Saturday, 8 October 2011

The week from hell…

The week from hell…

It started Tuesday night, Alex came in from rugby training, white as a sheet and in agonising pain…I hear the noise from out side and run out, something wasn’t right, but I put it down to the fact he was severely dehydrated, had done far too much, and I have been going through some very hard things on a personal level the last month or so, so I thought the stress and physically over doing it, had just all been too much,  I was convinced if I could get some fluids into him he would be OK. But the night passed with neither of us sleeping, me nursing him through his incoherent mumbles and cries of pain. First thing that morning, I ring the doctor, he’s on his way round.  I am reassured after, it appears he has done too much, the doctor knows well our situation too and thought the stress may have got to him as well, hence combined with doing too much, he had  severe bronchitis, but the antibiotics and anti-vomittting tablets would sort him out. The day trails on, I manage to leave him a while in the afternoon to give him some peace, and take the kids outfor a nature walk. He just lies there, turns and rocks and tosses about in bed, I cannot get him to keep anything down, so the next morning I am at the doctors  again, ‘it’s not right, how he is, I’ve never seen him like this.’ I tell him.

The dr changes the antibiotics and I leave feeling mildly reassured. But the pain and the vomiting continues, and I rush him to A and E where the firemen stretcher him into the unit. I wait 3 hours, colouring in fish with crayons, checking the clock regularly, why is every one who came after us now leaving? I numbly colour in fish, crying, knowing something’s not right. I tell Esmie it’ll all be alright, daddy’s poory and that’s why we are waiting, ‘yes, my angel' I cup her angelic little innocent face, ‘he will ‘be better’ but I don’t know when’ I answer her question. But the 5 minute intervals in which i regard the slowly ticking clock, have been my most painful, numb, confused, alone and slowly passing moments I have ever experienced. I continue to wait.

The scan has shown a blood clot on his brain, he is taken to intensive care. The doctor calls me into a room to explain this to me.

I can see you quickly, children are not normally permitted. But under the circumstances, we follow. Esmie and I, me cuddling my tears into her warm body, being carried by me.

As the tears roll uncontrollably down my face I try and stroke you to reassure you that it’ll all be alright…only here, I have no idea, I am so confused. The evening visit passes similarly, you lie there, I stroke your hurting head.

Everyone’s prayers and thoughts and emails and help and messages have been of great comfort to me over the past few days and I wanted here, to thank you all. I tell Alex, I remember all the messages and tell him almost the whole world is fighting for us! In our corner, we have quite a  brigade it seems, and I cannot tell you how much this means, and how touched I am. As is he.

Today Alex is moved out of Intensive Care, and into the neurology department they rescan him and the results show there is no change. He will be under constant surveillance, and next Thursday have another scan, he will be home Friday if the scan shows the clot has started to be reabsorbed. The doctor tells me you're not out of the woods, but the fact there’s no change is good.

For you  my angel, for the kids I am being strong, well, I am trying to be strong. But I miss you so very much, the valley of emptiness that fills me when everyone’s in bed is insurmountable. I just need you here.

You know you and the kids are my everything, and I am trying too, to stay positive, but the trying is hard, because I have some moments, when I find I am wandering, aimlessly looking at things in the supermarket, not knowing why I am here, I want to allowed to be all day and night by your side.

You ate a yoghurt tonight! Your first bit of food to pass your lips in 4 whole days. I broke down.

Honey, you’re SO very, very strong and so INCREDIBLY capable, I know you’re coming home, you have to. You just have to. You are so strong, so determined, you have the heart and the spirit of a lion, and you WILL pull through.

I love you, and I will be back tomorrow. Everyone’s thinking of us and praying hard. Their protection is strong and I will see you in the morning, before permitted ‘visiting’ hours, because I do not care!

Thank you every one from the bottom of our hearts for your support. I will try (at 2.30am) to get a bit of rest/hopefully sleep now.

Good night my honey, I miss you.


Thursday, 6 October 2011

A post to Alex...

As I sit drinking cold soup, laundry piled high unfolded, kids in bed, their innocent heads sleep, I write through red, tear filled eyes. All I can think of is you. The ‘Visiting hours’ are over, I have had to come home. But my heart is yours, my soul and my life are there with you. Lying there. Not sleeping, you can’t, your head hurts too much, you are too confused. I go to stroke your chest, the heart monitor’s intrusive  pads prevent me, your hands I cannot hold, the drips are in the strong hands that have carried both me and the kids for so many years. I tell you ‘it’s gonna be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be out soon’ but as I say the words my tears roll onto your face.

My ‘knight in shining armour', my soul mate, my ‘The one’…you lie there not knowing where to place yourself, tossing and turning in agonising pain.

Pacing the house is all I can do, I cannot think, I can only move. I just want to be next to you, holding you, caressing your head, loving you.

I am writing this now as I need to get this pain out somewhere, words are my aid, writing remains my comfort. But I just miss you.

I have never seen you like this, you’re always my strength, my confidant, my mentor, my advisor. Am I strong enough to do this now? Be ‘the strong one’ without you by my side, I don’t know.

It seems surreal, my head feels like it’s been taken from me, people speak to me and I can only say words, I’m numb, crippled with anxiety, the dread and fear pierce my heart.

