Monday, 26 November 2012

So, that was November then.

I've not been around much recently.  Want to know what I've been doing?  Here's a run-down of events since the end of October:

1. Rory comes down with vomity bug on the weekend half term starts.  Weekend a write-off.

2. The pure joy that is half term with a still slightly sickly and bored child.  Twitch.

3. That weekend, my husband goes out in Manchester with colleagues and stays at one of their houses.  Or so I think.  I get woken up by a phone call from a very nice nurse at Trafford General Hospital at 7am on the Saturday to say that they've got him in with a head injury.  Brilliant!  Excellent way to start the weekend.  No other information available until half an hour later he phones me and says they've made a mistake, he hasn't hit his head at all, he has only a slight graze on his cheek and he's going to walk 3 miles to the car and drive himself home.  He sounds a bit odd and I try to tell him this and beg him not to drive home, but he is irate and won't listen.  Panic filled 2 hours spent convinced that he's going to crash and kill himself on the way home. Miraculously, he eventually walks in having not crashed during the 45 minutes drive.  But no wonder he sounded odd and was so cross - he has HORRENDOUS CONCUSSION and a massive bruise and grazing all over one side of his forehead, eye and face and proceeds to be Very Ill Indeed for the entire weekend.  Turns out he threw himself out of a taxi onto his head and was out cold.  Has no memory of any of it.  I grow several hundred more grey hairs over the weekend.

4. Rory develops a terror of pre-school and has to be prised off of me screaming and crying every time I drop him off.  He shakes every time we even approach the building, cries at the thought of going and attempts all manner of emotional blackmail on his fraught mother.  Gets worse every day.  By the end of the week, I feel like crying with him whenever I drag him through the door and have to prise his fingers off of the door frame.

5. Rory gets a nasty virus, which lasts for nearly 3 weeks and means a LOT of missed pre-school, which is really going to help with his new phobia.  I have piles and piles of work building up that I can't get done because of having to look after ill child injured husband.  General illness turns into the worst cough I've heard in a long time that keeps him awake at night and means endless trips out of bed and into his room for me.  3-4 hours sleep per night every night for a fortnight or maybe even more - I lost count.  Was like having a newborn baby but without having to whip breasts out every time I got out of bed.  Every time I think he's on the mend, he develops a different symptom, most notably, a baffling measles-like rash.  Many trips to the doctors.

6. At some point during this period, he also manages to dive head first off a chair, smacking his head hard on the floor.  On examination, his pupils are wildly different sized, so off we go in an ambulance - the second member of my household to be at hospital with a head injury in a week.  Discharged, come home, weep a bit.

7. At another unspecified point in this endless 3 weeks, I catch the virus and spend a week feeling awful.  Rich isn't allowed to take time off in November and December because he is a Retail God, so I have to carry on looking after poorly death wish child on my own whilst feeling like proper shit.

8. Rich catches the virus.  Only somehow - do not ask me how - he manages to get dangerously dehydrated with it over the weekend (we're on wrecked weekend number 4 here).  Is that another admission to hospital I see? IT IS!  Off he goes to be put on a drip and kept in overnight.  Rory in pieces about daddy being in hospital yet again and still really ill himself.  To add insult to injury, the morning after Richard's admission to hospital, Rory chokes on something and has to be held upside-down and smacked on the back to dislodge it. this starts off a new obsession/phobia about eating.  Tra la la.  Rich comes home after nice restful night in hospital with skin like a beautiful ripe peach after a night on a drip, having been brought Sunday lunch on a tray to eat in bed.  I'm frantically plucking another 300 grey hairs out, prising my eyes open with matchsticks and my hands are shaking whenever I sit still because of the stress.

9. Richard is better and back at work.  Rory's rash is nearly gone and he's almost well enough to go back to pre-school.  The end of another day is in sight and I'm contemplating hitting the gin.  So what does Rory do? Dives head first off a chair again, landing on his head on the floor, which makes a sound like a coconut being dropped.  Have mild breakdown.  Fortunately pupils fine this time as, frankly, cannot take him to hospital again or social services are going to be round convinced that I am abusing my husband and son.

10. We're so nearly at the end of the last awful week.  It's Thursday.  I can make it...I can make it...I can...OH FUCK, my back's gone 'twang' and I'm stuck in the middle of the living room floor unable to move with a 3 year old, husband unable to come home and help me because it's the Christmas rush at work, no food in the house as I was just about to go to the shop to buy some, my dad ill and my mum on crutches with an equally dodgy knee so they can't help, in-laws in Australia for 3 weeks.  Dial out for pizza, spending my last 12 quid in the process and inch across the floor to get it from the delivery man when he turns up.  Take a lot of Codeine.  Bemoan lack of downstairs toilet.  Write off all the work that's piled up over 3 weeks that I've sworn I will do as soon as everyone's better because I can't even sit at the computer.  Think about gin.  Can't have gin as on Codeine.  Sniff gin and think of happier times.

That just about brings us up to date.  Husband is at work, child is finally back at pre-school, my back is bearable enough for me to sit and type for the first time in a few days and I'm bracing myself for the onslaught of the next lot of work about to come in.  If anybody ever wants to use me again, that is, seeing as I had to let a couple of people down in the last 3 weeks.  I'm sorry, people.  Hopefully this goes some way to explaining.

The rest of you, I'll be back on it with more tales of domestic crappery ASAP and I have a fabulous giveaway for you which will go live either today or tomorrow depending on how much I get through this afternoon.


  1. Oh dear lord!!! I do hope December is better x

  2. Oh my word! It can only get better, can't it?

  3. OK. You're forgiven. I hope that gin bottle has finally been emptied?!

  4. Oh good lord!! I hope you've consumed much gin by now! Wowza!! X

  5. :(
    ...sorry to hear of your über shitty November.
    When it rains, it really pours dunnit?! Well they did say it was a particularly wet November, looks like you've endured some flooding - just flooding of a different sort.
    Praying you get back up on your feet soon, and everyone is healthy enough to enjoy Christmas.

  6. OMG I'm worn out for you! Go lock yourself in the bathroom for an hour and just sit there, maybe rock yourself a little in the corner ... or is that just me

    Glad you're all well again, put a helmet on the child ;)

  7. Bloody hell. That sounds like a pretty appalling November. Bad, bad, bad. Glad things looke like they're getting back to normal. Sort of. Hope the back gets better soon!

  8. "looke"?! OK, I just made up a new word there.

  9. goodness you dont half do things by halves!!

    hoping December is a far better month for you guys! x

  10. Jaysus. You don't do things by halves, do you?

  11. Oh god that sounds awful, I really hope Dec is a better month for you all!

  12. November sucks donkey dick...