The week from hell…
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…
Yep, quite a week, indeed!
Yes, that Sunday night at, what, about 22:15 when I got the call and rushed down to the Walk-In Centre to take you all to East Surrey Hospital. I nearly didn’t answer, I’d already had enough of work calling at all hours. In fact my deliberately sluggish move to the phone meant it had stopped ringing. 1471 – it was a mobile number but I didn’t bother checking who it belonged to. Then about a minute later another call. Okay, what the heck, I’ll help our Out of Hours Support once more. Except it wasn’t them. It was Hobbit, as she goes on these blogs, and the tone of her voice and substance of the call put me into no nonsense mode. I agreed to help, asking no questions, and immediately grabbed my keys and drove to the hospital.
All the way there the fear had really settled in my stomach. I got to the hospital to find them standing outside, Jamie appeared okay from what I could see in the dark, the lights around the hospital meant it wasn’t too dark – there was no blood or limbs being held awkwardly. How bad can it be, then?
It was on that oh so long feeling drive to East Surrey Casualty that the possibilities really started to sink in. That and when the words brain tumour and stroke came up soon after sitting down in the waiting room. They were called in quite quickly, clearly jumping the quite large queue of misfits you’d find on a Sunday night in casualty. That wasn’t a good sign either. Then the waiting began.
That’s when you find those unthinkable thoughts aren’t quite as unthinkable as you’d like. I can’t remember the last time I was so frightened. It was a particularly strange observation that it seems impossible to be bored in such circumstances. I’ve never noticed that before but then it’s not often that I quite so concerned about something.
The diagnosis was, obviously, a great relief. Still, driving back home, and for the next couple of days, I still had a slightly unsettling thought ‘what if they were wrong’? That’s pretty much gone now, after spending a bit more time with Jamie this weekend. He says he is improving slightly, so I am happy to accept the ‘fairly common’ Bell’s Palsy.
I’m certainly glad I didn’t disconnect the phone that night. It may not have been the most pleasant of experiences but I am glad I was there to do what little I could. I had considered blogging about this before but thought I shouldn’t be the one to bring it up, hence this being in the form of a reply rather than a proper blog entry.
Then the rest of the week (after only about 4 hours sleep into Monday) was manic like nothing before at work. A big thing happening this coming week and our preparations have not gone well or to schedule. By the end of the coming week I may be even more wrecked than I am now, though! I do have a proper blog entry brewing but I want to give this entry a bit of time at the top before I push it down the page with my silly entry!
I believe the word I’m looking for is ‘eek’ or somesuch. Just glad the lil moose is going to be ok. As for your work, Purcell face, well, you only have yourself to blame for a) deliberatly making yourself indispensable and b) trying to take over the world. I too have one brewing about last week, however, I don’t know wether to do that or use it in a musing…arrrrggg..too many places to write……arrrrrrg