcohol wasn’t their friend.

 There was the man who was there because he had had too much to drink and clearly just needed somewhere to lie down, he later stood up and shouted “you’re only keeping me waiting so I sober up and you can get some sense out of me, well I won’t be sleeping until someone pulls their finger out and sees me”. He then fell asleep again.

Then there was a woman who looked like she had done some sort of damage to her arm due to alcohol. She had hair like a nest, lipstick was smeared up her cheek and she had a false eyelash stuck to her boob, (that or a spider had set up camp on mount Titmus). As I was at the vending machine I heard her on the phone saying, “don’t worry about me, I saw some prosecco left in the bin and it tipped up on me, I’m having an x-ray soon”.

So with the Hubby feeling a bit better this weekend we ventured to Lytham St Anne’s and had a day on the beach. We took a little picnic, although with how much sand Mr B and Mr S ate they weren’t hungry by the time we opened it. As it was Friday and most people were stuck in work and school, we had practically the whole beach to ourselves, so the obvious happened. When someone else did arrive, (a woman who stripped down to bra and knickers), she set up just over a metre away from us. I mean come on underwear lady, the beach is huge, do you really need to interfere in our little beach bubble. Neither my children, nor my husband need to see your cerise bra and toned tummy while I’m over here in my comfy t-shirt eating crisp. Some women are just such bitches. No but in all seriousness why do people do that, like when you’re the first in the cinema. You sit down, get comfy, another couple arrive and sit in the seats right next to you, when no other seat is taken. It’s not ok, it’s not good manners and furthermore it makes you a douche.

Apart from the underwear lady with no sense of personal space, we had an amazing day. It was Mr B’s first time on the beach and he loved every minute of it. He loved the feel of the sand and spent hours picking fistfuls up and sieving it through his chubby fingers. All the fresh air wore him out and he looked so cute napping in the sun shelter in his nappy and sunhat. Mr S has been before but was very young and couldn’t walk. So this time he spent the whole day running round and digging like a maniac. When it was time to leave we packed up and walked back to the car where he stood, waving at the sand dunes, shouting “bye bye bitch”, I think he meant beach, but I don’t know he might have been talking to underwear lady.

Good day to you x

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