2 nights/3 days in hospital, suspected meningitis (do you know how scary it is when they start bandying that word around??), a chronic migraine, an IV, morphine, cocodemol, codeine, paracetemol, no sleep and some very, very odd people.
Lord above.
Thankfully, above all else, The Other One is ok; the midwives came down from the maternity ward and dopplered in. Heart rate found, thank GOD.
Monday morning, felt shit, but nothing worse than I had been since last week. I realised something was up when Monday night came, I had no idea what time/day it was and I screamed in pain every time the light was turned on, I focus on anything or speak without wanting to throw up. Hoorahh!! Good times, oh yes.
Sometime in the night (maybe around 10:30pm?) Dave finally called NHS direct who sent round paramedics, who called an ambulance, who took me to hospital. My faaaaaaaavourite place, hospital (at this point I kept thinking about the
Big Shiny Red Button). They pumped me full of all kinds of drugs, none of which worked. The best moment?
(Cos there always is one)
When Nurse #1 tried to feed me two Cocodemol - tablets the size and shape of UFOs - and I threw them up before I even had a chance to sit back. She watched me spew, then asked if I'd thrown up the tablets. Then 25 minutes later, asked D if he could check the plastic bag of spuke to find the tablets. I remember half laughing behind blinding pain.
I don't remember much of Monday night in A&E*; I vaguely remember losing feeling in my hands and feet to morphine (that was AWESOME, I'd do that again), and listening to some woman in the next cubicle spuke. Again. And then again. And then some more. And then for the next 6 hours. I think, I
think, she may have been ill.
So I didn't sleep Monday night, and D eventually got kicked out 2:30 am.
I remember NOTHING from Tuesday (yesterday), apart from someone constantly asking me my date of birth, and someone else asking about rashes and meningitis. I know I repeatedly asked whether all of the drugs they were forcing down me were actually safe for the baby, and moaned in disbelief when one nurse/doctor/medically incompetant person said they weren't sure and "Would I like her to check first?"
(No, you stupid whore, just give me the motherpuppy drugs which don't even frigging work anyway, and poison both myself and my unborn child. Kthnxbai.)
I do, however, remember Tuesday night. I remember it because I was quietly moaning to try to get to sleep, but couldn't because some guy in the corner kept shouting for the nurses, saying he wanted to "pass water". And every time the nurses told him, "you have a tube in your bladder, you don't have to get up"
Annoying man: "So I don't have to get up?"
Nurse #24,735: "No, because you've got a tube in your bladder."
AM: "So I can pass water?"
Nurse #68,942: "Yes, just relax and stop shouting because there are other people trying to sleep."
AM: "Ok I'm sorry, I'm very sorry."
(30 seconds silence)
...
AM: "Nurse! NURSE!! NURRRRRRSE! IS ANYONE THERE?? CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?"
Repeat as above. For 3 hours.
Seriously,
Big Red Button.
But I'm home now as of this afternoon (and not a moment too soon) to see my beautiful boy who I cannot believe how much I missed. I kept hoping one of the grandparents might just bring him along even though I knew he wasn't allowed.
When I got home he grinned, launched himself at me then grabbed my head and gummed my face. Then while changing him tonight he refused to be put down on his changing table, preferring to cling round my neck and hang on with his legs. Have you ever tried to change a child while they adhere themselves to your torso? It's just the best.
Not sure how I feel about the 4 teeth that have made an appearance at the top, though. Two broken the gum, two bulging the gum. My baby is growing up.
*D has renamed "Accident & Emergency" to "Accident & Eventually"
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