May 2nd, 2010

mononoke thingy

And to think I meant to have an early night

Today I got to walk into A&E (ER to you American types) and say

"Hello. This is my mother. And _this_ is her fingertip."

while presenting them with a small tupperware box that held several pieces of ice, as well as the aforementioned fingertip.

The day had started out a lot better than that. In memory of my paternal grapdparents(ish), (who would both have been 100, if they were still alive) their 4 sons(ish), their wives(ish), children and grandchildren all gathered together, chatted about a wide variety of subjects and had a fantastically delicious lunch.

For the week following this my parents have booked a holiday home, and we left at 6:30 to drive down to it. My parents, their dogs, and everyone's baggage were in one car. Mike (driving), Hugh, Meredith, Noah and myself were in the other. We arrived about a minute after my parents did, and were just getting suitcases out of the car when they approached from theirs - with my mum holding her hand upwards somewhat awkwardly, with a cloth over the end of it. She had, apparently, shut her finger in the car door.

Dad had the tip of the finger, so we got some ice cubes from the freezer, and abanonded Hugh, Meredith, Noah and Mike while we headed off for Bournemouth General Hospital. Mum was triaged very quickly, and x-rayed within 10 minutes of arriving. It took them another hour and a half to actually get her to a doctor, but I assume that was because they'd already decided that they weren't going to be able to reattach the fleshy bit of her little finger (which is what was chopped off - luckily not that much). However, they wanted an orthopaedic specialist to see her, because the tip of the bone was fractured, and the nearest one was at Poole hospital, 15 minutes up the road.

So we sped off to there, and spent another two hours waiting to see the specialist. Who took one look at it and decided to keep her in overnight, hopefully to be operated on first thing in the morning. They're just going to clear up the fracture and put a flap of skin over the end of it. Luckily people don't _need_ the final few mm of their little finger. It's not like my mum even uses the ctrl key that much.

On the way back my dad got hit by a speed camera (37 in a 30 zone - he's never had any points on his license at all before), and then we arrived back to find that Hugh and Meredith had sensibly locked up (Mike having left to go to a friend's stag night in Exeter), but that we didn't have any keys to get in, so we briefly considered going over the back fence before deciding to just knock on the door so that a very sleepy Meredith could let us in.

Frankly, this holiday had better be pretty fucking special. I'm only down here until Tuesday, but I hope that it's better for everyone else than the auspices indicate...
Mouse in the bath

Second verse, same as the first

Part 1

Got to sleep at 2:30am, and was awoken by the sound of rushing water, as the pipes for the bathroom clearly connect directly to the metal frame of the bed I'm sleeping in. It was about 9am, and someone was having a shower.

Dad called Bournemouth Hospital at 10:00, as instructed, to be told that the Trauma Unit didn't accept incoming phone calls until 11:00. So we had breakfast(Mmm, sausages, eggs, bacon and a waffle. There's a reason why Mike's Ex (Tamsin) used to refer to a Ducker weekend as "Meatmas".) And dad called back at 10:45, because apparently impatience runs in the family, and was told that she was going in to surgery. Which was good, as it meant we weren't going to have to pick her up and then take her back the next day.

We headed over for 3:00, as that was when she was expected to be compos mentis again (the op was going to happen under general anaesthetic). We arrived over, to discover that she was happily reading the paper and had regained all of the feeling in three fingers of her hand. However, her pulse had dropped a bit low during the operation, so they wanted to keep her under observation until it was normal, and also check that she could do a short walk, etc. We were told this would be ok by 5:30-6:00.

So we went for a walk with the dogs down on the beach, which was lovely. Quite a pretty view, other dogs about, and Tara/Uther constantly tying their leads in knots around each other. And came back to the hospital at 5:30 exactly. To discover that while she was clearly fine (Dad had a quick look at the chart - an advantage to having a doctor in the family) she would have to be examined by a junior doctor before she could be discharged, and the SHO wouldn't be around until at least 7:00. At which point Dad calmly and firmly made a fuss. Another advantage of having a Doctor in the family is that they know how the system works, and how to bend the rules to best advantage. I retreated down the corridoor to avoid getting in the way, and when I saw Dad go back into Mum's (shared) room and the nurse go into a different room I wandered back down, and could hear the nurse on the phone to the SHO saying "I have a problem, and only you can help me." :->

So, we wandered off again to get some coffee, and came back to find the SHO typing up the discharge sheet. The only problem then being that we needed Mum's dicharge meds (just some antibiotics) before would leave - and on a Sunday those are handed out by a specific senior nurse, who had 15 other people to see to on different wards.

The following hour did give me a chance to read the entirety of The Sunday Times (which fine except for anything to do with the election, which made me want to punch someone), but eventually boredom set in. We wanted to just get out and go home, especially as Meredith was making dinner for 7:30. Which, coincidentally was exactly when the nurse finally appeared, signed two bits of paper, handed some pills to mum, and we made a run (well, slow walk, Mum being a bit shaky on her feet) for the car park, and then back to the flat.

Where Meredith had baked some chicken breasts, perfectly boiled some carrots and green beans, and made a vegatarian risotto with parmesan in it. Which was delicious. We then followed it up with a game of Citadels for an hour (I had a great start and then did very badly by not capitalising on my cards well), and then bed. Where I sat with a dog on my feet and caught up with Julie for an hour.

And then wrote this. And will now go to sleep. Very happy that Mum is back in one piece - albeit with a small piece missing.