Musings from a hospital bed…

When you get to the stage where you have to ask strangers to put your stockings on for you….

Day 10 in the Big Brother House Edinburgh Royal Infirmary. Still managing to cling on to my sanity (I think). I have good days and bad days, but there are things I try to do to help me get through the latter, and to try to keep my spirits up to make my stay as bearable as possible.
So here are some of my observations/bits of advice/general ramblings about extended hospital stays. In no particular order, other than the order they popped into my brain…

1. You can never have too much moisturiser, hand cream, lip balm and body lotion. Hospitals are like saunas, your skin will not survive unless you obsessively moisturise.

2. Establish a routine. Then sometimes break the routine to feel like a rebel.

3.Shower and get dressed every day. At the very least, it kills half an hour. And it stops you earning the nickname of ‘the smelly one’.

4. Try to get some fresh air as regularly as possible. It’s often the best medicine.

5. Try not to get into a fight with the patients who gather outside to smoke, polluting your fresh air.

6.Try not to give the evils to the pregnant patients who gather outside to smoke, polluting your fresh air.

7.Drink as much water as you can, for the same reason as point 1.

8. Invest in good quality earplugs (especially when you’re on a maternity ward).

9. Make friends with the staff. Small talk and a smile can be your saviour.

10. Be prepared to make the same jokes with every member of staff you see. (Just try not to make the same joke to the same person twice….not cool).

11. Treat yourself to a sausage and tattie scone roll at least once a week.

12. Take advantage of the little-known free telly between 8am and 12pm. I look forward to my double bill of Frasier at 9am. Yes, I genuinely do.

13. Never turn down the offer of a visitor. Visitors break up the day and tie in nicely with point 2.

14. If you have rubbish veins (like me), make sure you forewarn whoever is about to stick a needle in you. With any luck, they’ll abort mission and call in an expert without making (yet another) failed attempt.

15. Cannulas are the work of the devil.

16. Always order soup as a starter. It’s generally ok, there’s a decent chance there might be some contribution to your 5 a day in there somewhere, and at least you’ll have something in your stomach when the main course is inevitably inedible.

17. Buy more data for your phone.

18. When someone asks if you want anything brought in, ask for fruit. Just trust me.

19. Putting on hospital stockings is actually impossible when heavily pregnant.

20. Just putting on socks is actually impossible when heavily pregnant.

21. Take one day at a time.

22. Fill your laptop with easy viewing box sets. (My current guilty pleasure is Gilmore Girls….)

23. Make the most of the opportunity to read actual books.

24. Never walk around the hospital/hospital grounds in your Pjs and dressing gown. Self respect and standards can – and must – be maintained.

25. Get a portable charger if you don’t have one already. The plug sockets are way too high to be of any use for a charging and chatting combo.

26. Crisps are great, whether you’re in hospital or not.

27. Listen to your favourite music daily.

28. Try to actually get some rest. When else can you lie around all day, guilt-free?

29. Get a visitor to bring you in a take-away every so often.

30. Be grateful you’re not in prison.

Rubbish veins/not a junkie.

Out of the mouths of babes

I love listening to my daughter chat to her friends. Kids are funny when they don’t think anyone else is listening. I distinctly remember one of her first conversations with her little friend Conor (some might say boyfriend, she likes the Irish lads too). The pair of them were in a play tent outside in Conor’s garden, the safe haven of the den protecting them from the adults. The conversation went something like this:

Conor: “Why have you got wellies on Poppy?”

Poppy: “Because I wanted to. Why have you got shoes on Conor?”

Conor: “Because I wanted to.”

Deep.

The other day she had a friend round to play.I guess this was her first proper play date when the friend was there by herself without parental supervision. My motives were purely selfish for inviting her little friend round – if Emma was there, then I would get a break from playing doctors or the game that I’m not allowed to win. Ever. Oh, and I knew Poppy would enjoy it too.

When I heard what the girls were talking about, I realised Poppy had moved on a fair bit since that footwear conversation with Conor a couple of years ago. I was amazed, saddened, inspired and proud all at the same time. The conversation went something like this:

Emma: “Where’s your daddy, Poppy?”

Poppy: “My daddy doesn’t live with us. He has his own house.”

Emma: “Oh right.”

And that was it. Two four-year-olds just totally nailed the issue of the breakdown of a marriage in those couple of sentences. Matter of fact and mature, unquestioning and accepting.

It’s funny the resilience Poppy can show at times – she’s lived in three different homes since she was born, four if you include her dad’s house – yet if I give her the wrong colour of spoon to eat her breakfast with or we run out of avocado, she goes ape shit.

Feeling super smug, I made them both a healthy smoothie like the super mum I am, before Emma’s nana came to collect her.

And then Poppy wiped the smile right off my face. The conversation went something like this:

Poppy: “I used to have a nana, but she died.”

Emma’s nana: “Oh that’s a shame.”

Poppy: “She got too old. She had white hair just like yours.”

Emma’s nana looked like the Grim Reaper had just entered the room. I looked at the floor, hoping it might open and swallow me right up.