Reasons to be grateful

What a week this has been - one I definitely glad to see the back of. It started as normal - work and back to school for the girls after the half term break. The drama started on Wednesday evening when Abi came home from school complaining of tummy ache. She blamed it on the school dinner, saying it hadn't agreed with her and made her feel rubbish. Very unusually for Abi, she took herself off to bed without tea and when I checked on her about 9pm she was fast asleep so I thought nothing of it. The next morning I walked Bertie as usual about 6:30am and came home to find her still in bed. I took Betty around the garden for her morning snuffle and turned to see Abi hobbling down the path, hunched over and very pale. I took one look and phoned the GP, to be told they would ring back "at some point in the morning" - I didn't think it could wait. I called 111 and explained that she had pain across her abdomen which had now moved to the lower right hand side and they confirmed that it sounded too much like Appendicitis not to go and have it checked properly. They offered us an ambulance but at that stage it all felt like it could be a false alarm so we declined and abandoned Bertie to look after Betty and set off for Basingstoke A&E. Glenn was absent for all of this - he had gone to the Chiropractor after dropping Izzy at school and so was blissfully unaware of the unfolding drama.

We arrived at A&E and thankfully it was quiet - first day of lockdown has its advantage I guess. We got checked in after going through the Covid screening (no test at this stage, just a temp check) and then got checked in. After an initial assessment we were sent to an A&E cubical where we waiting, listening to the old boy in the cubical across the corridor attempting to escape after being left on a commode. No advert for getting old. Adam saw us first and pocked and prodded Abi, nodding sagely and saying that while he couldn't diagnose her formally, he was pretty sure it was appendicitis. It was about 11am by this time. We waited a bit longer, in the meantime Abi had her first pregnancy test (not something you expect to do with your Mum watching), and her first Covid test. We were then admitted to the day ward where we waited some more. As all of this unfolded Abi's pain steadily got worse and I got steadily more concerned that we were still waiting to have her properly diagnosed. We passed the time chatting as calmly as possible, with me holding Abi's hand and telling her it was all going to be fine, hoping I was telling the truth. Finally we were told that given the time of day and the imminent arrival of a surgeon that we would be admitted to an overnight ward to save time later. At about 7pm the surgeons finally arrived and we went from everything moving slowly to a whirlwind of activity. They examined her, confirmed the diagnosis and whisked us to the ward where she was given a gown and prepped for the theatre. There was a funny moment where she caught my eye having seen the young and very good looking porter who was in charge of getting there - clearly a highlight of an otherwise scary day. I watched I think half in shock as she was put under a general anesthetic and was then taken back to the ward to wait out what I had been told was a 30-60 minute op. 2 hours later I was still waiting when thank goodness I got talking to another parent who said her son had the same op earlier in the day and he had been much longer than expected - so all normal. I finally got the call about 10:30pm that she was in recovery and I could go and see her. I was expected to make my own way there which was a bit concerning with my sense of direction, but I made it in one piece to find her groggy but chatting to the doctors about her animals - what a relief! 

Of course by this time it was late. Glenn and Izzy had dropped a bag of clothes off (a somewhat random selection of barely wearable items!) so we settled down for one of the least relaxing nights in history. Between worry for Abi, nurses checking her every few minutes, the concrete camp bed I was on and the fact that it was absolutely freezing cold due to the open window blowing a draft straight onto me, I closed my eyes and concentrated on conserving energy. 

The next morning the realisation dawned on me. Poor Abi was still very groggy and in a lot of pain. Its only when someone cuts holes in your tummy that you realise just how important your abdomen is for almost all of your normal movement. On the one hand she was still being pumped full of intravenous drugs, and on the other hand the nurses were telling us she would be going home later in the day. We were informed that it would be mid afternoon and so geared up for this, only to then be left waiting, and waiting, and waiting... until gone 7pm in the end. It was another very long day. We limped out of the hospital and drove home at a snail's pace with me trying to avoid even the lightest bump, and Abi wincing every time I failed. 

And so the recovery begins. The first night was the worst - I stupidly thought Abi could be in the room on her own but by just after 2am I gave up and went in with her. She was having very vivid dreams of being chased by nurses amongst other things! The pain continued and we are now finding that each day brings improvement and slowly does it. She's had to have a nap each afternoon and her appetite is still not great which is very weird to live with when she has always been such a good eater. Throughout she has been utterly brilliant and I've been so proud of how brave she was - a real trooper. I've had to accept that I can't do what I want to either as she cant get to the bathroom on her own, or get in and out of bed or a chair. I am having to march to a very different beat. But imagine the alternative. Imagine a world where there wasn't medical support so readily at hand. It doesn't bear thinking about. 

So if we had any doubts about how to spend lockdown we now know - convalescing! 

Smiles and colour in her checks again!