Archives
This and that
Saturday was a good day, collected a trike I had 'won' on E-Bay, and used my satnav for the first time to get there, wasn't sure whether I should trust it so had also downloaded a route from the AA, but it worked really well. On the way back from my excursion I saw a little hedgehog at the side of road, alive but obviously not right, so I stopped and picked him up. No sign of injury, blood or anything, but one back leg doubled under him, plus he was really tiny, so I bought him home. Before now I have rescued hedgehogs and kept them until they are large enough to cope alone and then let them go. This one needed more than I could provide so Hubby and I took him over to St. Tiggywinkles. It's wonderful how this wildlife hospital has grown, years ago it was just a venture in an ordinary semi-detached house, now it is a training facility and much, much more. On Saturday night Jack and Izzy stayed at our house, both were a true joy to have around. I was reading Jack a bedtime story, John Burningham 'Husherbye', I thought it was slightly weird but it did the trick as half way through Jack gave me a kiss and then announced that 'Jack snuggle down now and go asleep Nanny.' Izzy accepted, reluctantly, her first bottle of EBM at 11pm, demonstrated her phenomenal regurgitation power and quite happily slept through to the morning.
Yesterday was the family meal in honour of Son's birthday, roast beef and all the trimmings, lemon meringue pie followed by the cheese-board. Jack and Amy behaved impeccably, for the first 15 minutes, then Amy decided she was bored, can't blame her really.
Spring has sprung, well at least as far as the birds are concerned. The birdsong in my garden this morning is verging on the cacophonous, a real fillip to the soul. Boy, does my soul need a little boost. I have officially transferred to the other maternity unit now. On Friday job-share and I had the meeting with our new manager and our lives, for the next four weeks, were organised. One week in the community, two weeks in the hospital, working early shifts, starting at 7.30, that's the middle of the night for me, and one weeks annual leave. At last some organisation has shown itself. Very strange at the moment though, no on-calls but, even odder, no work mobile phone. It seems too calm. no waiting for phones to ring and summon me out of my cosy environs, I might get used to this.
Two other blog entries have caught my eye over the last two days, the first is the G.P whose blog have become addicted to. When it comes to midwives, homebirths and birth units we stand on opposite sides of the pool and will never agree. However, this entry talks about Midwives and although he still gives the impression that he considers midwives an irritant, verging on adversaries, he is arguing well for an increase in funding for maternity services staff and the abolition of Patricia Hewitt. (On most other subjects he is a wonderful read). The second is an American blogger who has some very strong views about childbirth, I think Hubby would refer to her as a 'tree hugger' but she has written a blog here which cites a multitude of research about the use of epidurals in labour, excellent reading for any midwives or midwifery students needing to find research for coursework.
Looking back over my blog for the past year plus, I have been predicting the state of affairs the NHS, and maternity services in particular, have sunk to. I feel rather like the character in 'Up Pompeii', Cassandra the soothsayer, who used to roam the streets crying 'Oh yeah, oh yeah, and thrice yeah', like me her doom and gloom predictions never got her anywhere either.
Thank you Disgruntled Commuter for your tip about Notepad, makes blogging a whole lot easier,
About life
Life is full of coincidences, they happen fairly regularly to my daughters and me. I'll have an idea and then one of them will phone me with the same thought, easily explainable really, we have close relationships and spend lots of time together so our thought patterns will often follow the same track. Sometimes though a coincidence will happen which, if it has any explanation, is extremely tortured, yesterday was a good example.
