I’m on my fourth appointment of the week, I shouldn’t complain as they are looking after me, but still. Three hours of waiting on a hard seat, constantly being elbowed by a three year old completing her sticker book, whilst her mum is more bothered with her phone. Plus my purse is twenty pounds lighter on NHS car parking fees, this week equals a less tolerant Sally ! I guess I don’t like people that much these days .. Or germs.
Today’s dish of the day is a glucose tolerance test… probably why I’m a little grumpy as I haven’t been able to have any food since teatime last night, I do love breakfast it’s the best part of the day! Nevertheless, I have to have a blood test, a sugar drink and then a two hour wait and another blood test to check my sugar levels. I feel that I don’t need this test, my blood sugars were tested four times a day for three weeks in the hospital and it was normal but what’s another test. The other annoying thing is no one in this baby hospital seems to be trained to take blood from a PICC line. So I have to have them stick needles in me to draw blood – the whole point of the PICC line was to avoid this, so now I have a catheter in my arm that’s not being used and my veins are still being destroyed. Sigh, deep breaths. Remember, I’m taking each day as it comes and I’ll drink the nasty sugary orange stuff if I have too.
Jeremy Kyle is on the TV, I can’t complain about my life in comparison, at least I’m not being dragged off to rehab like this guy and his girlfriend, both heroin addicts living in a car because his parents kicked them out, a lot of drama for a Thursday morning, made me well up a little. My mum however (today’s driver) is not impressed, firstly with some of the pregnant states in this waiting room and then being forced to watch a load of states on the TV. No sympathy and she is right! Clearly I’m just overly emotional and weak in my hormonal state.
It does make me think though. Why is it that some people are dealt a rubbish hand in life and are very sick even though they look after themselves and eat well, and then there are those that sometimes appear to not care about what they do to their bodies but seem to get all the luck? Like why can five pregnant women stand outside the Birmingham Women’s hospital smoking, in hospital gowns ready to pop out babies who haven’t signed up for nicotine, whilst some healthy couples can’t conceive at all? Life baffles me.
Anyway this is just a couple of hours of my life, and they are checking for gestational diabetes, so another test won’t harm. I am hoping that I won’t get a call tonight telling me news that I can add gestational diabetes to my illness bingo card that I am currently collecting dots on. Bingo is great, but not sickness bingo, there are never any good prizes! Once done I will devour something yummy, all I can think about is food at the moment. (low fibre, of course) I’m not sure if it’s the steroids or pregnancy (probably both) but I have the serious munchies… I could rival any man size portions but as soon as I eat I am full to the brim. Something I do have the baby to thank for, she is blocking my stomach with her head I think so at least its saves my bowel from overload and my hips or gerbil cheeks for that matter!
The waiting room window I look out to is dirty, floor three has not seen a window cleaner since 1996 I reckon, it’s June, and it’s raining. I sit in a room that is a vile deep green colour, I have no idea who designed this hospital but it wasn’t Carole Smiley’s team, its hardly tranquil for mothers worried about glucose intolerance. I am armed with a bridal magazine that was given to me yesterday as gift from my lovely friend Stacey, a distraction from the dull it is my intention to embark on the bridal world I (feel) I should now be a part of.
I am still struggling to realise what has happened in the last week, a crazy week of my life. A tragic funeral, the birth of my nephew and a proposal … all whilst still managing post hospital side effects both physically and mentally and the good old faithful crohns. The rollercoaster of life. In fast forward.
As I flick through the pretty bride pictures I figured that even thinking about a wedding is impossible, all week the big question of ‘how are you feeling sal ?’ Has now changed to ‘when are you setting a date?!’ Err hang on, I have a baby to pop out and crohns to conquer first … one step at a time right? There is no way this battered body is trying on dresses anytime soon, not to mention the post birth trauma , tummy situation and c section scars .. Will I ever be the same again? Has Matt proposed a little too late – the dreamy youthful bride vision has been replaced by some haggard old woman look with terrible eye bags, and a permanent double chin! Ugh! The only thing great right now is that I’m the smallest I have been in years, so the skinny bride look with the model thigh gap I can tick, just ashamed about the rest of it. This cute bump will only last 10 weeks and then lord knows what I’m left with! Ugh … a shell of myself. I have no choice but to deal with this impending issue when it comes (with a slender tone machine perhaps?!)
We all want to be the bride before 30, or so it seems… every girl at 28 seems to start going into panic mode… why do we do this? So much pressure, get married, have babies, the house a good career. It never ends. It is probably best not to think about my post 2016 war body anyway… not too mention if I decide to have surgery after baby is here and go for an ileostomy, another load of decision pressure I don’t need but essential work if worth it. A bride with a bag. Now that’s a new one,not sure they have a section in Bridal mag for that — guess the infamous wedding day loo trips will be a new one – one less awkward duty for the bridesmaids holding my puffball dress …!
I’m getting ahead of myself, reality is I’m in this vile green waiting room – to which I am best to keep looking at the pictures and think no more (for now), the magazine does scare me a little , it means more lists , lists rule my life , baby lists , shopping lists , appointment lists , house lists .. guest list? I love a good list but how will I ever do anything else? I don’t need another list in my life, I’ll just be a content fiancé for a bit… I like this idea a lot, and financially that’s a better option! (Hello maternity pay! how will you stretch?)
I waited six years for the question and I’m now sat putting it to the back of a long life queue, typical!
The upside is at least I won’t be getting the inevitable question of, ‘when are you having kids?’ beat them to it on that one! ha ha. got there first didn’t we! avoiding another life pressure every couple has to face. Phew 🙂
Are two hours up yet… I need food !