It was Sunday night. Day 5 of the holidays and all was going well. For those of you who watched Big Brother, I totally said that in the voice of Marcus Bentley, the narrator.
Harry was feeling apprehensive about going to Summer camp. He’s a meat and two veg, stay at home kind of guy.
Our Harry does not like to drink. I have to blackmail him or set water challenges throughout the day. Our Ollie would take all his meals in liquid form given the chance. I’m of this volition too, but more of a grown up drink!
Harry started getting floppy just after dinner and his tummy started to hurt.
Naturally I thought he was
a) trying it on a bit
b) dehydrated
c) over heated
d) possibly needed a poo.
So we did the bed time wind down and got them to bed pretty smart and I promised to sleep in with them, a given when one is sick.
Lee had to go up and check on them a few times as we heard Harry arguing with someone over the monitor. Ollie was non plus and swore it wasn’t him. Harry was fast asleep. Note to self, must write a blog about all the sleep walking and talking our family get up to!
Fast forward to 3am and all of a sudden Harry is in agony. His temperature was sky high and he was complaining of pains in his chest and tummy, it even hurt to touch. I tried Calpol, Andrew Salts and gently banging him on the back and set a timer to give it all time to work.
20 minutes later and Harry was still in agony so I got him dressed quickly. Tied a cold towel round his head a la Rambo, equipped him with a water bottle, sick bowl and Wheatsy his favourite cuddly dog , given to me by Nanny Pat and off we went to the hospital.
It was a very peaceful ride and Heart were playing some tunes. We spied a fox and Harry asked why the night sky was blue and green.
We got to the hospital only to find it shut and not opening until 07:00. Great.
However, on the drive home, everything got to work and it was a loud and smelly journey which Harry obviously found hilarious. I thought he was going to rocket himself out of his seat at one point.
Ollie was awake when we got back and desperate to give us both a cuddle and comfort us.
Managed 3 hours and 49 minutes sleep, Fitbit told me. The boys still made it to camp and I made it to work. Proud of my little troopers.
Harry apologised which I assured him was completely unnecessary. I then told him about the time in my early 20’s (yes I remember that long ago) when I’d called 111 thinking I was having a heart attack. The advisor asked me to sit up and I let out a mahusive burp. I was very embarrassed, but he laughed and said he was glad it was wind and not heart failure. Me too!
That reminds me, it can’t have been more than a month that Lee and I had been dating when I got gluten poisoned. I had to get on all fours and rock back and forth and ask Lee to slam me on the back as hard as he could. It felt so good and did the trick and resulted in the most loudest and fullest of burps. I knew then that Lee was a keeper although he was slightly worried how it must have sounded to our neighbours!
Turns out, before my time, a lady at work had been stretchered out into an ambulance and whizzed to hospital only to find she had wind. Think that would have been more embarrassing.
We’ve probably all got our own wind stories.
Right, the Twinkles and I have a day of fun planned so I best be off.
Love and hugs, kisses and wishes xxx
A cheeky little Twinkle update xxx 