When I was in junior school we were always asked to write what we wanted to be when we grew up. For a couple of years I wrote that I wanted to be a trapeze artiste. I'm sure Burt Lancaster had a lot to do with it as my mum used to love watching films with him in. Trapeze and the Crimson Pirate were both much loved films!
I remember always dreaming of being in the circus. I had a gold leotard that sparkled and wore gold tights. I would climb up a rope to the trapeze platform and the safety net would drop. I would start to swing and then fly through the air to be caught by my ankles by a man on another trapeze. He would swing me back so I would catch mine and continue the routine. I would finish by doing a triple somersault in the air and catching the trapeze before returning to the platform. The crowd would clap and cheer.
That was my childhood dream. It was shattered with the realisation that I was petrified of heights.I then decided I would be a zoo keeper or a marine biologist. I applied for a job at London zoo after doing A levels but was told I was over qualified so I did a degree in marine biology so I could have at least one dream come true.
I couldn't get the circus out of my system though. I met Jonathan the Jester at our local village fair and found myself booking him for circus workshops at school. It wasn't so the kids could learn circus skills but so I could. What fun I had watching and joining in. Every event I found Jonathan at I would gather up children to take part just so I could have a go.
For years I put a unicycle on my Christmas list but never got one. Then one day my husband saw one in the local bicycle shop. I rushed down to buy it. I've tried to master it but just end up splattered on the floor or covered in bruises where the pedals hit. One day I will unicycle up the street without the aid of a wall or garden hedge to support myself.
When I turned 40 I decided I had grown up. A madness hit me and I decided it was time to live my dream and learn the trapeze. I looked online and found I could do a circus workshop with flying trapeze. In my excitement I decided to practice on my daughter's four poster bed. The bending of the bar and creaking of the bed struts put a sudden stop to that! Instead I asked my sisters if the workshop could be my birthday present. They agreed and all I had to do was pick a date.
Life took over and got in the way and a year went by with the circus being at the back of my mind. Then a couple of weeks ago I visited the circus website. To my delight they had added unicycling to the list of skills taught and I also noticed they were on twitter as @circusspace It was the boost I needed. I chose the date, told my sisters and told Circus space.
I am now booked on to a circus skills course in October. I will learn how to ride my unicycle but more importantly I will be able to fly on the trapeze. I'm not stupid. I know 40, fat and frumpy is never going to look good in a gold leotard and I know in the short time I am there there will be no triple somersaults and being caught by the ankles. It doesn't matter. I will be able to say I have been on the flying trapeze. I can tick that box. All that will be left will be the zoo keeper dream!
I am really looking forward to joining the circus. I don't care that I'm scared of heights. I don't care that I'm not the most graceful person ever. I don't care that I fall over standing still and have no sense of balance. I'm joining the circus!
Do you know what scares me most? The thing I am worrying about most is entering the building! I can already feel the panic at having to go somewhere new and not know where I'm going. I'm scared about having to knock at the door. It's very silly but it fills me with dread. I'm glad I have started talking to Circus space on twitter as I won't worry about not knowing them but the thought of having to find my way in is giving me butterflies!
It's a fear I will overcome just so I can fly on that trapeze!
Thursday, 26 August 2010
Friday, 23 April 2010
Embarrassing Moments
Well I'm about to drop myself in it again! Today @mediocre_mum suggested I took a look at a post by Urbanvox and add my embarrassing moment.
Well I have so many to choose from it's difficult. Most people, thanks to @beachhut81 know about the Easter that I went to church with my skirt on inside out. My delightful son waited until it was all quiet and then asked me, very loudly if I knew. I spent the rest of the service trying to pull my top over the label at the back trying to disguise the fact.
Then of course there was the time I was breast feeding my first child. I was in my own home and the only person there was my mother in law. Normally I would leave the room and go discreetly feed my child but my mother in law said not to worry. As I released myself from my top my boob took on a mind of it's own and squirted milk across the room and over my mother in law. Now that was embarrassing.
It was more embarrassing as it had happened a few months after another incident that my mother in law was present at. I was pregnant at the time and out shopping with my mother in law. We were returning to the car park laden with shopping. The car was parked on the roof so we went up by lift. As I stepped out the lift there was a ping and within seconds my knickers were around my ankles. Now as I was pregnant it wasn't exactly easy to see what had happened but I knew by the sudden lack of ability to walk that something was wrong. My mother in law looked and almost wet herself laughing. I took a step forward , gave a flick of my foot and watched my knickers fly threw the air. They landed neatly on my shopping and I then ran to the car.
This story may have stayed between you me and the gate post or at least my mother in law and myself but she found it so funny that she told everybody when we got home.
There, that's 3 cringe worthy moments in a lifetime full of minor mishaps. I hope it has amused you slightly.
Sunday, 18 April 2010
Bad Parenting Club
I have been asked by @mediocre_mum to join the bad parenting club She has written about some incidents and thought I might have a few to share! I am not a bad parent. I am just a little absent minded and a little accident prone!
It wasn't my fault that a few weeks ago I was crossing a busy road and dropped my youngest off the back of my bicycle in the middle of the road. I didn't mean to shut my middle child's hand in the car door either a few years ago. These things just happen!
I guess the first 'bad parenting' moment was when I forgot I had a child! I took my new baby to the shop round the corner with me. She was fast asleep in the pushchair but the pushchair didn't fit easily up the narrow aisles of the shop as they had had a delivery. The very nice lady at the check out suggested I leave the pushchair there whilst I got my shopping. I parked the pushchair and darted round the shop with my basket.
It was when I started walking home with bags of shopping I thought to myself it would be easier to hang the bags on the pushchair. Pushchair! Whoops. That would be the pushchair with my baby still parked by the check out in the shop! Lady at the counter was laughing when I walked back in. I had never been out of sight of the shop and she had been ready to call me back. She was just seeing when I would remember!!!
The second time I 'lost' a child was with my third. I was again a new mum and my husband was away. I had 3 children to deal with and was really tired. My son was asleep so I sat on sofa and fell asleep. When I woke up I went to check on the baby but he wasn't in the pushchair where I thought I had left him. I checked upstairs in the Moses basket but he wasn't there either. In a panic I searched the house for anywhere I may have left a baby!
He was nowhere in sight. I checked my doors and windows but they were all locked. I had done the school run and I had definitely bought him home! How on earth can you misplace a baby in your sleep. I was just on the point of calling a neighbour to help me when I heard a noise. The baby was definitely in the house! The noise was coming from the pushchair, the first place I had looked.
It turned out I had put the small child in the pushchair but not strapped him in. He was too small to move but he had slid down inside the cosy toes! I found the baby 'stood up' at the bottom of the cosy toes.Such a relief. ( You would have thought after that I would always strap children in but there have been several incidents of pushchair ejector seats going down kerbs!!!!)
There has only been 1 hospital trip caused by my 'bad parenting and 1 caused by my husband! The one by my husband was partially my fault. I caused the smoke detector to go off and my husband stepped backwards to blow at it. At the same time my toddling first child went to join in the smoke detector game. There was a collision and husband trod on child's leg. She lay there screaming unable to stand up. Off to hospital we went where small child saw a box of toys and ran across the room to them. A miraculous recovery!
My incident was with my son. I was a Pampered chef consultant at the time and had a huge crate containing my kit. I kept this out of reach of the kids, on top of the fridge. One evening I went to get the box down and didn't see small child behind. I swung round and hit the child in the eye. Being a bad parent I rubbed it better and left. The next day his eye was completely swollen. I got an emergency appointment at Dr's where I confessed to hitting him with the box. The doctor sent us straight to eye casualty but told me it wasn't my fault. He did actually mean that as it turned out son had a very rare eye infection and it was caught just in time to save his sight!The box injury was just a coincidence!
I suppose I was a bad parent when my middle child fell off a chair trying to dust the ceiling. She said her arm hurt but I made her eat her dinner with a knife and fork. She kept moaning so I agreed that if my Ann Summers delivery was postponed I would take her to hospital. It was and I did. Turned out she had broken her arm! ( I don't count that as a hospital trip caused by bad parenting as the accident wasn't my fault but the neglect may have been!!!!)
There have been several accidents that I had nothing to do with. My oldest fell down the stairs carrying my baby son and ran out the house screaming she had killed the baby. My youngest child, s a tiny baby had a dining room chair dropped on her head. These weren't my fault but maybe if I had been paying more attention they wouldn't have happened!
Accidents and minor mishaps are part of parenting. I don't think my family have suffered for it and I don't think I'm really a bad parent!
