Category Archives: hospital

Loss 😞

For 40 years you have been my step-dad.  You were never a major influence in my life but then, to be fair, I had my wonderful Mom to give me all the positive influence I could ever need, but you were always there, in the background.

You have always been a difficult man, but you were “our difficult man” and I have always understood and accepted why you were the way you were.

When we all lost Mom my sister broke all contact with you – saying she had only ever tolerated you because of Mom.  I couldn’t do that – I didn’t want to do that 😞  You were upset and confused at her actions, you didn’t understand.

You’ve been a lovely Grampy to the girls and a friend to the boys, again, they have accepted you for the way you are and have always shown you love and kindness.  You were there the night Lana was born and, along with Mom, you were the first family to hold her and meet your little granddaughter ❤️

Since Mom died, nearly 18 months ago, you and I have spent hours on the phone, both crying for our loss, supporting each other and reminiscing.  I’ve rang you every week to make sure you are ok, making sure you are eating regularly and inviting you over for for dinner and all those special occasions like birthdays, Christmas and Easter.  I know you have no other family and I knew Mom would have wanted us to maintain the relationship we have.

You stopped ringing me regularly a few months ago.  You stopped returning my calls.  You began to decline my invitations to come over and spend some time with us, saying you had made other plans.  I’m happy you are building a life without Mom, but does that mean we don’t fit into that life anymore?  When I spoke to you I told you that I worry about you when I don’t hear from you.  I’ve told you that I will drive over to make sure you’re not poorly.  I’ve also told you that you have my blessing to move on if you meet another companion,  you’re still young enough to love again.  I tell you your granddaughters miss “Grampy” and don’t understand why they don’t see you.  You forgot to ring and wish me or Cam a happy birthday.

I rang you today and you told me you were rushed to hospital last week, you’ve had cancer twice and you were experiencing terrible stomach pains.  They kept you in and then released you saying you were ok.  Why didn’t you ring me? You rang a neighbour to bring you home – instead of your family 😔 You were quite blasé about the whole thing replying “you couldn’t have done anything” but I could have cared and made sure you were ok.

I feel we’ve lost you, along with Mom, and that makes me so sad.

 

Advertisements

On the mend 😄

My wrist is healing, my tooth has now gone off to the fairies and I’m now hopefully on the road to recovery!

My experience of having my wisdom tooth removed was completely pain free – surgeon was very complimentary – I asked him to lift and enlarge my boobs whilst I was under the anaesthetic – he laughed and laughed – he clearly didn’t think I needed a boob job! 😜

I thought I would have all the time in the world to catch up on my reading but have found my head resembling a rocking horse and have spent a lot of time sleeping and doing bugger all really 😳

Today has been the first day I’ve dragged myself from my stupor and actually achieved even logging onto my blog so loads of apologies!

I’m looking forward to returning to work this weekend, providing the doctor is happy with me driving – Ha! If he saw my driving that will be never! 😄

I’ve enjoyed being at home with my trolls last week for half term – took them swimming a few times – well I sat and watched and wondered how many more years 4th born could get away with just wearing swimming trunks?  If she’s anything like me – forever! 😄 Also watched 3rd born in her first “teenage” swimsuit – and hoped she hadn’t stuffed it with tissue – for her sake! 😳

Have a great day folks – the sun is shining here!

My one handed post 😜

Hey folks hope everyone is well 😘

Firstly I would like you all to know it has taken me a week to type this one handed after my operation.  I’ve toiled and strove to write something, in great discomfort and high as a kite on pain killers 😄 but here I am!

Anyway I’m sure you are all pleased to know my operation went well – it was only carpal tunnel surgery, so nothing too exciting or serious – but I am a bit of a drama queen 😜

They were lovely at the hospital.  I was taken down to surgery by my new best friend “Patrick the Porter” he was rather dishy and we got on a treat.  He admired my Batman slippers and my yellow SpongeBob socks 😊 I flirted outrageously, well as outrageous as you can be in a pair of yellow SpongeBob socks …. Of course it all went to pot as I climbed onto the operating table and realised I hadn’t shaved my legs!

Anyway I’m now incapable of doing much – with stitches and a large bandage on my right hand.  I had first born brushing my hair and 3rd born shaving my left armpit on my return home – I tried shouting for “Wipers” but no one came ………

Jeff has been a bloody star ❤️ he’s done the shopping and made me endless cups of tea – plus he washed my hair – which is marvellous – seeing as he hasn’t got any of his own …….. 😄

I’m also having that bastard wisdom tooth removed next Monday – infortunately will be unable to fight the dentist with dodgy hand 😕

In the meantime I intend to do loads of reading – seeing as I can’t do much else!  Happy Tuesday folks – have a good one! 😀

Tuna Pasta – or just Tuna 😜

My operation on my wrist is scheduled for this Thursday – this deserves a whole post of its own so I’ll come back to that 😜😜

I’m very worried …………. 😳😳

No, no, no – not worried about my operation.  I’m worried how the household will cope without me!

