Thursday, 13 February 2014

New Year Woes

I very, very, very nearly titled this post "Meh!" as that is exactly how I feel about now. Although I think I would have deleted the exclamation mark eventually.. it seems too enthusiastic.

2014 hasn't particularly gotten off to the best of starts.

Don't get me wrong, nothing bad has happened per se, but it seems like nothing good has happened either. Well actually, something good DID happen this week, but I'm not allowed to tell anyone. Sshhh!

January saw Princess start nursery. She was so excited. I was excited for her. Now the rose tinted specs promising lazy afternoons, nursery rhyme singing and tales of the playground have come off, I'm left with the harsh realisation that she is no longer mine anymore. For the next 15 years, she belongs to the school and the Government. I have been naughty and allowed her a few days off here and there, but mainly they were actually because she was ill. I would much rather have that time with her now when it's only frowned upon rather than being whacked with a hefty Government fine.

Apart from that, I am actually finding the adjustment to school life very hard. Ross and Princess have slipped into it perfectly, but I've been left feeling very underwhelmed by the situation. As you all know, I am the working parent in our house. This means that I very rarely get to walk her to nursery or pick her up. That fact alone makes adapting to the situation more difficult. What I've also found is that whilst Princess is an absolute pleasure to have in the day time, she comes home from her afternoon session at nursery in a foul mood intent on being naughty. Gone are the hopes of "oh she'll be KNACKERED after she finishes nursery". No. Well, the reason for her naughtiness and attitude may well be due to tiredness.. but that still doesn't mean she sleeps or make the problem any easier.

These days I basically feel like I never get to see my daughter - and when I do, she's never happy. She has attitude in particular with me. Why? I don't know. It may be that I'm the stricter parent, but not in a way that makes me horrible. But when I say no chocolate 5 minutes before dinner, I mean it. When I tell her she'll go on the naughty step.. I mean it. Ross is a bit more lenient and will allow her to get away with more things than I do. Maybe it's because he's more laid back than I am, but either way, sometimes it really feels as if she dislikes me. A lot.

Well enough of that.. what's the point in moaning right?

WRONG. There is a point. To get it off my chest.

The end of January saw Princess being rushed in to the Doctors very ill with her chest. She'd had a cough since before Christmas that she was given antibiotics for. They didn't work, the cough came back and a few weeks ago the Doctors told us she has asthma. She's now on an inhaler twice a day and still struggling with her cough. I wish there was a way we could help her, but I suppose we just need to hope the antibiotics and the Ventolin soon start to make a difference.

On top of all of that, last week saw me take a visit to the hospital. I don't often do Doctors and hospitals.. well rarely ever actually. However, after everyones insisting that the shooting pain in my right side was probably appendicitis, I decided to give NHS Direct a call. They too confirmed it was probably my appendix and made me an appointment at the out of hours. The Doctor there, much to her dismay I might add, realised it wasn't appendicitis. It also wasn't pregnancy or a water infection - honestly, she seemed quite disappointed.

I was referred to the hospital - this was about midnight by the way - and examined lots and lots of times.

One question - WHY do hospitals insist on you seeing several different Doctors where they have to ask you the same questions every single time and all of them examine you individually? Why don't they just read the notes? When I arrive at the hospital with stomach pains, the last thing I need or want is 5 different Doctors each prodding me at different intervals. It's also impossible to produce 3 water samples within the space of an hour when you've been put on to nil-by-mouth.

I digress.. eventually after appendicitis was definitely ruled out, I was sent home with a time to pop back for a scan the next day. It was 2.30am by the time we got home and I was up for work at 7.30am, trouper that I am. We went back to the hospital the next day for my scan. I was stupid enough to think that it would just be an abdomen scan, like what they do when you're pregnant. Oh, how wrong I was.

Luckily the Doctor PJ was absolutely amazing. He was funny, charming and had me and the nurse in absolute hysterics that I almost, almost forgot I had a stick representing Harry Potters wand stuck up my hoo-ha. (And whilst I'm at it, why is it that every time I've ever had an internal or scan, it's ALWAYS male Doctors? Good thing I waved goodbye to my dignity years ago!).

When my scan was finally finished, he delivered the news we'd all been waiting for. I had a cyst on my ovary.

Not just any old cyst. Oh no. A huge, ginormous fuck off cyst that is bigger than my actual ovary. The joy.

After spending the next 6 hours in a waiting room with my fellow comrades - we were all best mates by the end of the day, cheering every time someones name was called - I was taken down to another ward where I was once again given a rather jarring internal by a slightly matter of fact Nigerian man that I couldn't understand. If I hadn't felt violated before, I definitely did after that.

I'll stop with the gross stuff now.. sorry.

Basically I was given the choice to stay in hospital and await an operation, or come home. Obviously, I came home and am now awaiting my operation date in the post. The pain is still there, it's pretty much constant, but it's manageable. I'm not in agony, just uncomfortable.

So 2014 so far has been a bit shit. We're only 6 weeks in, and already one of us is awaiting surgery. I'm feeling detached from my family and overall a little bit meh.

Hopefully things will improve and I can start to enjoy myself that little bit more.

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