It wasn't my fault that a few weeks ago I was crossing a busy road and dropped my youngest off the back of my bicycle in the middle of the road. I didn't mean to shut my middle child's hand in the car door either a few years ago. These things just happen!
I guess the first 'bad parenting' moment was when I forgot I had a child! I took my new baby to the shop round the corner with me. She was fast asleep in the pushchair but the pushchair didn't fit easily up the narrow aisles of the shop as they had had a delivery. The very nice lady at the check out suggested I leave the pushchair there whilst I got my shopping. I parked the pushchair and darted round the shop with my basket.
It was when I started walking home with bags of shopping I thought to myself it would be easier to hang the bags on the pushchair. Pushchair! Whoops. That would be the pushchair with my baby still parked by the check out in the shop! Lady at the counter was laughing when I walked back in. I had never been out of sight of the shop and she had been ready to call me back. She was just seeing when I would remember!!!
The second time I 'lost' a child was with my third. I was again a new mum and my husband was away. I had 3 children to deal with and was really tired. My son was asleep so I sat on sofa and fell asleep. When I woke up I went to check on the baby but he wasn't in the pushchair where I thought I had left him. I checked upstairs in the Moses basket but he wasn't there either. In a panic I searched the house for anywhere I may have left a baby!
He was nowhere in sight. I checked my doors and windows but they were all locked. I had done the school run and I had definitely bought him home! How on earth can you misplace a baby in your sleep. I was just on the point of calling a neighbour to help me when I heard a noise. The baby was definitely in the house! The noise was coming from the pushchair, the first place I had looked.
It turned out I had put the small child in the pushchair but not strapped him in. He was too small to move but he had slid down inside the cosy toes! I found the baby 'stood up' at the bottom of the cosy toes.Such a relief. ( You would have thought after that I would always strap children in but there have been several incidents of pushchair ejector seats going down kerbs!!!!)
There has only been 1 hospital trip caused by my 'bad parenting and 1 caused by my husband! The one by my husband was partially my fault. I caused the smoke detector to go off and my husband stepped backwards to blow at it. At the same time my toddling first child went to join in the smoke detector game. There was a collision and husband trod on child's leg. She lay there screaming unable to stand up. Off to hospital we went where small child saw a box of toys and ran across the room to them. A miraculous recovery!
My incident was with my son. I was a Pampered chef consultant at the time and had a huge crate containing my kit. I kept this out of reach of the kids, on top of the fridge. One evening I went to get the box down and didn't see small child behind. I swung round and hit the child in the eye. Being a bad parent I rubbed it better and left. The next day his eye was completely swollen. I got an emergency appointment at Dr's where I confessed to hitting him with the box. The doctor sent us straight to eye casualty but told me it wasn't my fault. He did actually mean that as it turned out son had a very rare eye infection and it was caught just in time to save his sight!The box injury was just a coincidence!
I suppose I was a bad parent when my middle child fell off a chair trying to dust the ceiling. She said her arm hurt but I made her eat her dinner with a knife and fork. She kept moaning so I agreed that if my Ann Summers delivery was postponed I would take her to hospital. It was and I did. Turned out she had broken her arm! ( I don't count that as a hospital trip caused by bad parenting as the accident wasn't my fault but the neglect may have been!!!!)
There have been several accidents that I had nothing to do with. My oldest fell down the stairs carrying my baby son and ran out the house screaming she had killed the baby. My youngest child, s a tiny baby had a dining room chair dropped on her head. These weren't my fault but maybe if I had been paying more attention they wouldn't have happened!
Accidents and minor mishaps are part of parenting. I don't think my family have suffered for it and I don't think I'm really a bad parent!
Friday, 16 April 2010
Something Special for My Birthday
Today is my birthday and I have done something special. Before I tell you what I need to tell you about my friends CaptainTom3 and MrsTom3. They are a married couple that I follow on twitter.
A few months ago I discovered I had a new follower on twitter. She had only sent 1 tweet and only followed one other person, her husband. Intrigued as to why she had started following me I struck up conversations with @mrstom3 and @captaintom3. It turned out that their son was suffering renal failure and needed a kidney transplant. It was @mrstom3 who was going to give her kidney to her son. She had joined twitter for something to do whilst sat at hospital with her son and for when she had the operation herself for some light relief. My son had been ill in the past and in hospital so I knew how boring it could be just sitting around so I was only too happy to drum up some more twitter followers and get a special support group going.
I'm not sure they knew that twitter could offer a great support service but I think they have found that it does. Even Duncan Bannatyne has taken the trouble to tweet and show an interest in @mrstom3 and the roller coaster ride she is on.
The transplant took place on 9th March and we have all followed the progress being made. It truly is a roller coaster with good news followed by bad news followed by good news followed by bad. This week it was discovered that the glandular fever virus had been in the donated kidney and so more worry for the family.
Before meeting the Toms online I hadn't really given much thought to transplants. My family are healthy and so it never crossed my mind. I know that if any of my family were taken ill in this way and I could help by being a living donor I would. I know if they were really ill and needed an organ that I couldn't donate I would be frantic with worry and wish for an organ to become available.
That set me thinking and so today, as a birthday present, I did something I should have done a long time ago. I registered as an organ donor. I hope that I die peacefully in my sleep of old age but if something dreadful should happen to me then I hope that something good can come of it. I hope that a frantic family can be helped. I've put it off for years because I've never been pushed into thinking about it. Captaintom3 wrote a blog about it which put it back in my mind.
If you'd like to give me a present for my birthday then register as an organ donor here .If you are all ready on the list then why not make a donation to kidney research via @mrstom3 at her just giving site
A few months ago I discovered I had a new follower on twitter. She had only sent 1 tweet and only followed one other person, her husband. Intrigued as to why she had started following me I struck up conversations with @mrstom3 and @captaintom3. It turned out that their son was suffering renal failure and needed a kidney transplant. It was @mrstom3 who was going to give her kidney to her son. She had joined twitter for something to do whilst sat at hospital with her son and for when she had the operation herself for some light relief. My son had been ill in the past and in hospital so I knew how boring it could be just sitting around so I was only too happy to drum up some more twitter followers and get a special support group going.
I'm not sure they knew that twitter could offer a great support service but I think they have found that it does. Even Duncan Bannatyne has taken the trouble to tweet and show an interest in @mrstom3 and the roller coaster ride she is on.
The transplant took place on 9th March and we have all followed the progress being made. It truly is a roller coaster with good news followed by bad news followed by good news followed by bad. This week it was discovered that the glandular fever virus had been in the donated kidney and so more worry for the family.
Before meeting the Toms online I hadn't really given much thought to transplants. My family are healthy and so it never crossed my mind. I know that if any of my family were taken ill in this way and I could help by being a living donor I would. I know if they were really ill and needed an organ that I couldn't donate I would be frantic with worry and wish for an organ to become available.
That set me thinking and so today, as a birthday present, I did something I should have done a long time ago. I registered as an organ donor. I hope that I die peacefully in my sleep of old age but if something dreadful should happen to me then I hope that something good can come of it. I hope that a frantic family can be helped. I've put it off for years because I've never been pushed into thinking about it. Captaintom3 wrote a blog about it which put it back in my mind.
If you'd like to give me a present for my birthday then register as an organ donor here .If you are all ready on the list then why not make a donation to kidney research via @mrstom3 at her just giving site
Wednesday, 24 March 2010
The Bedtime Routine
It's no good. It doesn't matter how many times I tell people ,they still get the bedtime routine wrong!
To signal I wanted my sister to be quiet I would say goodnight. She would then either say goodnight or ask another question. I would reply with goodnight being the last word. This would continue. Every time she said goodnight I would reply goodnight until she would finally be quiet and sleep.
Everybody I have ever shared a room with knows I have to have the last goodnight but it must follow a goodnight. I do not stop until I have had a reply.
THE HISTORY OF THE BEDTIME ROUTINE
Since my sister was born in 1972 I have shared a bedroom with somebody. At first it was my older sister, then my younger sister and finally my husband. The bedtime routine goes back to my childhood. I have always been the last to say goodnight but also the first.To signal I wanted my sister to be quiet I would say goodnight. She would then either say goodnight or ask another question. I would reply with goodnight being the last word. This would continue. Every time she said goodnight I would reply goodnight until she would finally be quiet and sleep.
Everybody I have ever shared a room with knows I have to have the last goodnight but it must follow a goodnight. I do not stop until I have had a reply.