A bit arrogant, I hear you mutter?  I don’t think so Ha! 😄 I shot out the door yesterday telling Jeff to dish up Lana some Tuna Pasta for lunch.  Came home to see her eating a tin of Tuna with a fork – Jeff only caught the word “Tuna” – so that’s all she got! 😄😄

Yes I’m worried – he will be in charge – whilst I lounge on the sofa watching Jeremy Kyle! 😜

I’m here for my Tooth dammit!

Remember my broken dodgy wisdom tooth?  Well it’s still awaiting extraction but yesterday I had to go for my pre-op assessment at the hospital.

I followed the directions to the building I required – only to find my TOOTH clinic was in the same building as the Sexual Diseases Clinic! 😳

And if that wasn’t bad enough – the entrance was on the main road – my appointment was for 9.00am – rush hour – so I played the part for all the watching motorists sat in the traffic – and had a good scratch before entering the building! 😄

The enormous turnip 😄

All my children, at various stages of their childhood, have loved to hear all the details about their births – obviously not the older ones now – the whole idea of mother ever having sex is just gross and a taboo subject.

When they were younger they all wanted details, competing with each other as to who was the fastest and easiest, who managed to create the most stitches, who was the biggest/smallest/cutest – who had the cone head for the longest, who fed for the longest, who gave mommy the biggest piles – bloody hell, I could carry on for hours – but I’m sure you get my drift 😳

Incidentally my hardest labour was, unsurprisingly, 1st born – 27 hours in labour, every drug and pain relief used – I begged to be hit over the head with a bedpan – killed, anything – just stop this bloody pain!

I was telling him about how he was eventually delivered in the theatre with shovels – that they pretended were forceps – round his head.  He eagerly listened as I told him how his Daddy was there, and the Surgeon, some midwives and a few medical students all urging me to PUUUUSSSHHHH ………….

He looked at me with awe and then said

“I was just like the Enormous Turnip wasn’t I”😄😄

Dentists, velociraptors, drugs and all that shit!

What a bloody week I’ve had – I’ve been so drugged up I feel like I’ve done a week at a Rock Festival – but with none of the fun that goes with it 😳

When I was at primary school we used to have a mobile dentist come to the school – in his little caravan.  It was so exciting – we would all queue up, pushing and shoving, desperate to get in that caravan – he was abit like the Child Catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang 😄 we would love to have our little shiny teeth looked at – get a sticker and some of that pink stuff to swill around in our little mouths.  And then it all changed 😳 My Mom started taking us to a private dentist.  I could name and shame him cos I know he’s long dead now – I know this because he was about 80 when we used to see him – I think he also had Parkinson’s as he used to shake like fuck when that drill was in our mouths ………… This is where my fear came from!

As a consequence I tend to only go to the dentist when absolutely necessary – or for my children, who have bloody perfect teeth, due, I’m sure, to me forcing a toothbrush in their little mouths making sure they never have cavities.

So off I trotted to see my dentist – at this point I was on pain killers every 4 hours and also antibiotics.  I started to cry as soon as he pinned me down on his chair – with his knee 😳 actually he was really nice and kind – which made me cry even more – how can someone so kind inflict so much pain for a living?  Actually that’s a lie too – he didn’t hurt me – apart from his knee 😳 and even though I behaved like a wailing velociraptor and tried snapping at his fingers – and his knee – throughout it all he was very kind – so kind, infact, that I offered to make him a cake 😄😄😄 this is my way of showing love to my fellow man – I always offer to bake a cake for those I love – rather ironic really – seeing as I’m a shit cook ……

Anyway, the end result was the news that yes the tooth must come out – in hospital – which, incidentally is what I wanted.  I’ve done my research and know this possibly isn’t the best answer – but for me I think it is – and also for my dentist – he needs his fingers to continue his career 😜

I now have to wait till they can fit me in for the procedure, so it was a case of keeping my pain under control.  And oh my god – what pain!!!!  I would happily give birth to all 4 of my children – all together – sideways – than feel that level of pain again.

At the moment I’m in a happy place – slurping mushroom soup and scrambled egg up a straw – dribbling and chuckling in the corner, high as a kite on drugs 😄

If you want money or possibly a cake – now is the time to ask 😳😳

Hippo Workend folks, have a food one 😜

The mice in a tin leg ……..

The reason for starting my blog was not only to have a platform to waffle loads of thoughts that run through my head but also to leave something like an online journal for my children to read one day.  Not only so they could reminisce about all the humorous things they said and done but also to have an idea of what and who their Momma is/was and where she came from.

