The Mummy Diaries: Two Babies – Week 56

The Mummy Diaries: Two Babies – Week 56

by Emma Hargan
article from Tuesday 30, July, 2019

OUCH! Is the only word I can use to describe the last few days. How little kids can get their tonsils out and be running about afterwards is beyond me. I’m 37-years-old and I can safely say it’s the single most painful thing I’ve ever gone through. And I’m not quite out of the woods yet!

Yes, I have experienced two C-sections so I’m not a stranger to going into theatre but there were two huge differences between a caesarean and a tonsillectomy. The first one being ignorance is bliss. I mean, I had no idea I was getting a section done when I was having Jamie and although Lily was a planned section, I still didn’t know when I was going to be taken in. The Tonsillectomy was booked on the exact date on the exact time. Plenty of time to work myself up and Dr Google and YouTube everything you absolutely DO NOT need to know about tonsillectomies.

And the second thing?

When I was being taken in for my section, I knew I was going to have a precious wee bundle at the end of it. A beautiful wee addition to the family and memories I will keep forever. My tonsillectomy? All I had to look forward to was a mini milk lolly and trying to staying awake until 9pm so I could watch the next episode of Love Island. Woo hoo!

In my last blog, I was worrying not only about the operation but also how James and the kids were going to be. The great thing about that was it kept me super busy right up until they dropped me off at the hospital. The few days in the run up to my op, I had cleaned the house from top to bottom. Got all the washing up to date and got a big food shop in the night before I was going in, so they wouldn’t starve. In fact, I kept myself so busy that it wasn’t until 11pm the night before my op when I actually sat down and had my last cup of tea and a biscuit before I would have to start fasting.

The morning of my op and I didn’t have to wait for the alarm to go off and for the first time ever – I was awake before the kids. I had to be up at the hospital for 11am so it was a case of keeping busy and avoiding the coffee pot for a couple of hours. I spent ages in the shower, washing my hair, taking my time getting dressed and getting myself ready. Under ‘normal’ circumstances this would have been a real treat but it’s not as much fun when all I was feeling was a stone in my stomach and thinking up ways of escaping out of the bedroom window without getting caught! With an hour still to go before we left, I decided I would make James and the kids their dinner in the slow cooker and then at least James wouldn’t have to worry about sorting the meal out later on.

“Okay time to go!” James says while lifting my bag to the front door.

“Oh not yet, I haven’t made the kids their lunches.” I replied.

“Jes Emma, I think I can manage making a sandwich or two.” James says while rolling his eyes and knowing rightly I was stalling. Damn!

The car journey in to the hospital felt like 10 minutes when in reality was more like an hour. I was super-anxious and didn’t realise that I had verbal diarrhoea the whole way until James actually told me that I was answering my own questions! This probably made it seem quicker and by the time we got to the car park I was saying my goodbyes to Jamie and Lily while trying not to sob my heart out. The kids with eyes like saucers wondering what the hell was going on and looking at James as if to say, “Is Mummy on crack?”

While walking into reception I thought to myself, ‘Right, man up for fox ache. You’re only getting your tonsils whipped out, it’s not an execution.’ Oh. My. God.

I arrived at the admissions desk where I was greeted by a lovely lady who put me at ease straight away. By the time I had filled out the piles of paperwork, gave my emergency contact details and signed my life away, I hadn’t realised I had already been in for an hour. Hospitals are a bit like airports that way. I always feel like I’ve got loads of time but in reality, by the time, you get everything sorted, it’s time to go. The lady then lifted my bag. “I’ll show you to your room now.” she said. 

All the hospitals I had been in before you had to walk through the dodgy sliding doors that lead to a reception desk with safety glass so high you had to lip read what the staff said while trying to avoid the ‘Our staff will not tolerate abuse’ sign. The horrendous metal chairs that are bolted to the floor. No coffee table, only a plastic shelf on the wall which probably contained lots of information leaflets at some point but all is left now is a leaflet hanging off a chair about preventing the spread of MRSA with a handwritten scribble across the front of it which states, ‘I LOVE DAVE!’

Now I know this place is a private hospital but, in all honesty, it was more like a hotel rather than a hospital. For starters, the waiting area was lovely comfy leather seats with a fish tank, a TV and a coffee table loaded with all the up-to-date magazines. The lady walked me through the corridors until we reached my room. It was a lot bigger than I expected, with a bed and two decent-sized armchairs and an en-suite toilet with a shower. I also had a TV and phone if I wanted to and the lady showed me the menu to choose my breakfast and lunch tomorrow as the staff would be round shortly to take my order. 

“Ok, I’ll leave you to get settled and the nurse will be in shortly to speak to you. Do you have any questions?” she asked.

A menu? An en-suite? 

“Er, no I don’t think so,” I replied.

This was weird. Nothing like the cattle farms they call hospitals we’re all used to, but I guess when you’re paying for it, they need to up the service. It definitely made me more relaxed knowing I was going to be coming back into my own room after the op. 

I didn’t have much time to hang about, when the nurse came in and went through the whole procedure with me. She handed me the gown (private or not, they’re still not attractive!), a surgeon’s hat and robe to get into. No sooner had I got changed, and the surgeon was in to see me and he went through everything with me again. Just to make sure I was properly freaked out. 