TWITTER GOODNIGHT
I thought this was just in real life however I have discovered I am the same on twitter. I have to say 'goodnight' to indicate I am leaving but can't leave until I have had a 'goodnight' in reply. To this I then answer 'goodnight'. Any conversation entered into has to have a goodnight at the end of a sentence with my goodnight being the last.
RECENTLY SAYING GOODNIGHT HAS TAKEN A GOOD HALF HOUR!
So please, if you follow me on twitter, I say goodnight, you reply goodnight and then I say goodnight.
THANK YOU!
My First Baby
Giving birth has been a different experience with all four of my children. The first time took me by surprise. I know that sounds daft as I knew I was pregnant but my baby decided to come 3 weeks early.
I had written a few questions down for my midwife ready to ask her at my antenatal appointment a few days later but baby couldn't wait that long. It was 5am when I woke up and thought I had wet the bed. It took a few minutes to work out that that wasn't the case and my waters had broken. I woke my husband who went and phoned the hospital. They said not to bother coming in until I started having contractions so I changed sheets and went back to bed.
9am came and off we went to ASDA. I know most people would have gone to hospital but I still had some bits to get as, like I said, my baby had caught me by surprise. Walking round the shop was a little awkward - not because I was in labour and could feel contractions but because my waters had broken and every so often I could feel a dribble!
We got the shopping, went home, packed my hospital bag and phoned again. I was advised to take a bath and see if that helped. Still couldn't feel anything. Later that evening we phoned and went to hospital. I was told off for not coming in sooner although still nothing was happening. We saw a nice midwife who found my list of questions. The first one was what should I do when I go into labour. The midwife laughed as all my questions were irrelevant apart from one.
In my notes it mentioned something about the shape of my pelvis with question marks. My mum had had all 3 of her children by c section because her child bearing hips were not designed to bear children! I was worried that this was the same for me. The midwife shrugged and said I wasn't to worry.
I was put on a ward and told to wait and my husband was sent home. Well I waited and waited.Contractions came but I was told I still had to wait. Eventually somebody came and got me and took me to the delivery room. They called my husband back then too.
That's when the pain started. My baby was back to back with me and I was getting pain down my spine.I was told to breathe like they had taught me in classes. It was then I pointed out that I hadn't been to any classes. The gas was good but not really doing the trick so they decided to give me pethidine. I don't remember a lot after that.
What I do remember doesn't make a lot of sense. I was suddenly on a dive boat on the Solent with a blue hippo with pink spots as my dive buddy. I know this is highly unlikely but that's what I vividly remember!
I had a couple of doses of pethidine but after the second the baby really began to arrive. In fact as soon as she did she had to be whisked away to be given the antidote! Baby was fine and weighed in at 6lb 1/2oz. I could hold her in one hand and all the clothes I had swamped her.
The midwife in delivery was lovely but back on the ward wasn't so good. I got out of bed the next morning and collapsed. Nobody noticed! Came too and buzzed for help but was told to just get back in bed and stay there. This was my first born, I hadn't been to classes and I hadn't a clue what I was doing. The midwives just tutted.
Just after that there was a huge investigation with several midwives being sacked for bullying patients and other midwives. I decided I would never give birth in that hospital again. How wrong can you be!
I had written a few questions down for my midwife ready to ask her at my antenatal appointment a few days later but baby couldn't wait that long. It was 5am when I woke up and thought I had wet the bed. It took a few minutes to work out that that wasn't the case and my waters had broken. I woke my husband who went and phoned the hospital. They said not to bother coming in until I started having contractions so I changed sheets and went back to bed.
9am came and off we went to ASDA. I know most people would have gone to hospital but I still had some bits to get as, like I said, my baby had caught me by surprise. Walking round the shop was a little awkward - not because I was in labour and could feel contractions but because my waters had broken and every so often I could feel a dribble!
We got the shopping, went home, packed my hospital bag and phoned again. I was advised to take a bath and see if that helped. Still couldn't feel anything. Later that evening we phoned and went to hospital. I was told off for not coming in sooner although still nothing was happening. We saw a nice midwife who found my list of questions. The first one was what should I do when I go into labour. The midwife laughed as all my questions were irrelevant apart from one.
In my notes it mentioned something about the shape of my pelvis with question marks. My mum had had all 3 of her children by c section because her child bearing hips were not designed to bear children! I was worried that this was the same for me. The midwife shrugged and said I wasn't to worry.
I was put on a ward and told to wait and my husband was sent home. Well I waited and waited.Contractions came but I was told I still had to wait. Eventually somebody came and got me and took me to the delivery room. They called my husband back then too.
That's when the pain started. My baby was back to back with me and I was getting pain down my spine.I was told to breathe like they had taught me in classes. It was then I pointed out that I hadn't been to any classes. The gas was good but not really doing the trick so they decided to give me pethidine. I don't remember a lot after that.
What I do remember doesn't make a lot of sense. I was suddenly on a dive boat on the Solent with a blue hippo with pink spots as my dive buddy. I know this is highly unlikely but that's what I vividly remember!
I had a couple of doses of pethidine but after the second the baby really began to arrive. In fact as soon as she did she had to be whisked away to be given the antidote! Baby was fine and weighed in at 6lb 1/2oz. I could hold her in one hand and all the clothes I had swamped her.
The midwife in delivery was lovely but back on the ward wasn't so good. I got out of bed the next morning and collapsed. Nobody noticed! Came too and buzzed for help but was told to just get back in bed and stay there. This was my first born, I hadn't been to classes and I hadn't a clue what I was doing. The midwives just tutted.
Just after that there was a huge investigation with several midwives being sacked for bullying patients and other midwives. I decided I would never give birth in that hospital again. How wrong can you be!
Wednesday, 10 March 2010
Discovering pregnancy.
Recently I have been reading blogs by other people relating to their experiences of motherhood, from potty training to tantrums. I thought it would be nice to join in but as my children range in ages and my memory isn't the best, those early years aren't quite so vivid.
That too set me thinking. There have been so many little things that I have wanted to know about me as a child but my mum isn't around to ask. I thought maybe it would be nice to write down bits that I do remember from my own experiences in case I'm not around when my children want to know things.
With that in mind I'm going to start at the very beginning. Well maybe not the VERY beginning although I do know the exact date of conception of 2 of my children I don't think the details are necessary!!!! Instead I'll start with discovering I was pregnant.
Pregnancy and giving birth has been different with all 4 of my children . Discovering I was pregnant differed too. With my first child I was on a diving weekend in Plymouth when I realised I was pregnant. In fact I was sat on the sea bed at 30m and leading a dive. It was really quite peculiar. I went out on the dive boat as normal, rolled off the side and descended to the seabed. The minute I got there a little voice in my head started shouting 'get to the surface now, you're pregnant'. At first I thought it was nitrogen narcosis but I couldn't get the voices to stop. We were only at the bottom for about 10 minutes when I signalled for the dive to be aborted. I got back on the RIB and made out I had a problem with my equipment whilst I sat thinking about the voices.
I had a long time to think too as we were diving in 2 waves and so I was sat on the boat getting colder and colder. In the end I was pushed onto floor of the boat with people trying to keep me awake. Our dive boat left the group early to get me to shore as quickly as possible. I remember my friend Jay dragging me out the boat and walking me back up to where we were staying. I was so cold I had stopped shivering. He started to take me into the boys bathroom to which I objected but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He ran me a warm shower and I remember him helping me out of my semi dry suit. He then marched me back to my room and waited outside for me to get dressed before making me a cuppa. I should have been thinking how lucky that the most fanciable man on the trip had just had a shower with me when all I thought was that I was hearing voices. I didn't dare tell anybody.
I wasn't even late with my period then but I knew I was pregnant. Luckily for me the weather took a turn for the worse and all diving was cancelled for the weekend. I came home and at the first chance went out and bought a test kit. Sure enough the voices were right and I was pregnant.
It didn't just happen once though. The voices came back with my second child. It was just as odd but I wasn't in a particularly awkward situation. In fact I was just out walking with my toddler. I had wanted to get home quicker so had started skipping down the road with my little girl. No sooner had I started bouncing up and down and the voices came back. Somebody in my head shouted 'stop jumping up and down like that, you're pregnant!' I stopped, walked a bit and then started skipping again. The voice said it again. I walked past my house and to the chemist for a pregnancy test and sure enough it was positive.I was only a day or so late then.
You'll be pleased to know there were no voices with my third child. I knew I was pregnant when I was a few days late but there were no voices. When I suspected I was pregnant I tried skipping to see what would happen but nobody yelled at me. They did come back for my fourth child though.