How many times I have thought “Oh I wish I had asked Mom or my grandparents about those things – What was it really like during the War as evacuees?  How did you manage?  How did you feel?” All those unanswered questions that I can never find the answers to now they’ve all gone.

My Mom wrote a short journal of memories which I pounced on after her death.  It gave me an insight as to the sort of child and woman she was.  We seem to view our parents as just that “Parents” never really giving a lot of thought to the “Individuals” they were and what shaped them into being the way they were.

As a consequence I`ve decided to write about my Dad.  Friends will know a little of the history of my Dad, and some of you may have heard me mention that he was an alcoholic – a very lovable alcoholic, never ever violent, he was also a compulsive gambler, which made our lives very hard from a financial point of view.

My earliest memory of my Dad was when I was 3 years old.  He was being helped in the front door by paramedics, he was on crutches and looked so very pale and ill.  In the weeks/months after this I remember him being in bed with a cradle to keep the covers off his lower body.  I don’t ever remember being told why or what had happened, maybe I`ve forgotten.  He had had his leg amputated.

Now one thing I do know is that my Dad was a Sportsman.  He loved football, cricket and horse racing.  I have photos of him as a young man playing for his football team, I believe he was only average but Sport was a huge part of his life.

Whilst playing in a cricket match he got hit in the leg by a cricket ball.  It bruised and didn’t heal properly.  After some weeks he complained to my Mom that his foot didn’t look right and his leg was still very painful.  She had a look, his toes had turned black.  I don’t know if he sought medical help then or whether he waited but gradually his foot and then his ankle turned black – it was gangrene.

I do know that by this time he was admitted to hospital where they told him they would have to amputate.  He had a deep-vein thrombosis in his leg.

My Dad refused surgery and said he would rather be dead than lose his leg.  My Mom told me she sat by his bedside and begged him to have the surgery – he would die without it – did he really want to leave her with 2 little girls to bring up alone?

By the time he agreed the gangrene had spread up to his knee.  Eventually he agreed.

As an adult I can`t comprehend such a major thing happening in my life that I was completely unaware of.  How terrible this time would have been for my parents – and yet – to my parents credit – life continued for me and my sister without any knowledge of what was happening.

So all I remember was Dad coming home after surgery.  Mom said he used to scream with pain – phantom pains in his missing leg and he was so very difficult to live with then.

Move on a few years and here was my Dad – with his artificial leg – made of tin – this was in the late 60`s – early 70`s – I’m sure things are more advanced now.

Here was my Dad – at the pub 7 days a week – even Christmas Day – coming home drunk with no money left to pay the rent or the bills.

Here was my Dad – refusing to ever come on holiday with us as he would miss a darts match or a cricket match, where he would umpire.

Here was my Dad – who was really no Dad at all to us – just a sad old drunk sat in the armchair waiting for the pub to open.

Here was my Mom – working 3 different jobs to make sure we had food on the table, make sure we were warm and had everything we needed.

It was no wonder I spent most of my teenage years thinking what a waste of space he was.  Seeing other Dads, supporting their children, looking out for them, protecting them and then there was mine.

Forward fast to my adulthood.

Here was my Dad – the most lovely grandfather to my Sons, gentle, kind, loving and fun – telling them he had mice living in his tin leg 🙂 – no longer drinking.

Here was my Dad – looking back with regret for losing his wife and children through divorce brought on by his unreasonable behaviour.

He passed away on 8 January 2000.  Emphysema and pneumonia.

I look back at my memories of him.  I can now see clearly that what drove him to drink wasn’t just a selfish choice but most probably depression from the lifestyle he had to adapt to.  The loss of his beloved sports and let`s not forget that in those times Men were Men, who had to look after their families – it wasn’t the done thing to show weakness.  How hard life would have been for both my parents and who am I to ever sit in judgement.

I can understand now.

 

 

Riverdance – the final

IMAG2276
Riverdance Selfie 🙂

 

I knew this photo would pop up on my “Facebook Memories” any time soon – I was dreading it – I knew it would make me cry and I don’t want to cry now.

This photo was me and my lovely Mom at Riverdance last November.  For as long as I could remember, Riverdance was our shared love, something that had been on our bucket list for such a long time.

She was so bloody excited to be going – as was I 🙂  As soon as the music started, I began to well up with happiness, as soon as her little legs began to jig around in her wheelchair, the tears began 🙂

She rocked her wheelchair till she nearly dislodged the brakes and zoomed down the Theatre aisle to join them on the stage.  Her painful arthritic hands clapped together, she sang, she cheered and generally behaved like a 12 year old at a One Direction concert 🙂

We left the Theatre with the music ringing in our ears.

This was to be my last special outing with her.  Five weeks later she was admitted to hospital.  We played Riverdance at the hospital.  I hoped she would remember the joy of that evening.

She never came home again and left us on 21 March 2015.