“There is one in now and then you are next.” He said.

GULP! Okay, keep busy! Facebook, Instagram and then…

“Okay Mrs Hargan, if you would like to pop up on the bed and we’ll take you down to theatre now.”

I can honestly tell you I was bricking it. I just kept thinking, no more tonsillitis after this. Just hold it together. You’re nearly there. 

“Hello Emma, my name is Dr Low and I’ll be doing the anaesthesia today… BLAH BLAH BLAH…’

My mind was starting to wander and freak out while looking around the sterile room with all the medical instruments and equipment. I could feel a tear running down my face.

“So, what we’ll do….. Are you ok?” he asks me.

“Aw I’m so sorry just ignore me, I’m so nervous!” I sobbed. What a tube.

“Just lie back here for me Emma and hold this on your face. Can you start counting to 10?” Dr Low says.

“Okay. One.” Oh my God I’m going to die.

“Two.” How many people need to be in this room?

“Three.” Aw that’s better now they’ve dimmed the lights.

“Four.” I hope they have ITV 2 so I can watch Love Island tonight.

“Five” I wonder……

(Lights out)

“Emma. Emma. Wakey wakey. You’re in recovery now Emma.”

I open my eyes and it’s so bright. A couple of smiley nurses are looking down on me. 

“How you feeling Emma? The op went very well.” The nurse said.

“Err.. Oh that’s sore.” I replied.

After spending a while in the recovery and managing to swallow a few sips of water, I got wheeled back to my room where another nurse was waiting for me. 

The short story? Well there’s not much to say other than its pretty much agony. They can’t give you pain relief until you have eaten something so I had to force down a couple of slices of toast and a cup of tea. This felt like eating glass and drinking acid but I knew that I would get the painkillers if I could get something into my stomach. The rest of the night was spent nodding on and off, drinking as much water as possible and taking the medication routinely to help with the pain. Oh and just about managing to watch Love Island before passing out! 

The following morning and although my throat was very sore, I wasn’t feeling so groggy with the anaesthetic. The consultant was around early to check on me and said the op went very well and he was happy to discharge me later that morning. I couldn’t really speak so I text James to let him know the news and when to come and lift me from the hospital.

I was so anxious to see James and the kids. I couldn’t care less what shape the house was in as long as they all had a good night and managed to get their dinner and breakfast sorted.

James texted to say they were waiting for me in the car park whenever I was ready. I signed the discharge papers and got my pain medication sorted and headed out to see my wee monkeys! Oh and two wee smiley faces peering out at me when I got to the car! They were all excited but I can definitely say I was loads happier to see James and the kids!

On the way home, Jamie was frantically trying to get me chatting by telling me stories and laughing. The poor wee soul couldn’t understand why I wasn’t chatting away. James was telling me what they had for breakfast and I have to say that I was actually impressed with what they were both wearing. Usually James will find the only God-awful outfit they have and mismatch everything up and tuck their trousers into their socks. Nope, not today. Lily was dressed in a gorgeous wee summer dress and Jamie was in shorts and t-shirt, all matching. Impressed.

I walked into the house and I couldn’t believe my eyes. All the toys had been put into the toy box. The kitchen table was clear and clean. Not a dish in sight. Dishwasher on, washing machine on and clothes out on the washing line.

And in enters the one and only Barry Poppins!

“Wow, I have to say James I’m impressed!” I exclaimed. “I didn’t even think you knew how to work the washing machine!”

“Ah that!” he says. “It’s easy!”

Mmm, okay, I thought and through gritted teeth gave him a hug. Glad to be home.

I went upstairs, got changed into my pyjamas and got into bed. I woke up and looked at my alarm clock. It was 6.30pm! I quickly got downstairs to get the kids dinner on and there they all were in the kitchen, already tucking into fish fingers, beans and waffle. 

“Your dinner’s there,” James says, “I didn’t want to wake you. How are you feeling?”

Other than shock, “Erm, a bit sore.” I said.

“Okay, take your dinner upstairs and I’ll be up in a bit with your tablets and a cup of tea”, James says.

I turned and walked back upstairs with my mouth gaping and in total shock. Well, I wasn’t going to say no to that!

The following morning and Barry Poppins was up early with the kids and left me to have a lie-in. He appeared with a cup of tea and said he was going to put a washing on and the kids were fine so to just take it easy. I was used to aliens kidnapping Jamie every now and again but I have to say, whatever the aliens had done to my husband, I was quite happy!

That evening, I woke up from a nap feeling a lot better. I jumped into the shower and went downstairs to find James, Jamie and Lily playing Lego on the floor. 

“Pee pee!” Jamie shouts.

“I’ll get him”, James says.

“No it’s ok, I’ll manage”, I replied.

As I’m walking Jamie through to the toilet, I was thinking to myself, all that worry about leaving James and the kids to themselves – I had been totally freaking out over nothing. James has turned into Barry Poppins overnight. This is great. At that moment, I pulled Jamie’s trousers and pants down and he’d had a wee accident.

“Pished!” Jamie says!

“What??!! Don’t ever say that Jamie, it’s pee pee!!! Where did you hear…”



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