With the fourth it was slightly different. We went on a family holiday for New Year to Cornwall. We went with friends and my friend made me try the sunbeds. That's not when the voices came though. It was towards the end of the holiday and we went shopping. I bought myself a tight fitting leather pencil skirt. Don't ask me why. My fashion sense has never been great. When we got back to the lodge I tried it on and my friend said she would laugh if I was pregnant. My husband turned round and said ' if she gets pregnant , we get divorced'. As soon as he said it that little voice in my head went ' I hope you know a good solicitor, you're pregnant!' Stupid voice. I wasn't pregnant at the start of that holiday but I knew the voice had never been wrong before.
Whoops, I said I wasn't going to mention when they were conceived and actually that makes 3 children I can trace back to conception. Guess I'll leave it there for now.
I'm sure I'm not the only one knew before they knew. I'd like to hear your stories. Please comment
That too set me thinking. There have been so many little things that I have wanted to know about me as a child but my mum isn't around to ask. I thought maybe it would be nice to write down bits that I do remember from my own experiences in case I'm not around when my children want to know things.
With that in mind I'm going to start at the very beginning. Well maybe not the VERY beginning although I do know the exact date of conception of 2 of my children I don't think the details are necessary!!!! Instead I'll start with discovering I was pregnant.
Pregnancy and giving birth has been different with all 4 of my children . Discovering I was pregnant differed too. With my first child I was on a diving weekend in Plymouth when I realised I was pregnant. In fact I was sat on the sea bed at 30m and leading a dive. It was really quite peculiar. I went out on the dive boat as normal, rolled off the side and descended to the seabed. The minute I got there a little voice in my head started shouting 'get to the surface now, you're pregnant'. At first I thought it was nitrogen narcosis but I couldn't get the voices to stop. We were only at the bottom for about 10 minutes when I signalled for the dive to be aborted. I got back on the RIB and made out I had a problem with my equipment whilst I sat thinking about the voices.
I had a long time to think too as we were diving in 2 waves and so I was sat on the boat getting colder and colder. In the end I was pushed onto floor of the boat with people trying to keep me awake. Our dive boat left the group early to get me to shore as quickly as possible. I remember my friend Jay dragging me out the boat and walking me back up to where we were staying. I was so cold I had stopped shivering. He started to take me into the boys bathroom to which I objected but he wouldn't take no for an answer. He ran me a warm shower and I remember him helping me out of my semi dry suit. He then marched me back to my room and waited outside for me to get dressed before making me a cuppa. I should have been thinking how lucky that the most fanciable man on the trip had just had a shower with me when all I thought was that I was hearing voices. I didn't dare tell anybody.
I wasn't even late with my period then but I knew I was pregnant. Luckily for me the weather took a turn for the worse and all diving was cancelled for the weekend. I came home and at the first chance went out and bought a test kit. Sure enough the voices were right and I was pregnant.
It didn't just happen once though. The voices came back with my second child. It was just as odd but I wasn't in a particularly awkward situation. In fact I was just out walking with my toddler. I had wanted to get home quicker so had started skipping down the road with my little girl. No sooner had I started bouncing up and down and the voices came back. Somebody in my head shouted 'stop jumping up and down like that, you're pregnant!' I stopped, walked a bit and then started skipping again. The voice said it again. I walked past my house and to the chemist for a pregnancy test and sure enough it was positive.I was only a day or so late then.
You'll be pleased to know there were no voices with my third child. I knew I was pregnant when I was a few days late but there were no voices. When I suspected I was pregnant I tried skipping to see what would happen but nobody yelled at me. They did come back for my fourth child though.
With the fourth it was slightly different. We went on a family holiday for New Year to Cornwall. We went with friends and my friend made me try the sunbeds. That's not when the voices came though. It was towards the end of the holiday and we went shopping. I bought myself a tight fitting leather pencil skirt. Don't ask me why. My fashion sense has never been great. When we got back to the lodge I tried it on and my friend said she would laugh if I was pregnant. My husband turned round and said ' if she gets pregnant , we get divorced'. As soon as he said it that little voice in my head went ' I hope you know a good solicitor, you're pregnant!' Stupid voice. I wasn't pregnant at the start of that holiday but I knew the voice had never been wrong before.
Whoops, I said I wasn't going to mention when they were conceived and actually that makes 3 children I can trace back to conception. Guess I'll leave it there for now.
I'm sure I'm not the only one knew before they knew. I'd like to hear your stories. Please comment
Saturday, 6 March 2010
My Sister and Meningitis
Meningitis is a word that strikes fear into the hearts of parents everywhere. It's one of those nasty diseases you hear about and pray you never encounter. My family did encounter it though but we were lucky.
The first time I had really heard of meningitis was when I was at my cousins house. I was listening to a conversation about my cousin's friend. She was in her late teens and her parents were away. She was spending the day with her boyfriend but had a headache so sent him home. He phoned her that evening but got no answer so went round to her house. He found her dead in her bed. It all happened very quickly. She had meningitis and she died. That was all the information I knew. She had a really bad headache and died.
Jump forward 6 months to December 1990. My sister was 18, working at Waitrose on a Saturday an had d just started going out with her boyfriend. They went to a pub after work and my sister made 1 drink last all evening. A few days later she had an eye infection. It didn't hurt but her bottom eyelid was swollen and her eye was dripping.
My mum was a firm believer that if you weren't being sick then you could go to school so off to school my sister went. ( Where we lived you did A levels at the school you did your GCEs at). My sister chased her friends around trying to drip her eye on them as it seemed like a good game to play. Her home economics teacher wasn't so amused by the dripping eye and sent Helen home from school. This annoyed my mum but my sister found amusing.
The following morning Helen woke with a headache. She and I shared a room and I was just at home reading. There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary. Helen had a headache and a temperature just like we all had had a million times before. Mum came to check on her and we all sat laughing as normal. Then mum did something really unusual. For only the second time in my life my mum phoned the doctor and asked for a home visit. This was unheard of. The last time she had done that was when everybody in the house, apart from me, had got he mumps. I don't know why she did and mum never could say why she did either.
I stayed in my bedroom that morning reading. We were waiting for the doctor. Helen slept. Mum took her temperature and asked me to look to see if I could see a rash. I couldn't. A locum doctor arrived and came up to look at Helen. She didn't wake up when he looked at her. He was in the room no more than 5 minutes. He looked at mum and said ' I don't want to alarm you but I'm going to phone for an ambulance' He went downstairs and made the call.
The doctor's surgery was at the bottom of the road. He asked if I could walk down and collect a letter from the surgery and give it to the ambulance men. I don't know why he didn't write it there and then, maybe her doctor needed to sign it. I know he left by car and I walked down to the surgery. My sister's friend's mum was the receptionist on duty. She looked white when she gave me the letter I needed. I ran home and arrived before the ambulance.
Mum was with Helen but went to wait for the ambulance when I got back. She showed me the rash on my sister's body before she left the room. Two ambulance men arrived to collect my sister. When they tried to get her she started screaming and hitting them. Looking back it was a funny sight as these two burly men were being beaten by a screaming banshee. Mum couldn't watch. They decided they needed to restrain her and one left to get a stretcher/wheelchair.
My sister was still in bed and the ambulanceman asked me if she was decent under the covers. I didn't know the answer. They pulled back the covers and she wasn't. Whoops! They asked if I could get her dressed. 2 minutes earlier she had been a screaming banshee with flailing fists but she was my sister so of course I would put some underwear on her. I searched her draw for her lucky knickers as I knew she would need those. The men had left the room but came back in. Helen had gone quiet by now so they got her out of bed into the chair where they strapped her on and carried her to the waiting ambulance. I watched them load her in and I watched my mum get in to. The doors closed and they drove off.
As they were closing the doors my neighbour was driving down the road. She stopped the car and got out. I remember her asking if everything was OK. I remember shaking and telling her I had to wait for the ambulance to be out of sight. I couldn't cry until mum and Helen were out of sight as they were relying on me. When the ambulance vanished I told 'auntie' Jenny what had happened. She was supposed to be going out but cancelled her plans.
I sort of switched from tears to bossy mode. Granny had phoned when the ambulance had turned up which is why mum wasn't in the room. Mum hadn't told her it was expected meningitis as Granny was 84 and very easily distressed. She did know Helen was going to hospital though so I sent auntie Jenny to Granny to make sure she was alright.
