I don't need days like this

Felt bloody awful when I woke up but couldn’t even have a cup of tea or a handful of painkillers. Number 2 son, P, felt under the weather too and I promptly grabbed my chance and told him he could stay off school (this means I don’t have a school run this afternoon, although I am a mean mommy because J will miss her ballet class). Daddy took the girls to nursery and the dog crossed his legs while giving me pitiful looks. Made it to the doctors on time and even found a parking space immediately.

Now you might think that apart from the crashing headache I was getting off easy, and I was.

Dr B was on fine form and looking more handsome than ever, but his good looks don’t help him extract my blood. And he needed a hell of a lot! I’m now covered in sore spots and tiny plasters. And then he sent me down the hospital to collect bottles to pee in. Two huge ones. Do other people really pee that much in twenty-four hours?

Once I’ve managed the peeing quest, we have to wait a month for the results and then I’ll have an ECG. This is all starting to sound very expensive, which is bloody typical as we gave up the health insurance last year ‘coz we couldn’t afford it.

Back with Dr B, I mention how unwell I’ve been feeling this past week. I told him I think I have a chest infection and detailed my aliments whereupon he started laughing, and asked how they related to a chest infection. As much as I enjoy making people happy I was not in the mood to be laughed at and didn’t chuckle along.

Stifling his laughter he told me to go back tomorrow to his manipulation clinic ‘coz he thinks I’ve got a neck injury (if I didn’t feel so poorly I’d be complaining about the cost). So hopefully tomorrow he’ll bend me and release some errant nerve, although the question remains: wouldn’t I have notice getting the injury?

Regardless of these irritations, the day was bearable until the phone rang an hour ago. It was R’s teacher and the first thing he said was “Don’t panic.”

Why do people say this? The simple fact that the teacher is calling in the middle of the day, whilst in another country with my son, is enough to tell me they have a problem, and his words really mean, things haven’t yet got as bad as they might.

The teacher explained they were riding in a forest, and R was having some sort of allergic reaction to the horses. At this point I assumed things really aren’t so bad because R does sometimes have mild reactions to things and I suggested washing R’s hands and eyes and giving him some Piritin.

Then they put R on the phone.

I thought he was crying and told him to take a deep breath and tell me what’s happening. Several gasps later he says he can’t breathe and hands the phone back to his teacher. As calmly as I could, I explained that this is not a normal reaction for R and suggested they get him out of the forest and away from the horses as quickly as possible.

They’ve just called back. An ambulance is taking R to hospital as I write this.