It started with a phone enquiry, a funeral directors wanting a quote for some works. After taking the call I was musing about things, funerals, death, really upbeat sort of thoughts and started me thinking about Mum-in-Law. I've blogged about her before, she has a form of Alzheimers and they believe it is Lewy Bodies and has spent the last two and a half years in a specialist nursing home close to us. Last year we had to sell her bungalow, funds were running low for her care, which didn't come cheap, and of course, because she had worked all her life and bought a home, she was not entitled to any financial help from the state. Apparently, even though she could not care for herself, feed herself, was doubly incontinent, required turning every four hours because of her bed-sores and could longer communicate, or even remain awake for more than a few minutes a day, she was not ill and therefore didn't qualify for requiring 'nursing' care. Off the point here but I suppose years ago 'nursing care' would have described what she did require, total care to remain alive. Hubby always visits her twice a week, just sits next to her bed, holds her hand and chats, he had been there on Monday, as had her second husband, she had her eyes shut, drank her tea when the spout of the feeding beaker was placed on her lips, no change in her condition Anyway back to the coincidences, there I am cogitating about MIL viz a vie funerals, would she be cremated, where would it be? 'Where' seemed quite problematic, she had spent the last 29 years of her life living on the South Coast and that is where her first husband's ashes are interred, since his death she had remarried but Paddy would always remain the love of her life. Then I mentally traversed back to funeral directors and thought how it would be good to use the guys who had instigated my morbid thought processes, always nice to be able to deal with a known quantity. Last night Hubby and I were watching the documentary about Helen House, I was doing my usual, when watching programmes about really sad subjects, huge lump in my throat, lips clasped firmly together, sniffing and eyes prickling, when the phone rang, bit late but everyone knows we go to bed around midnight so had no qualms about answering it, it was the Nursing Home wanting to speak to Hubby. Even whilst he was listening to the manager his responses gave nothing away, my thought was that she had fallen out of bed or developed an infection and perhaps they were sending her to hospital. This belief was heightened when Hubby asked if he could come, would that be allowed? I was wrong, MIL had died. They had found her dead when they had gone in to turn her, no warning, nothing, we had all expected some lead up to her death, a chest infection, something, not this peaceful exit from a world she had lost touch with. Hubby went down to the home, he declined my company, he wanted time to himself, time alone with his Mum but he asked me to phone his Sister and Stepfather.
Here we are today. Hubby describes his emotion as relief, he had hated seeing his proud, intelligent, well-groomed Mother lying there in what he knows she would have called a living nightmare. It was the best way for her to go, no more suffering, no decision making about treating infections and then, perhaps, having to watch her die slowly, and who would know in how much pain and discomfort. Nothing is straight forward though, not even the death of an elderly lady. It was 'unexpected' so it is a coroners case, I suppose that means a postmortem. Whilst Hubby was there last night a Policeman came to inspect the scene, her body could not be moved until the constabulary had attended. Until we hear from the coroner we can't begin to organise the funeral so basically we are just waiting for the phone to ring, seems somehow wrong, Mum's died but we can do nothing, just carry on as usual.
So there is a real example of co-incidences, mid-morning phone call, my musings on a theme and then MIL dying. Just as an addendum though, when Hubby returned home from saying goodbye to his Mum the programme on TV was about W.H Auden, and as he sat down they started reciting 'Funeral Blues', I leave it here as my farewell.
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crépe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,
I thought that love would last forever: 'I was wrong'
The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Here we go again
What a roller-coaster this week is.
The postmortem on MIL was on Thursday and the cause of death was myocardial ischaemia, her heart stopped. We are holding the funeral next Friday at the local crematorium and Hubby is busy making all the arrangements. The funeral directors asked what music he would like, that sent Hubby into a spin as he initially only thought along religious lines and since his Mother came from a Jewish family, then converted to Catholicism and finally became agnostic he was in a quandary. Then he hit upon Glenn Miller, 'Moonlight Serenade' and 'In the Mood', apparently they were the music she did her courting to, so the service will commence with 'Moonlight Serenade', fairly sombre, and then as the service ends and, if you believe in an afterlife she goes off to be reunited with her first love, 'In the Mood' will cheekily peal out around the crem, then it's all back to our place for food and drink, Mum loved entertaining people and this will be her farewell party.
Friday had been the day when Hubby and I went up see 'The Sound of Music' and then spend the weekend in London. Of course that's had to go on hold but I do believe someone is smiling on us because we were able to change the booking with no hassle as Connie Fisher is not appearing at present, and the theatre are allowing patrons to change bookings for when she returns. We now go in May.
I started in my new patch this week, everything is so different, some good, some bad. My clinics should run more to time as I won't be taking bloods, no forms and bottles to complete also think my mileage is going to be less but the paperwork is even more horrendous, the NHS really does like, and encourage, repetition of tasks.