Next I tried to contact Dad. It was Christmas and he was at a Christmas lunch. His office didn't know when he would be back. I phoned his office 3 times. On the last call I his boss answered and asked what the problem was. I told him Dad needed to go straight to St Heliers as Helen was ill. I wrote Dad a note and left it on the kitchen table and then got in the car and drove to the hospital. I hadn't been there since I was born and wasn't exactly sure of the way but knew roughly here it was!
I found Mum in the waiting room. Helen had been taken for tests. Whilst we were sat there she was wheeled past us. She looked terrible. They took her for a lumbar puncture. We sat waiting for ages. Dad arrived whilst we were waiting. He'd gone straight home from his lunch and found the note on the table. As an ex policeman he knew exactly where to go for the hospital. Eventually we were taken to the relatives room. Helen was on a life support machine in intensive care. We were warned she was going to be all wired up and was in a coma so wouldn't be able to communicate with us. We were also given tablets to take, antibiotics, to stop us getting it too.
That evening Mum and dad sent me home. I phoned Granny to let her know what was going on. Nobody had told us about the side effects of the tablets. They turned your wee bright orange. Dad came home later that night.He had had a nasty experience in the public toilets whilst using the urinals. Bright orange pee in front of an audience was something he would have preferred not to happen! We had forgotten Helen was supposed to be going out with her boyfriend too! He called to find out why he had been stood up and dad told him what had happened. In the morning we phoned the hospital to check. There had been no change. They had however let her boyfriend in to sit with her as he had turned up at the hospital at midnight with his parents.
Dad went back to the hospital in the morning. Meningitis is one of those diseases where everybody who has been near it has to be told. Dad asked if I could phone school as he didn't want the health authority contacting them before we had. I remember phoning and asking the secretary if I could speak to the Head teacher. They were busy and would phone me back. 2 hours later I phoned again. They were still too busy to speak to me. 1/2 hour later the phone rang. It was Mrs Batterley, my old French teacher. When she said who it was I wanted to stand up and say Bonjour madame but resisted the urge. The health authority had just been in contact with the school. Mrs Batterley was head of sixth form and was phoning to apologise for not returning our calls. She wanted to know all the details and could she keep phoning for updates.
I went back to the hospital then. We were told the first 24hours would decide if she would live or die and the next 24 hours would decide how much damage there was. Dad took mum home whilst I was there. She had survived 24 hours so that was good. Mum wanted to locate my older sister and get her home. She was away at the time and we didn't have contacted details. Now nobody in my family is allowed to go away without giving every detail possible! I remember talking to Helen and playing New Kids on the Block music to her. When mum and dad came back I went home. School phoned again for an update.
Helen came round after 48 hours. There was no obvious side effects at the start. She was still very poorly though. When I went to visit her I told her I'd put her in her lucky knickers. She looked at me in horror. Apparently she'd failed every exam she wore her lucky knickers in! When she checked though I had put her in the wrong knickers so they became her knew lucky pair!
I remember having to collect her friends from school and take them to visit her. It was Christmas so they had Christmas and get well presents for her. Every evening when her boyfriend finished work he went to the hospital and stayed with her. They'd only been out once! It was Christmas Eve when they let her out of hospital. Her boyfriend came to visit every day. In the end he was given a bed in the spare room to save him travelling . He sort of moved in then and is now her husband. They bought the house from my Dad after Mum died so basically have lived there together since 1990.
The only side effect she was left with was an extreme tiredness. She can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. In fact she has been known to fall asleep in mid telephone conversation, even when she is the one talking!She is one of the lucky ones. We nearly lost her so the fact she falls asleep talking to us is something we are all happy to put up with.
We don't know why she caught it. Apparently the meningitis germs can live dormant in your body with no trouble. Helen is convinced she caught it because she left her drink at the pub standing for so long without drinking it. She thinks the germs in the air got in her drink over time and that's why she got it. I think that's just an excuse to down her drinks fast and drink more.
I know I have seen a meningitis rash. I know to look out for a headache and a temperature. I also know that her eye infection was part of the meningitis as it can often start with an apparently unrelated infection.
The first time I had really heard of meningitis was when I was at my cousins house. I was listening to a conversation about my cousin's friend. She was in her late teens and her parents were away. She was spending the day with her boyfriend but had a headache so sent him home. He phoned her that evening but got no answer so went round to her house. He found her dead in her bed. It all happened very quickly. She had meningitis and she died. That was all the information I knew. She had a really bad headache and died.
Jump forward 6 months to December 1990. My sister was 18, working at Waitrose on a Saturday an had d just started going out with her boyfriend. They went to a pub after work and my sister made 1 drink last all evening. A few days later she had an eye infection. It didn't hurt but her bottom eyelid was swollen and her eye was dripping.
My mum was a firm believer that if you weren't being sick then you could go to school so off to school my sister went. ( Where we lived you did A levels at the school you did your GCEs at). My sister chased her friends around trying to drip her eye on them as it seemed like a good game to play. Her home economics teacher wasn't so amused by the dripping eye and sent Helen home from school. This annoyed my mum but my sister found amusing.
The following morning Helen woke with a headache. She and I shared a room and I was just at home reading. There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary. Helen had a headache and a temperature just like we all had had a million times before. Mum came to check on her and we all sat laughing as normal. Then mum did something really unusual. For only the second time in my life my mum phoned the doctor and asked for a home visit. This was unheard of. The last time she had done that was when everybody in the house, apart from me, had got he mumps. I don't know why she did and mum never could say why she did either.
I stayed in my bedroom that morning reading. We were waiting for the doctor. Helen slept. Mum took her temperature and asked me to look to see if I could see a rash. I couldn't. A locum doctor arrived and came up to look at Helen. She didn't wake up when he looked at her. He was in the room no more than 5 minutes. He looked at mum and said ' I don't want to alarm you but I'm going to phone for an ambulance' He went downstairs and made the call.
The doctor's surgery was at the bottom of the road. He asked if I could walk down and collect a letter from the surgery and give it to the ambulance men. I don't know why he didn't write it there and then, maybe her doctor needed to sign it. I know he left by car and I walked down to the surgery. My sister's friend's mum was the receptionist on duty. She looked white when she gave me the letter I needed. I ran home and arrived before the ambulance.
Mum was with Helen but went to wait for the ambulance when I got back. She showed me the rash on my sister's body before she left the room. Two ambulance men arrived to collect my sister. When they tried to get her she started screaming and hitting them. Looking back it was a funny sight as these two burly men were being beaten by a screaming banshee. Mum couldn't watch. They decided they needed to restrain her and one left to get a stretcher/wheelchair.
My sister was still in bed and the ambulanceman asked me if she was decent under the covers. I didn't know the answer. They pulled back the covers and she wasn't. Whoops! They asked if I could get her dressed. 2 minutes earlier she had been a screaming banshee with flailing fists but she was my sister so of course I would put some underwear on her. I searched her draw for her lucky knickers as I knew she would need those. The men had left the room but came back in. Helen had gone quiet by now so they got her out of bed into the chair where they strapped her on and carried her to the waiting ambulance. I watched them load her in and I watched my mum get in to. The doors closed and they drove off.
As they were closing the doors my neighbour was driving down the road. She stopped the car and got out. I remember her asking if everything was OK. I remember shaking and telling her I had to wait for the ambulance to be out of sight. I couldn't cry until mum and Helen were out of sight as they were relying on me. When the ambulance vanished I told 'auntie' Jenny what had happened. She was supposed to be going out but cancelled her plans.
I sort of switched from tears to bossy mode. Granny had phoned when the ambulance had turned up which is why mum wasn't in the room. Mum hadn't told her it was expected meningitis as Granny was 84 and very easily distressed. She did know Helen was going to hospital though so I sent auntie Jenny to Granny to make sure she was alright.
Next I tried to contact Dad. It was Christmas and he was at a Christmas lunch. His office didn't know when he would be back. I phoned his office 3 times. On the last call I his boss answered and asked what the problem was. I told him Dad needed to go straight to St Heliers as Helen was ill. I wrote Dad a note and left it on the kitchen table and then got in the car and drove to the hospital. I hadn't been there since I was born and wasn't exactly sure of the way but knew roughly here it was!
I found Mum in the waiting room. Helen had been taken for tests. Whilst we were sat there she was wheeled past us. She looked terrible. They took her for a lumbar puncture. We sat waiting for ages. Dad arrived whilst we were waiting. He'd gone straight home from his lunch and found the note on the table. As an ex policeman he knew exactly where to go for the hospital. Eventually we were taken to the relatives room. Helen was on a life support machine in intensive care. We were warned she was going to be all wired up and was in a coma so wouldn't be able to communicate with us. We were also given tablets to take, antibiotics, to stop us getting it too.
