Wow – what a week…
By the time I got to Friday I was ready to curl up in a ball and whimper the weekend away.
Keith and I should be in Brogdale, supping on the finest ciders, eating bread and cheese and enjoying live music with Jean and Bill. But we’re not…
I shall talk you through my week.
Last Thursday our youngest picked up a headache which wouldn’t shift. He’s not a lad to complain of being ill and when he does it’s usually a doozy – I should have guessed.
Headache was still there on Friday and I noticed he kept tugging at his mouth.
Why? said I.
It feels funny, said he.
I kept an eye on him on Saturday and by Sunday he still had a headache, his mouth “wouldn’t go where it’s meant to be” and when he blinked his left eye wouldn’t close properly and his eyeball did its own thing.
One mad dash to hospital followed.
Now, we only have a walk-in centre (no A&E as the government decided a town of 100,000 people, right next to a major airport, couldn’t possibly need one) but they were brilliant and saw him quickly.
The doctor started to use words like ‘stroke’ and ‘tumour’ and, if it wasn’t for the fact it would have terrified the wee lad, Keith and I would have fallen to pieces.
“He has to go to casualty in Surrey” says the doctor.
“We don’t have a car” says us.
Ohshitohshitohshit – thank you very much, Labour bastards.
In stepped The Godfather (Adam) who didn’t need asking twice and drove us up to Redhill and sat in the hospital (which I know he hates) to wait for us. (I always have said our choice of godparents was top notch).
The boy, uncomplaining, went through a thorough inspection. He was poked, prodded, had things shone in his eyes and ears, answered questions even though he was dog tired and was pretty fantastic.
Turned out he has developed Bells Palsy – a paralysis of the left side of his face. He will have to go to hospital every week until it clears. They reckon three weeks for it to start to clear but it could be months before he’s back to normal.
All he seemed to care about was the fact he can now raise one eyebrow (something he’s always wanted to do). Kids!!
It was nearly 1am by the time we all got home and Keith and the wee one took Monday off.
So, a stressful start to the week.
On Tuesday, just as the paper hit deadline and we were all ready to go home, there was an almighty crash outside and a horrible scream. A young girl had been hit by a car – and it was nasty.
While half the office panicked, the other half ran outside to help. I think 100 people, inside and out, called 999.
Meanwhile, in the next office, the manager had looked out of the window, taken in the sight of the poor girl and the large amount of blood and passed out, whacking his head on the fire extinguisher on the way down.
As first aider I spent the next half hour helping him – he was more embarrassed than hurt – while listening to the sound of the stricken girl crying as the paramedics did their work.
I admit to feeling a little queasy by the time I got home.
But I’m full of praise for the folk of Crawley – we had so many people drop in on Wednesday to ask if we knew how the girl was doing. (She’s hanging in there).
And to add to all that, Andrew hasn’t rung.
Two weeks and the little sod hasn’t checked in!!!
I know that means he’s doing fine and is too busy to worry about his mum and dad, but jeez…
Here’s hoping next week goes smoother, though if Jamie keeps scaring the girls in his class with his freaky eyeball, I’ll probably spend it ‘discussing his behaviour’ with the headteacher…
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