A Bitter Pill To Swallow

21^st January 2010

Had a show down with a renowned gas company on the phone. An engineer was booked for today at 5pm. I rang them up at 2.30pm to double check that the engineer was on his way. They assured me that he would be here 5pm. I ring them again enquiring why the engineer has not arrived at 5pm. They said it was booked for next week and that they had no knowledge of the engineer turning up today. I flipped my lid with them totally, but I did not swear once. The telephonist said she sympathized with me because she had been left without hot water for three weeks.

So I replied “Did you have a mastectomy in October for cancer too?” She went quiet on the phone and said. “That there was no need for that!”

So I asked her again, “Have you had a mastectomy where you need to bathe regular to soften the scares and implant?”

I was so irate at this women’s replies I handed the phone to Steve.

He said “She won’t understand me the accent gets in the way!”

I refused to speak any further and told Steve to deal with it. The women had tried to flatly deny we had an appointment booked. Even though we had it written on paperwork and they confirmed it at 2pm. She told my husband she would ring back in 5 minutes. The phone rang and I answered, she apologised for the misunderstanding and that the engineer would be there tomorrow.

Why on earth I had to use the pity me card is inexcusable to say the least, but at least my boiler is being fixed. I need a hot bath and so does my family.

23^rd January 2010

The heating is still not fixed or hot water and it is all getting a bit much. Steve has brought a heater from work, but it does not do much. Thankfully I will be at work tomorrow with Sophia. At least me and Sophia can thaw out there and have a warm meal.

Sophia woke up at 1 am vomiting and Steve is not home yet.

3 am Sophia has not stopped vomiting and Steve has not returned my calls. I left a message on his phone clearly stating Sophia needs to go to hospital. I ring the out of hour’s surgery they insist I bring her into hospital if she deteriorates any further. My blood is boiling something fishy is going on and I know it.

3.30 am Steve finally phones me asking what is wrong. I tell him we need to get Sophia to hospital now she’s not well. I get her things together as he enters the door Sophia starts to vomit again. He comforts her while I try to dress her. I cannot start questioning him now because I am too angry and worried about Sophia. We arrive at the out of hour’s surgery at the hospital and the doctor checks her over. He wants a urine and poo sample from her. He says it is a gastric virus that is going round, but if she can’t keep fluid down she will be admitted.

It is 5 am and Sophia has been vomiting the whole time. Her poor little body is shattered and all she wants to do is sleep. They have decided to admit her and place her on drip. She put on a big fight even though they used magic cream on her hands.

7 am and we are taken onto a children’s ward where she can be monitored in a side room. Steve explains his work phone had run out of credit, but what about his mobile phone. I had been calling both phones he seems to confidant with his replies. I curl up in a ball on a chair to watch Sophia.

I text the theatre that I will not be coming into work today because of Sophia being in hospital.

Steve decides to go home to get some rest while I remain with Sophia. He returns back at the hospital at 1 pm Sophia had been calling for her daddy asking where he is. She is still vomiting and her poor body has had enough. At 3.30 pm they decide to give her an anti-sickness drug to help her rest. She finally falls asleep until 6 pm by which time Steve had vanished again.

My anger is subsiding, but the questions I have don’t! My whole marriage is showing massive cracks. I start to look back at his behaviour and question his moves. This stress I do not need.

Sophia has not vomited for five hours now which is a relief. Her personality is starting to return with a vengeance. This child has never been still from 4 months into my pregnancy with her. She has always been active to say the least. She is asking when she can have the canuler removed from her hand.

“I am better now mummy. No more vomiting” she tells me. She gave the nurse a sticker to put on her top.

“She certainly has perked up.” The nurse replies.

Then a doctor enters the room to check her over. “Well it seems she is over the worst. Keep her on dried biscuits, toast and water when she returns home.”

He wishes me and Sophia all the best and she is discharged. That was the longest 20 hours I have had in a long while. I ring Steve to come collect us from hospital not even questioning where he had been. When he arrived he said he was with friends just around the corner, but I don’t care.

Part of me did not want to face up to the facts, but I knew I would have to soon.

We return home and Sophia went straight to bed to sleep. I was not far behind her once I had cleaned up the kitchen. Steve had come home and not lifted a hand to tidy things up. Or was he home at all?

Sophia had woken up at 10 am and by 11am she was vomiting again. We decide to take her back to the hospital. We sit in the children’s section of emergency department. They give her fluid to drink and medicine because she had a temperature, but she brought all of it back up into a bowl. They take her into an examination room and thankfully it is the same doctor that dealt with her the night before. She quickly assesses her and says she is worse than before. Sophia keeps lapsing into sleep and staring into the distance. I’m slowly getting upset Steve has to take over. I’ve gone through too much this last few months. It is finally starting to show in my responses to the situation. To be poorly yourself is one thing. Too watch your child deteriorate in front of you is another. They take her for an x-ray because her abdomen is distended. They put her on another drip to get fluid into her system fast. She was pale and unresponsive to everyone around her.

She was taken into recovery to be closely monitored at fifteen minute intervals.

There was no control over her bowels she emptied them on the bed. I and Steve cleaned her up, but at least her distended stomach had gone down slightly. There were no beds free on the children’s wards upstairs and the doctor was questioning why she was released. I assured her she was fine when she left the hospital that even I and my husband were fooled. They phone around the area to find a bed for her and one was found in another Hospital.

10 pm and we are transferred in an ambulance. Steve follows behind by car and parks in the visitors’ car park.  

Again we have a side room to quarantine Sophia from the other children. There is only one visitor rule so Steve leaves to go home. Sophia settles down to sleep while I watch on. My body is running on adrenalin and I not eaten. Steve returns at lunch time to give me a break. I go for a walk in the lobby I ring my friends and family informing them of the weekend events. When I told them about Steve they had their own version of events taken place. Part of me wanted to cry, but I couldn’t after all I had to go back upstairs to face him. It was not the right place or time at present although some would argue different.