That evening Mum and dad sent me home. I phoned Granny to let her know what was going on. Nobody had told us about the side effects of the tablets. They turned your wee bright orange. Dad came home later that night.He had had a nasty experience in the public toilets whilst using the urinals. Bright orange pee in front of an audience was something he would have preferred not to happen! We had forgotten Helen was supposed to be going out with her boyfriend too! He called to find out why he had been stood up and dad told him what had happened. In the morning we phoned the hospital to check. There had been no change. They had however let her boyfriend in to sit with her as he had turned up at the hospital at midnight with his parents.
Dad went back to the hospital in the morning. Meningitis is one of those diseases where everybody who has been near it has to be told. Dad asked if I could phone school as he didn't want the health authority contacting them before we had. I remember phoning and asking the secretary if I could speak to the Head teacher. They were busy and would phone me back. 2 hours later I phoned again. They were still too busy to speak to me. 1/2 hour later the phone rang. It was Mrs Batterley, my old French teacher. When she said who it was I wanted to stand up and say Bonjour madame but resisted the urge. The health authority had just been in contact with the school. Mrs Batterley was head of sixth form and was phoning to apologise for not returning our calls. She wanted to know all the details and could she keep phoning for updates.
I went back to the hospital then. We were told the first 24hours would decide if she would live or die and the next 24 hours would decide how much damage there was. Dad took mum home whilst I was there. She had survived 24 hours so that was good. Mum wanted to locate my older sister and get her home. She was away at the time and we didn't have contacted details. Now nobody in my family is allowed to go away without giving every detail possible! I remember talking to Helen and playing New Kids on the Block music to her. When mum and dad came back I went home. School phoned again for an update.
Helen came round after 48 hours. There was no obvious side effects at the start. She was still very poorly though. When I went to visit her I told her I'd put her in her lucky knickers. She looked at me in horror. Apparently she'd failed every exam she wore her lucky knickers in! When she checked though I had put her in the wrong knickers so they became her knew lucky pair!
I remember having to collect her friends from school and take them to visit her. It was Christmas so they had Christmas and get well presents for her. Every evening when her boyfriend finished work he went to the hospital and stayed with her. They'd only been out once! It was Christmas Eve when they let her out of hospital. Her boyfriend came to visit every day. In the end he was given a bed in the spare room to save him travelling . He sort of moved in then and is now her husband. They bought the house from my Dad after Mum died so basically have lived there together since 1990.
The only side effect she was left with was an extreme tiredness. She can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. In fact she has been known to fall asleep in mid telephone conversation, even when she is the one talking!She is one of the lucky ones. We nearly lost her so the fact she falls asleep talking to us is something we are all happy to put up with.
We don't know why she caught it. Apparently the meningitis germs can live dormant in your body with no trouble. Helen is convinced she caught it because she left her drink at the pub standing for so long without drinking it. She thinks the germs in the air got in her drink over time and that's why she got it. I think that's just an excuse to down her drinks fast and drink more.
I know I have seen a meningitis rash. I know to look out for a headache and a temperature. I also know that her eye infection was part of the meningitis as it can often start with an apparently unrelated infection.
Sunday, 21 February 2010
My Mum and Cancer
I have recently signed up to do a charity trek in aid of Breakthrough Breast Cancer and thought I would share my cancer experience with you. This won't be easy as when my mum was dying, 16 years ago, from lung cancer she asked us not to remember her like that but remember the happy times. For 16 years I have been blocking out memories but now feel it is time to share.
When my family are ill we make sure we are really ill! Not just a chest infection for my son but life threatening pneumonia. Not just a headache for my sister but 48 hours on a life support machine with meningitis. ( We were told first 24 hours would determine if she lived or not and second 24 hrs would determine how much damage there was. She was lucky and survived unscathed)
It was my mum however who had the biggest battles and unfortunately didn't survive the last. Her first fight was with breast cancer back in 1987. I remember her calling me into her bedroom one morning and asking me to look at her boob. She had a bit of a sense of humour like mine and I was waiting for some kind of joke but there wasn't one. I looked and she seemed to have a dimple where skin was being pulled in. She said she could feel something and would I feel. I couldn't feel anything but that might have been because I really didn't want to be examining my mum's boob.
She phoned the doctor's surgery and was asked if it was urgent so she told them she thought she had a lump. The doctor was very good and saw her very quickly. At the time she was covered by private health care so was sent to St Antony's private hospital. My uncle was, at the time, one of the top eye surgeons in the country and pulled some strings to get her seen by somebody he considered to be very good in that field. Results came back from the biopsy to say it was a malignant tumour and needed to be removed.
She went into hospital soon after that and had the lump removed. I remember her laughing when telling us about at a conversation with the consultant. He had said he was very relieved that he had only had to remove the lump as there wasn't enough silicon in the country to replace a boob her size! Apparently my dad had been in the room and had looked like he was going to hit the man, which would have been very out of character. It made my mum laugh and that was all that mattered.
After the surgery she did need follow up treatment. I don't remember if it was chemo or radio therapy. I know lymph glands were checked and I know she had treatment but my memory is foggy on the details. She used to say that she visualised the cancer cells and visualised little men with pick axes bashing away at it to remove. She had her own team of miners removing her cancer. I don't know if her positive thinking and visualisations helped destroy the cancer but it helped her stay strong mentally.
At the time we were due to be going on a family holiday to Florida. My then boyfriend, now husband, was meeting us there as that's where the navy was taking him. I remember mum being worried about a bikini or a swimsuit as she wasn't sure if she was lop sided. I didn't notice if she was. She was given the all clear just before we went away. That made the holiday even more special but the effects of her treatment did show on the holiday. We went to Wet and Wild and instead of being the first on the water slides mum just watched. She spent most of the time on the lazy river as she didn't have to do anything for that. She was sore under her arm and on side where she had had treatment.
After that life returned pretty much to normal. The consultant put her on some tablets that they believed would prevent it ever coming back. She had to go for regular check ups but the timing between these grew longer as the years went by. She was a 5 year survivor of breast cancer and we were delighted.
We had been lulled into a false sense of security though. In January 1993 Mum and Dad went on holiday to Kenya. Whilst out there she did some snorkeling. She had first tried it on our Florida holiday and really enjoyed. This time, howeve, she found it really difficult. Breathing wasn't easy. She went to the doctor when she got back. It was then that the lump in her lungs was found. By then I was married and living away. I can't remember when or how she told me. I considered moving home for a bit whilst she was treated but I had a job and a husband and a life to live of my own.
During the summer we went to visit and I announced that I was pregnant with my first child. I thought my mum would be ecstatic but she wasn't as enthusiastic as I thought. She told me she had always wanted to be at the birth of my child as she hadn't been there when any of her 3 children were born. I know technically she was there but all 3 of us were born by c section and back then mums were knocked out first. I told mum she could be my birthing partner as my husband wasn't so keen. I had it in my head that would be the case.
Mum was treated at the Royal Marsden in Sutton. The treatment was harsh and she was in and out of hospital. I wasn't there a lot of the time but visited at weekends. Mum started knitting again too. We talked about baby names and baby care whilst she was in hospital. We went to the library together one day and she was struggling with her breathing. People kept staring because of the noise. I could see the upset in her eyes. We had to go shopping for a hat one weekend too for my sister's wedding. The lady in the shop made a comment that mum had a nasty cold. I remember her snapping at the lady that it wasn't a cold, it was cancer. The poor woman looked horrified. I don't think mum meant to be mean but it was really hurting her by then. I remember her saying that cancer is a word not a sentence. We clung to that saying. We had to believe that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.
It was October when things got really really bad. I went to visit for her birthday. She had been in hospital but they let her come home for her birthday. When I got there she was on her nebuliser. She wouldn't let me in the room in case the fumes hurt the baby. She was still knitting a little yellow cardigan for my baby.
I went to visit again a few days later as she was in hospital. My dad had phoned to say that mum wanted me. I had been given time off by my boss to spend with my mum. He was a really grumpy old troll but he was very big on family and I was allowed as much time as I liked. When I arrived at the hospital mum was sat with a doctor and my dad. I went into the room and dad and the doctor left the room. Mum smiled and said she was glad I had come. We chatted and she told me I was her best friend. That was a lovely thing to hear as she was my best friend too. My dad came back in to say he was going home and said the doctor wanted to see me when I had a minute. I didn't have a minute, I was with mum.