A few weeks ago I suggested that I might have some good news, well here it is -
Yes, that is two babies! When I mentioned 'good news' before I knew that Amy's Mummy was pregnant but we didn't want to 'count chickens' so I waited until she had her nuchal scan to talk about it. Thursday was scan-day so we were all waiting to hear from her how it had gone, the last thing we expected was the news that she has twins nestling in there, added to that the information that they are identical and we are all still in a state of shock. I know that whenever I hear that someone is expecting twins I am full of congratulations but to be honest I am so worried that I am not really considering it a blessing at the moment. If you read the report from Fetal Medicine you would be apprehensive as well, they certainly don't pull their punches, ' I have explained the possible implications of a monochorionic diamniotic (MC/DC) twin pregnancy, including the risk for twin to twin transfusion syndrome (30% of such pregnancies) and severe twin to twin transfusion syndrome (50% of such cases) which might require prenatal intervention. We have also discussed the increased risk of severe preterm delivery before 33 weeks (10%),' and it continues, really cheery stuff. Now I could feel inclined to look on the positive side, which I am trying to do, if it were not for the sad fact that my Sister lost twins due to twin to twin transfusion. It is something which I still remember vividly, and so does my daughter, so we are both extremely cautious about celebrating the two little babies growing inside her. Throwing caution to the wind though, twins, gosh that has got to be hard for the first year or so, add a 2-year old to the equation and life looks as if it could be pretty much all work and no play. They will have to buy a new car, one that will accommodate 3 car seats in the back, and the baby that was going to be much cheaper than the first looks as if it will now end up costing as much, and more. Then there's the identical twins part of it, Daughter has expressed concerns about knowing which is which, Hubby has suggested tattooing them, I favour keeping their ID bracelets on them, other Daughter thinks indelible ink is the answer. The next few months will be a time of high anxiety, numerous scans and multiple hospital visits but hopefully, sometime in August, I will meet my 4th and 5th Grandchildren.
Calm down, calm down
I have reached a state of mind where I just would like to be able to press a pause button and allow myself some 'down time', everyone else can carry on but I would be in a state of suspended animation. In comparison to a large section of society I know that I have an easy life. I live in a pleasant market town, I have a stable home life, a job, and a loving family but the last 6 weeks have thrown so many stresses at me that I have got myself well and truly out of my personal coping area, one more thing and I feel that something will have to give. Izzy was born, that event was wonderful but it is quite difficult being with, let alone caring for, your daughter when she's giving birth, then the rapid work move was imposed upon me, I damaged my coccyx, had the cold bug, which left me with an irritating cough, started my new job, MIL died, Daughter found out she was having twins, the caterers for the funeral let us down, and then, to put the icing on the cake, Hubby's family decided last night that they are all staying at our house after the funeral on Friday, plus we are still owed £30,000. Basically I'm just really tired and can't see an end to it.
Crikey, I've just re-read that massive whine, talk about feeling sorry for yourself, I think a Bacardi is called for. Come on, be positive. I've lost, well misplaced really, my ID tag, Amy took a shine to it and I can now only find the holder, but that's good 'cos I hated the photo, the family tell me I look like Harry Potter on it, so now I can have a new one. My super special memory foam seat pad, with the cut away for my coccyx has arrived, so I will be more comfortable in the car. Amy's house is 'under offer', they put it on the market 2 weeks ago, before the news about the twins, so it is really fortuitous that it may be sold, even if they haven't found anywhere to buy, we've told them that they are welcome to stay here if they find themselves in limbo. The weather has been glorious, and it looks as if it will be fine for the funeral on Friday, it can't lift the spirits but at least it won't make the day worse plus,it would be good if 30 people were not traipsing mud through my house. How selfish is that?
Diatribe
He has done it again. There I am, being a happy little sage-femme, the French term for midwife meaning wise woman, and up pops my favourite G.P with one of his regular anti-midwife blog entries. He really, really has a problem with midwives, or madwives as he so humorously refers to us. If his 'evidence' against the midwifery profession were based on fact I could swallow it, I would have to, but what he appears to do is pull statistics regarding maternity services and lay them out as only pertaining to midwives, and they are not, they include obstetricians and even, shock horror, G.P's. Yes, we are all human and therefore all, whether we like it or not, fallible.
