Long weekend
Yesterday I was mentioned in dispatches by NHS Blog Doctor, I was surprised, pleasantly so but then I became suspicious, after all my favourite blog doc is not known for his support of 'madwives'. My mention followed a reference to Tom Reynolds and Maternataxis, we had both blogged about ambulances and women requiring transport when in labour. I whole heartedly agree with Random Reality about the misuse of ambulances by women who are just using them as a free taxi service. If, as in my entry about the unplanned homebirth, events progress with unexpected rapidity and the stage is reached when the labouring woman is unable to move, let alone get into a car, then an ambulance and midwife should be summoned PDQ. However, all too often the ambulance service are summoned to transport a woman who really should use her own transport, whether that be in a family car, with friends or in a taxi. Amongst the comments in Tom Reynolds blog were people bemoaning the fact that haven't got their own transport, they have had months in which to arrange a suitable form of transport, being in normal labour is not an emergency, it is an elective event.
I had a phonecall from my job-share partner yesterday to tell me that she had not been at work on Friday, she had instead spent 7 hours in A & E with atrial fibrillation. In the morning she had woken up with chest pain, a superfast heartrate and difficulty breathing. Scary. After the sojourn at the hospital she was discharged with Aspirin and the promise of a follow-up to investigate the cause of her heart misbehaving. She is putting it down to a late cup of coffee with me and stress at work, is this her way of saying I cause heartache?
On Friday I babysat Izzy so Daughter could take Jack to the zoo and give him one-to-one time, I was confident all would go smoothly, wrong! It all started off really well, Nanny and Izzy went and did the supermarket shop together and Izzy fell asleep on the way home, unfortunately she woke as soon as we got indoors and that's when the fun started. She was a hungry little girl so Nanny warmed up the bottle, pointless exercise really as tiny tot was not having it. The offending item was pushed away and the crying commenced in earnest. This was no heartbroken sob, this was full blown anger and indignation, a latex teat, even if it was a Nuk, was no substitute for Mummy and was not going to be accepted. We called a truce, nappy-free time was declared, always a good move and cause for giggles and gurgling. Once we were friends again I gave the bottle another try with the same result, I admitted defeat and just spent the rest of the day jiggling around until Daughter arrived home and I could pass Izzy to her favourite milk provider. This week I'm going to buy a new Tommee Tippee bottle and see how that goes, we will solve the dilemma, I hope.
Amy and her parents return from Spain tonight, Hubby is picking them up from the airport but I can't go because all of us, plus their luggage and SIL's golf clubs, won't fit. I'm gutted because I haven't seen for what seems like ages, actually it's a week, and I'm working tomorrow so it will be Tuesday, when I have Amy, before I can see how much Van and Lorry have grown. Daughter has her anomaly scan (20 weeks) on Wednesday and the specialist cardiac scan on Friday, another landmark week.