The next day my sister came to the hospital with me. Mum gave us a cheque to pay into dad'sbank as he had some bills coming out. It must have been a Monday. She always did her books on a Monday. My sister and I did that for her. My other sister arrived the next day. We all sat around chatting in the hospital. I remember one Sunday my cousin came to visit. London's Burning was on the TV. He and I were chatting as we thought she was asleep. She suddenly told us to shut up as she was trying to watch TV. Her eyes were shut so we giggled.
I don't remember exactly when conversations were had. I know she commented that Uncle Ron hadn't been to visit. She said for a Dr who had a huge aversion to hospitals. I think he did come and visit one day but he didn't stay long. She laughed at his lack of bedside manner. Another day she told me not to remember her like that but to remember the good times. She told me how she had been to see ner Gran after she died and that was the only memory she now had of her. She didn't want that for us. She talked about snorkelling at Durdle Dor. When the cancer was getting to her that's where she pictured herself being. She didn't have men with pick axes but she did have a tranquil place to go to in her mind.
Slowly she got worse. My sister and I were sitting with her one day when the nurses came in. Mum spent most of the time asleep and we just sat with her. She was on lots of pain relieving drugs. The nurses needed to change the sheets. They rolled mum over and my sister and I stared at each other in disbelief.She had huge bed sores. They were weepy and horrible and huge. The nurses just rolled her round the bed chatting to each other. It was the most depressing, distressing thing I had seen.
Slowly mum spoke less and less. I would hold her hand and stroke her finger just like she had done for me so many times in the past. The sound of her breathing was gut renching. Sometimes she took huge breathes in and then nothing. My sister and I took deep breathes too and stared at each other.
On the morning of 20th October I had to leave the hospital as I had an antenatal appointment. I had wanted to cancel but with the stress I needed to make sure the baby was ok. I was given a lift to the train station and caught the train back to Fareham. I know I stood on the platform in tears and I know I found an empty carriage to sit in. A guard came round to check tickets. He pointed out I was in a first class carriage but my ticket wasn't. He asked if I was alright and told me to stay there.
I went to my appointment with my husband and then we drove back. I think it must have been in my mother in law's car as ours was still parked in the hospital car park. I hink my husband had borrowed it when I stayed behind but details are at best foggy. I know that instead of going straight to the hospital we went back home. We arrived at the same time as my dad and my sisters. That meant mum was at the hospital alone and that meant she must have gone as we wouldn't leave her on her own.
I was numb. I had let her down.When she needed me most I wasn't there and it was all the stupid baby's fault. That's what I thought because I couldn't face the fact she had gone. I had to go to the hospital to collect the car and I remember staring at her room. They were stupid thoughts in hind sight. The one thing that had been a positive was my pregnancy. Mum had read my notes,helped chose a name, felt the baby kick and wanted to be there. It was the bloody cancer at fault.
I went on to blame the sunbathing my mum did. She used to cover herself in olive oil to get a good tan. If she hadn't would she have got cance? My Granny blamed the exercise machines my mum used. Obviously if you lay on a machine that moved your limbs for you you would develop cancer! My dad blamed the wonder drug that would stop the breast cancer coming back. If we hadn't been lulled into a false sense of security would we have caught it earlier?
I'm not sure about time span. We had to go back to the hospital to the relatives room to collect the death certificate and her belongings. They asked if she had any jewelery and dad and I looked at each other. She had given us her rings to take home before because you couldn't trust people. It made us smile. Dad asked me to come with him to register her death. He didn't want to go on his own and thought I might be able to help. We also went to get quotes for her funeral. When she was in the hospital she told us we had to shop around for her funeral. We weren't allowed to just go to one place as they could rip us off in our grief. We needed to get a goood deal. I remember being in the car with dad trying to decide if we had been given a good price or f we needed to look else where. We couldn't face it and so assumed the price was good.
The joint bank accounts and mum's accounts were put on hold. Dad couldn't get to his money. It was ok though as the cheque mum had made me bank was meant to pay for her funeral. She knew dad would need it.
Her funeral was 2 weeks later, bonfire night. Her best friend was on holiday when she died so dad wanted to wait for her to come home. The day of her funeral was worse than the day she died. Evn the milkman left a note on the doorstep. There were 2 cars if I remember rightly. We followed the hearse from our house. I remember the hearse went through a red light and we followed. Mum was never very good with traffic lights, either stopping when they were green or pushing her luck when they went red. She even did it when she was dead! There were loads of people at the crematorium, some I hadn't seen for years. I wanted to greet and chat with them but it didn't seem right. I remember them carrying her coffin in. It looked too big to be her but I knew it was. I didn't want to believe it though.
That was the battle she lost.
So now I have 4 children who never met their Granny but who know about her. I am jealous of friends who still have their mums and who have great relationships with them. I am hugely greatful for the fantastic relationship I had with my mum when I see friends having trouble with theirs. My sister said to me that I wasn't mum's favourite. I'm not sure why she felt she had to say that. I know mum didn't have favourites amongst her children. I also know I was her best friend. She loved us all but we had a special friendship.
When my family are ill we make sure we are really ill! Not just a chest infection for my son but life threatening pneumonia. Not just a headache for my sister but 48 hours on a life support machine with meningitis. ( We were told first 24 hours would determine if she lived or not and second 24 hrs would determine how much damage there was. She was lucky and survived unscathed)
It was my mum however who had the biggest battles and unfortunately didn't survive the last. Her first fight was with breast cancer back in 1987. I remember her calling me into her bedroom one morning and asking me to look at her boob. She had a bit of a sense of humour like mine and I was waiting for some kind of joke but there wasn't one. I looked and she seemed to have a dimple where skin was being pulled in. She said she could feel something and would I feel. I couldn't feel anything but that might have been because I really didn't want to be examining my mum's boob.
She phoned the doctor's surgery and was asked if it was urgent so she told them she thought she had a lump. The doctor was very good and saw her very quickly. At the time she was covered by private health care so was sent to St Antony's private hospital. My uncle was, at the time, one of the top eye surgeons in the country and pulled some strings to get her seen by somebody he considered to be very good in that field. Results came back from the biopsy to say it was a malignant tumour and needed to be removed.
She went into hospital soon after that and had the lump removed. I remember her laughing when telling us about at a conversation with the consultant. He had said he was very relieved that he had only had to remove the lump as there wasn't enough silicon in the country to replace a boob her size! Apparently my dad had been in the room and had looked like he was going to hit the man, which would have been very out of character. It made my mum laugh and that was all that mattered.
After the surgery she did need follow up treatment. I don't remember if it was chemo or radio therapy. I know lymph glands were checked and I know she had treatment but my memory is foggy on the details. She used to say that she visualised the cancer cells and visualised little men with pick axes bashing away at it to remove. She had her own team of miners removing her cancer. I don't know if her positive thinking and visualisations helped destroy the cancer but it helped her stay strong mentally.
At the time we were due to be going on a family holiday to Florida. My then boyfriend, now husband, was meeting us there as that's where the navy was taking him. I remember mum being worried about a bikini or a swimsuit as she wasn't sure if she was lop sided. I didn't notice if she was. She was given the all clear just before we went away. That made the holiday even more special but the effects of her treatment did show on the holiday. We went to Wet and Wild and instead of being the first on the water slides mum just watched. She spent most of the time on the lazy river as she didn't have to do anything for that. She was sore under her arm and on side where she had had treatment.
After that life returned pretty much to normal. The consultant put her on some tablets that they believed would prevent it ever coming back. She had to go for regular check ups but the timing between these grew longer as the years went by. She was a 5 year survivor of breast cancer and we were delighted.
We had been lulled into a false sense of security though. In January 1993 Mum and Dad went on holiday to Kenya. Whilst out there she did some snorkeling. She had first tried it on our Florida holiday and really enjoyed. This time, howeve, she found it really difficult. Breathing wasn't easy. She went to the doctor when she got back. It was then that the lump in her lungs was found. By then I was married and living away. I can't remember when or how she told me. I considered moving home for a bit whilst she was treated but I had a job and a husband and a life to live of my own.
During the summer we went to visit and I announced that I was pregnant with my first child. I thought my mum would be ecstatic but she wasn't as enthusiastic as I thought. She told me she had always wanted to be at the birth of my child as she hadn't been there when any of her 3 children were born. I know technically she was there but all 3 of us were born by c section and back then mums were knocked out first. I told mum she could be my birthing partner as my husband wasn't so keen. I had it in my head that would be the case.