MIL's funeral yesterday, lovely service, the Minister did her proud. Hubby stood up and did a short tribute to her, I cried, not because of MIL (sounds mean but we had a difficult relationship) but I cried for Hubby as his Mum, who he loved dearly, has died. The food, supplied by M & S was fantastic and abundant. I contributed a Pavlova which was requested by my off-spring as MIL always made this dessert when we went visiting, apparently it was good, I was too late to try any. All the in-laws stayed over, including the child from hell, I have rounded up all the stray beans from where he split my bean-bag, repaired the mechanism on the reclining chair and replaced the shower curtain he tore. My nephew, the wild-child off-spring of an educational psychologist, and the grandchild of a Head of Education and a primary school teacher.
Poor little Jack is proper poorly at the moment, he has a raging temperature and is a very subdued little boy. Tepid baths and regular Calpol/Calprofen are the order of the day. Amy is just reaching that entertaining stage when they come out with little phrases that send me off into peals of laughter. Today we were treated to 'Wow, delicious' as she ate her lunch of ham and cheese and later, when I suggested I change her dirty nappy an extremely polite, and serious, 'No thank you Nanny'.
Thank you to all who have expressed condolences (for MIL) and congratulations (for twin-bearing daughter) I'm sorry that I havn't got round to responding individually.
Gulp
Amy has just caused me to age by at least 5 years and allowed me to experience an adrenaline rush like none I have experienced in a long time, possibly since my son, then aged 3, nearly drowned in a swimming pool on holiday. Anyway, back to this morning. There we were, in my bedroom. I was sorting out the washing and she was toddling around being Amy, picking up the phone, playing with Hubby's mandolin, putting anything she could find in the bin, when she started heaving. Now Jack has had a nasty bug the last few days, very high temperature and during Mothering Sunday lunch, vomiting. Amy has now developed this virus so my first assumption was that she was about to be sick. I quickly carried her into the babies room where there are the change bowl and numerous towelling nappies, didn't fancy stomach contents in my bedroom and it was then that I realised that there was something strange, she was choking and heaving, I could see nothing in her mouth and couldn't think of anything in my room that would get stuck in her throat. Ideas about what could be making her do this were flying at warp speed through my brain, especially since my judgement was clouded by her currently having an aggressive bug. Nothing to lose I flung her over my arm and whacked her back, and out flew a one pence piece. Panic over. The whole episode probably lasted about 90 seconds but the absolute fear produced in that time had me shaking for a good 15 minutes. Madam was fine immediately, she even had the cheek to try and reclaim the coin. Chalk that one up to experience, I have always believed that anything up to a 2p was fine for them to swallow, it's obviously not true.
My orientation at work is continuing, I could get to like this. It is rather like being a student again, no decision making, no driving, not really having to exercise 'responsibility' at all. Covered a clinic, all fairly routine, loads of information giving, perineal massage featured quite heavily as most of the women were around 34 weeks pregnant, and for one poor woman who had attended A&E over the weekend because it 'felt as if something was falling out' and had been told it was a prolapse, a quick reminder about pelvic floor exercises. The doc, a gynae SHO, who saw her in A&E just told her his diagnosis, did not give her any advice, did not seek an opinion from a superior and did not think that she may need to be seen in the clinic, as a result she was terrified about what may happen. Well done to that doctor, I look forward to meeting him.
Stimulating childbirth
I just found this article in The Independant about birth, and in particular how some women find it an orgasmic experience. I have heard this on extremely rare occasions, perhaps more women do find it an erotic experience and just haven't felt able to disclose that aspect of birth to me. I have suggested nipple stimutaion to women as a way to induce labour and also to improve flagging contractions but I have shied away from performing that act for them, suggesting instead that their partners help them out whilst I am out of the room! Here I am obviously imprinting my inate coyness on couples as I know that I could never allow my other half to do that whilst some person observed, or was even in the room. Anyway, it would be pointless as I wouldn't relax enough for it to be of any use in stimulating the release of oxytocin, supposing someone came in to the room. To my mind, if it were going to work, it would be in the home environment that it would be most effective as, generally, women are more relaxed and receptive in their own homes. The article certainly gave me food for thought but I shall not be extending my practice to provide this service for labouring women but I shall think harder about how to suggest it without sounding too tree-huggy.