The next time I heard Riverdance was at her funeral.  I held everyone up from leaving the Service, I wanted to ensure she heard it all one final time, wherever she was.

I haven’t listened to it since that day last March, but I will, one day, and remember that beautiful memory of our last performance 🙂

IMAG1539_BURST001
Love and miss you xx

An unexpected break ……… “snort snort” 😄

And so it came about that my eyeball felt like it was hanging out of my eye – what had begun as a simple stye on my eye – or so I thought – turned out to be much worse.

I don’t like being ill or going to the doctors – I’m far too busy for all that shit – so I put off going to get my swollen eyeball checked out.  Eventually I couldn’t lower my head for the pain, which went from my dodgy eye right down to my jaw.  Jeff eventually had enough and forced me into the car – he had to force me cos I could no longer see the bloody car!  Off we toddled to the Eye Hospital, with me moaning the whole way about how we were wasting valuable NHS time – all for a bloody stye!  By this time I could have fitted half a dozen fat little piglets in aforementioned stye!

On arrival we were rushed through – this was possibly due to me frightening children in the waiting room – seeing as I hobbled along pretending to be Igor – “Master, Master” I called to Jeffrey, I was completely in character role and apart from eyeball nearly hanging out I was enjoying embarrassing him (I do this quite a lot as punishment for not finishing the decorating he started in 2013)

After being seen by various consultants I was rather gobsmacked to be told I had to be admitted immediately – they suspected I had orbital cellulitis, a serious condition which if left untreated could cause blindness or inflammation of the brain.

I was rushed upstairs and put straight on IV antibiotics, I was a bit scared – was I going to look this hideous for ever? my offspring won’t be able to face looking at me!  But more importantly I was going to have to leave Jeffrey in charge at home!!!!!!

“Must stop being control freak, must stop being control freak, must stop being control freak”  I repeated to get my panic under control.  He is more than capable of looking after offspring and animals, I don’t really mean it when I tell him if anything happened to me our children would end up in care!

Well it became clear I was going to be in hospital for a while.  I wrote out a list of instructions – telling Jeffrey all the important things he needed to know, like the children’s names and where to find clean school uniforms – I also gave him instructions on how to wash and brush his daughters’ hair (he’s bald and not familiar with this concept).

Jeffrey went off to collect the offspring and bring them in to see me – I pretended I was playing pirates when they arrived, just to reassure them I was ok 😃 I didn’t have access to a parrot so I improvised with a sick bowl on my shoulder.  They were reassured that eyeball was no longer going to fall out – well hopefully – but I cheered them up by telling them we could have a wicked Halloween playing with a real eyeball!

Once they had left me I looked longingly at my OWN BED!!!!!! Fuck – I couldn’t remember when I last had A BED TO MYSELF – in I climbed – absolute bloody bliss!  No one yelling at me that they’re hungry – no one expecting me to find clean pants for them – No one expecting me to scare the shit out of the cat by hoovering – the list was endless!

There I was laid in my bed armed with my 3 new paperbacks that had arrived from Amazon that morning – in Braille of course! I open up my bag of goodies I instructed jeff to bring me, cashew nuts, cadburys fruit and nut and a bag of pork scratchings (I have a bit of a soft spot for pigs, due to eye situation) shit – should have told jeff to bring me toiletries and clean pants as well as goodies to eat ……

The first night was a bit of a pain as they constantly woke me to administer my drugs but I didn’t mind – I intended to stay in bed the following day and catch up on around 8 years of sleep!

What a rude awakening I had the following day!  “Lisa, you really don’t need to be in bed all day” said Nurse Ratchett – I looked at her feebly, nodded and immediately buried my head under the covers.  I continued to do this all day, pretending to be asleep – only time I surfaced was when I heard the squeaky wheels of the tea trolley  “one tea for Jack Sparrow” the lovely tea lady would call cheerfully.

Nurse Ratchett was back on the war path again “Lisa, if you don’t get out of bed I will have to give you an injection to reduce the risk of a DVT” she threatened – “inject away Nurse Ratchett – I ain’t scared” I replied.  She just didn’t get it – I was knackered, working up to 50 hours a week, 4 kids, husband, a dog and a cat to look after – I was bloody well entitled to my little hollibob.

A different approach was needed and Nurse Ratchett started to play dirty and moved me out of my little haven of a room and transferred me to a ward – I wouldn’t even get out of bed to be moved – I was pushed down to my new home – full of elderly patients – a bloody bus man’s holiday for me!

i gradually ventured up and helped one of my fellow holiday makers onto the commode – due to eyesight impaired I didn’t realise the lid was still on it but we all had a good chuckle about that!  I fitted in a treat with those old biddy’s – we compared facial hair – I won for my extremely unwaxed chin.

IMAG1370They finally let me go home after 4 days – my eyeball was back where it should be and believe it or not everyone had survived at home without me ……………