In my dreams!! But AMAZING NEWS ….. Heir Raising has been Shortlisted for a Brilliance in Blogging Award! Please click on badge and vote to get me into the Finals …
There are some outstanding blogs so it’s a real honour to be in Reader’s Choice next to such talent. I’ve been out of range near Hambledon Hill, a 600 ft high prehistoric hill fort in Dorset and wasn’t able to post for a few days as the Neothites or whatever they were called then, never built what would frankly have been a very useful mobile phone mast. Tsk tsk.
So thank you so VERY MUCH if you voted for me.
I wanted to enter in 2015 but it’s been a bloody hard year.
A year ago today, my husband underwent major heart surgery, and I was waiting ‘phone in hand to hear from the hospital how it had gone. A friend, Charlotte, was keeping me company when the call came.
Everything froze as I waited for the meaning of the NHS surgeon’s words to sink in:
“D has just come out of the operation and it seems to have gone very well”
The next thing I heard was Charlotte popping a champagne cork as tears ran down my cheeks.
He was discharged just six days later – not enough beds. If you’ve ever been primary carer for anyone, you’ll know it’s one of the most difficult jobs in the world. None of my own family live anywhere near, my steps were working abroad or for their degree, and the sort of help I needed was for a hundred everyday tasks – putting the washing on the line; checking emails and acting on school info; listening and reassuring our brave son talk about his fears and taking him to visit his Dad; spending 40 mins twice a day queuing for a parking space at the hospital; filling the freezer with home made chicken soup; running up and down the stairs with meals and drinks; taking the washing back in when it started to rain; endlessly repetitive conversations with my mother on the ‘phone; putting the bins out – I couldn’t delegate any of this. Feeling guilt about even thinking about my own needs. Feeling more guilt about how I sometimes wanted to (but didn’t), tip chicken soup into still annoying husband’s lap. Feeling guilt about wanting to run away from home.
Sleep-deprived and mind-achingly exhausted, I struggled to find the energy to look after him, our young son as well as working full time. Worrying too about my elderly and increasingly frail parents who live in another city, finding cover to visit them only to find they’d forgotten I was coming and weren’t there. At times I felt so torn between everyone’s needs, there was nothing left at the bottom of my glass, and life seemed too bleak to even think up funny cartoons let alone draw them.
BUT THE COLOUR HAS GRADUALLY STARTED TO COME BACK INTO OUR LIVES AND I AM SO …
Thankful to friends who rallied around, three especially who cycled across town with basketfuls of nutritious and beautifully prepared meals.
Thankful to the wonderful family at our son’s school who cared for him over 3 weeks in case there was a post-op emergency ambulance trip back to A&E (there was), and to enable me to make frequent trips to hospital without worrying about school runs.
Thankful to those of you who knew and sent messages of support.
Thankful to the surgeon, doctors and nurses at the JR who saved my husband’s life.
Thankful for our son who has his father back.
Thankful for my husband who has his life back.
Thankful for having learnt to be a more compassionate person.
Since the op, laughter’s got us through the last year (
as well as alcohol and some pretty rubbish prescription drugs), more than anything else. So yes, that would be brilliant if you could vote once more for Heir Raising to get us through to the Finals and for another year of cartoons, pithy articles, bad puns and some extremely silly Stand-Up comedy! Here’s the badge link again, just pop in your name and email address, scroll down to Reader’s Choice category at the bottom and tick HEIR RAISING!
Meanwhile, enjoy the wonderful weather, D certainly loves it – a year and a day ago it took him ten minutes to walk up a flight of stairs, a year later he looked out over five counties from the top of Hambledon Hill and walked on for another two hours.