Mum was treated at the Royal Marsden in Sutton. The treatment was harsh and she was in and out of hospital. I wasn't there a lot of the time but visited at weekends. Mum started knitting again too. We talked about baby names and baby care whilst she was in hospital. We went to the library together one day and she was struggling with her breathing. People kept staring because of the noise. I could see the upset in her eyes. We had to go shopping for a hat one weekend too for my sister's wedding. The lady in the shop made a comment that mum had a nasty cold. I remember her snapping at the lady that it wasn't a cold, it was cancer. The poor woman looked horrified. I don't think mum meant to be mean but it was really hurting her by then. I remember her saying that cancer is a word not a sentence. We clung to that saying. We had to believe that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.
It was October when things got really really bad. I went to visit for her birthday. She had been in hospital but they let her come home for her birthday. When I got there she was on her nebuliser. She wouldn't let me in the room in case the fumes hurt the baby. She was still knitting a little yellow cardigan for my baby.
I went to visit again a few days later as she was in hospital. My dad had phoned to say that mum wanted me. I had been given time off by my boss to spend with my mum. He was a really grumpy old troll but he was very big on family and I was allowed as much time as I liked. When I arrived at the hospital mum was sat with a doctor and my dad. I went into the room and dad and the doctor left the room. Mum smiled and said she was glad I had come. We chatted and she told me I was her best friend. That was a lovely thing to hear as she was my best friend too. My dad came back in to say he was going home and said the doctor wanted to see me when I had a minute. I didn't have a minute, I was with mum.
The next day my sister came to the hospital with me. Mum gave us a cheque to pay into dad'sbank as he had some bills coming out. It must have been a Monday. She always did her books on a Monday. My sister and I did that for her. My other sister arrived the next day. We all sat around chatting in the hospital. I remember one Sunday my cousin came to visit. London's Burning was on the TV. He and I were chatting as we thought she was asleep. She suddenly told us to shut up as she was trying to watch TV. Her eyes were shut so we giggled.
I don't remember exactly when conversations were had. I know she commented that Uncle Ron hadn't been to visit. She said for a Dr who had a huge aversion to hospitals. I think he did come and visit one day but he didn't stay long. She laughed at his lack of bedside manner. Another day she told me not to remember her like that but to remember the good times. She told me how she had been to see ner Gran after she died and that was the only memory she now had of her. She didn't want that for us. She talked about snorkelling at Durdle Dor. When the cancer was getting to her that's where she pictured herself being. She didn't have men with pick axes but she did have a tranquil place to go to in her mind.
Slowly she got worse. My sister and I were sitting with her one day when the nurses came in. Mum spent most of the time asleep and we just sat with her. She was on lots of pain relieving drugs. The nurses needed to change the sheets. They rolled mum over and my sister and I stared at each other in disbelief.She had huge bed sores. They were weepy and horrible and huge. The nurses just rolled her round the bed chatting to each other. It was the most depressing, distressing thing I had seen.
Slowly mum spoke less and less. I would hold her hand and stroke her finger just like she had done for me so many times in the past. The sound of her breathing was gut renching. Sometimes she took huge breathes in and then nothing. My sister and I took deep breathes too and stared at each other.
On the morning of 20th October I had to leave the hospital as I had an antenatal appointment. I had wanted to cancel but with the stress I needed to make sure the baby was ok. I was given a lift to the train station and caught the train back to Fareham. I know I stood on the platform in tears and I know I found an empty carriage to sit in. A guard came round to check tickets. He pointed out I was in a first class carriage but my ticket wasn't. He asked if I was alright and told me to stay there.
I went to my appointment with my husband and then we drove back. I think it must have been in my mother in law's car as ours was still parked in the hospital car park. I hink my husband had borrowed it when I stayed behind but details are at best foggy. I know that instead of going straight to the hospital we went back home. We arrived at the same time as my dad and my sisters. That meant mum was at the hospital alone and that meant she must have gone as we wouldn't leave her on her own.
I was numb. I had let her down.When she needed me most I wasn't there and it was all the stupid baby's fault. That's what I thought because I couldn't face the fact she had gone. I had to go to the hospital to collect the car and I remember staring at her room. They were stupid thoughts in hind sight. The one thing that had been a positive was my pregnancy. Mum had read my notes,helped chose a name, felt the baby kick and wanted to be there. It was the bloody cancer at fault.
I went on to blame the sunbathing my mum did. She used to cover herself in olive oil to get a good tan. If she hadn't would she have got cance? My Granny blamed the exercise machines my mum used. Obviously if you lay on a machine that moved your limbs for you you would develop cancer! My dad blamed the wonder drug that would stop the breast cancer coming back. If we hadn't been lulled into a false sense of security would we have caught it earlier?
I'm not sure about time span. We had to go back to the hospital to the relatives room to collect the death certificate and her belongings. They asked if she had any jewelery and dad and I looked at each other. She had given us her rings to take home before because you couldn't trust people. It made us smile. Dad asked me to come with him to register her death. He didn't want to go on his own and thought I might be able to help. We also went to get quotes for her funeral. When she was in the hospital she told us we had to shop around for her funeral. We weren't allowed to just go to one place as they could rip us off in our grief. We needed to get a goood deal. I remember being in the car with dad trying to decide if we had been given a good price or f we needed to look else where. We couldn't face it and so assumed the price was good.
The joint bank accounts and mum's accounts were put on hold. Dad couldn't get to his money. It was ok though as the cheque mum had made me bank was meant to pay for her funeral. She knew dad would need it.
Her funeral was 2 weeks later, bonfire night. Her best friend was on holiday when she died so dad wanted to wait for her to come home. The day of her funeral was worse than the day she died. Evn the milkman left a note on the doorstep. There were 2 cars if I remember rightly. We followed the hearse from our house. I remember the hearse went through a red light and we followed. Mum was never very good with traffic lights, either stopping when they were green or pushing her luck when they went red. She even did it when she was dead! There were loads of people at the crematorium, some I hadn't seen for years. I wanted to greet and chat with them but it didn't seem right. I remember them carrying her coffin in. It looked too big to be her but I knew it was. I didn't want to believe it though.
That was the battle she lost.
So now I have 4 children who never met their Granny but who know about her. I am jealous of friends who still have their mums and who have great relationships with them. I am hugely greatful for the fantastic relationship I had with my mum when I see friends having trouble with theirs. My sister said to me that I wasn't mum's favourite. I'm not sure why she felt she had to say that. I know mum didn't have favourites amongst her children. I also know I was her best friend. She loved us all but we had a special friendship.
Tuesday, 16 February 2010
For those that 'don't get' twitter
When I tell people that I tweet I quite often get odd looks and the comment 'I don't get twitter'. They tell me that it's just people telling you what they've had for breakfast and when they've put the kettle on. Sometimes it is just that but for a people watcher that can be quite interesting.
I guess twitter works best when you follow several people and you are followed by just as many. Some of my best friends are on twitter although I've never met them. I know them a lot better than I know my real friends and I know that if I need advice or somebody to talk to there will always be somebody there for me.
You can learn so much from what people tweet and really cultivate friendships. Take for instance @yesno94 and @lauraa_14. They had met each other in real life but didn't really talk or acknowledge each other. Then they started tweeting. It didn't take long for a friendship to grow on twitter which then developed into a relationship. They have been together 6 months so far and have friends on twitter spying on their relationship.
Twitter is more than a chatroom and more than just status updates. It is full of status updates and conversations resulting from them and you can make it what you want. It can be the first to break news, be used for good causes and creates debate. However you chose to use it twitter holds a lot. So for those that don't get twitter take some time to people watch, follow several people and start a conversation. You may be surprised where it leads!
I guess twitter works best when you follow several people and you are followed by just as many. Some of my best friends are on twitter although I've never met them. I know them a lot better than I know my real friends and I know that if I need advice or somebody to talk to there will always be somebody there for me.
You can learn so much from what people tweet and really cultivate friendships. Take for instance @yesno94 and @lauraa_14. They had met each other in real life but didn't really talk or acknowledge each other. Then they started tweeting. It didn't take long for a friendship to grow on twitter which then developed into a relationship. They have been together 6 months so far and have friends on twitter spying on their relationship.
Twitter is more than a chatroom and more than just status updates. It is full of status updates and conversations resulting from them and you can make it what you want. It can be the first to break news, be used for good causes and creates debate. However you chose to use it twitter holds a lot. So for those that don't get twitter take some time to people watch, follow several people and start a conversation. You may be surprised where it leads!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
