For shits and no giggles

There was a lot of the first but not many of the giggles for that matter! I was on an absolutely sausage roll with my writing then a plague hit the expat estate!! We had the most horrible D&V bug ever which resulted in both the children in hospital requiring IV fluids. Miss C was only in for a few hours and about 20 minutes after the IV infusion started she was bouncing around like a cocker spaniel. LPV on the other hand wasn’t quite so lucky. He had the same the treatment but didn’t respond as well as she did. Now I don’t tell hospital staff I’m a nurse as our Peadiatrician knows and doesn’t treat me like a normal Mammy, he treats me like a colleague and whilst I respect him for respecting me as a professional I am a Mammy first and I haven’t practiced for 10 years! Now I don’t believe I will ever lose all my skills, they’re etched in my brain, I KNOW for a fact I haven’t lost my instincts and I trust them both the Mammy & nursing ones 100%. After a 6 hour infusion and me nagging them constantly to check this and check that. They come to discharge my lethargic  baby boy. I laugh in their face and pretty much tell them they are bat shit crazy if they think I’m taking my child home. After me throwing my toys out of the pram they take a full set of observations and he is admitted overnight and that is where he stayed for the next 3 days.

People who have access to  the NHS do not know how lucky they are, yes I may have had a room which looked like a hotel room but it’s all flounce and no substance. I would have given all of that up for a team of medical staff that understand the term holistic care, that actually have a bed side manner. At one point I was up to my eyes in shit unpleasantries waiting for help, waiting for wipes, waiting for clean sheets. I found the care to be right up there with my poor baby’s symptoms……..I lost my shit, excuse the pun!  on the day before discharge when I had to ask them to recheck his blood sugar, two nurses stabbing him with a needle, he is crying and instead of comfort they tell him, stop crying don’t be a baby, you’re a big boy!! Well…….red rag to a very exhausted bull, before I told them to get out my room, I offered up a little tit-bit on the fact he is only 7 he’s allowed to cry when someone shoves a needle in your arm and I still hate it at the age of 42 so please DO NOT tell not to cry, he’s allowed to cry if he wants too and it DOES NOT mean he is a big baby. After this ordeal, my saviour messages me and tells me to meet her by the lift. I take one look at my bestie holding a cup of tea and the most epic ham sandwich (they hadn’t fed me at all) and burst into floods of tears.

Things picked up slowly and he’s bloods came back normal, we were told we could go home the next day. It’s not an ordeal I want to ever go through again, Cara was my angel, picking up flossy and taking her on playdates etc. The ham sandwich was amazing but it was the love and concern that got me/us through it! It’s very difficult being away from our support network, don’t get me wrong lots of people send love and well wishes and  offered to help that meant so much but it’s the one’s that see through your “I’m ok I don’t need anything” that stick with you!!

Who does it best??

Well it would seem that my beautiful son has taken it upon himself to test the worlds healthcare systems one by one. LPV has been taken to see a Dr twice already on our trip home, once in England once here in Ireland.

NHS walk in centre was good but I can’t help but feel that if was examine properly and not been branded with the “virus” label, he would have not needed to go to see the Dr today. Today I am glad I went with instinct and the risk of seeming neurotic  to everyone, LPV is now on antibiotics for another ear infection.

Hasn’t put a dampener on our trip having a grand old-time with the family!! Mammy is having a wee bit of medicine herself……..ahhh beer!!