Everyone sees us, comments on how healthy and happy we all look, how blessed our life is (and it really is). They do not see us beyond our doors when they close. No one has truly seen what you are, who you are, how you have been for me, what you do endlessly for me. No one sees the load you bear on your shoulders desperately trying to provide for me and our kids. Through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, through richness and through poorness we carry each other, our unit growing stronger with every breath we take, together. I have never known anyone like you, that’s why I cannot be without you. Your never waning strength in guarding the weight that bears heavily on your mind and shoulders as you by yourself, provide for us.

I doubt I shall sleep tonight, I shall carry on writing and pacing. Carry on hoping, praying and missing you.

May God’s strength be with you, that you come home to me, the kids, our life, to our bed. I daren’t sleep with you not there, it’s not the same bed, I am not in your arms tonight. I don’t know when I next will be. That’s what I am fighting to deal with.

Tomorrow morning I am coming to see you again. They tell me they should know more, whether they will have to operate or not. But they’re not allowing you any fluids, just in case. So I don’t know what to think. I am confused and without you, so very, very alone.

If God is listening to me he will hear my cries, my agony, he will see the depth of my pain, my loneliness, and how sacred I truly am. And if he is listening, may he offer you his strength, guard you and keep you, make you strong and well again.

We have been through so much, and yes, sometimes, we argue, but not much, especially all factors in our life that are unspoken or obvious, considered. We have grown together through honesty, communication, love, respect and belief. I feel numb without you, Alex, because you truly are my heart and soul.

Because you fulfil me, you guide me, help me, counsel me, test me in good ways and through your never diminishing everlasting love and belief in me, I am me.

I want to be there, I want to be in your arms, I miss you.

Quick Pic...flash back

Add caption
As my last baby is 3-years-old now, I have to put up old pictures of when they were babies...(until my husband comes round...) So, can you guess the baby?

OK, I'll tell you, it's a baby 2 month old Lola. Worra cutie!

Have a great day all,

Tamsyn x

Wednesday, 5 October 2011

One dangling off my ears, flapping around in the wind...

Well, by the beard of Zeus, where do I start today? I doubt I’ll not be able to include it all without you crying tears of dismay and boredom, so I’ll try and keep this brief…for your sake.

It seems Posh, with my TLC and Beaks by her side is slowly making a slight recovery, she’s lost the use of her legs all of a sudden, she was fine one day, and the next, couldn’t walk. Now she takes great delight in displaying to me her latest abilities, she can stand up for a few seconds, and manges to drag herself around the garden. She wags her tail when she sees me, it’s the truth man! She is my new 5th child, and for the minute that nurturing babies void is filled…for the moment! So anyway, that’s Posh and Beak’s daily saga recounted. Although Beaks has been a little speedy and stunned all day after dipping his beak in to drink my coffee. He didn’t like it, for the record. Never serve Beaks coffee, he’ll go off his head, charge around the garden quacked up to the eyeballs on caffeine and looking violated.
Sulky Esmie

It’s been mayhem here today chez us. What with one appointment/meeting, and all that entails, gone to and thus, been broken little bit by little bit by the French administrative system again, I finally have arrived at the ‘picking up kids from school’ time of day (although Esmie just goes 4 mornings) Now, after doing the end of day school run, which went as follows: stepping out bleary eyed from the car, coffee breath, kissy kissying the mummies I had not seen in the morning (you only kissy kissy the same person once a day, that’s the French rules), I limp over, carrying Esmie to collect the 3 older kids. I am limping because today, when I decided Spring cleaning the garage would be a good idea, an extremely heavy box of tools fell directly onto my ankle bone. It is swollen, red and purple, and just b****y hurts, if I’m honest. But 4 kids, successfully rounded up, I commence mummy chit chat, or more accurately mummy shit shat, as one mum has been dying to tell everyone else that her son has diarrhea again. Had we heard? Really? We reply, ‘no way?’ ‘oh nos’ are echoed as I give my latest child’s illness anecdote, Mitzi, another ear infection. Plenty more WTF were we doing having kids? banter flies around.
Chasing bubbles

I realise the time, and trying out several names before getting the right child’s name, I start to sweep sweating forehead with school broom, as I nearly crack under the effort of finally rounding up the stray kids. Herding them through the carpark (think of my poor heart) towards our car. I think twice about following through with my experiment, which went as follows: hoy the kids one-by-one at  car, to see if magic really works, and by sprinkling magic ‘flying through car doors, them landing directly in their seats, automatically strapping them in’ dust upon their heads first, silencing window between mummy driving and backseat kid noise raised automatically too, mummy is CHILL! Realising we do not live in Harry Potter land, I decide against this for health and safety reasons. And  also, as we live in real life, so we bezz home. I quickly whip on blister plasters, footie training for Monty tonight, rugby training fro Alex. Alex draws the short straw and gets the bike. 

Mitzi and Lola

To be fair, cycling down to drop Monty off balancing a small child on my head, one dangling off my ears, flapping around in the wind, another clinging on front ways like a baboon, the other on my back holding on for dear life, this did not appeal. Alex can take him there, but I’ll have to do the 8pm pick up with the girls, rugby finishes too late. He leaves to take Monty, late because we can not find the car keys. He has no choice, he takes the uninsured car (long story, but we are in the process of doing it, so no deliberate fault of our own is it not insured, although we are not using it) but he had to take it. 10 minutes later he’s back flying through the door like he is chasing himself bellowing something about ‘nearly got stopped for speeding in the uninsured car by the same police that pulled us over for our tyres on the other car' (which will be replaced tomorrow I have to add) 'I think I out drove them though!' (well, I think I hear this) ‘Monty’s SHIN PADS!’ ok, shin pads got, in the meantime luckily I have found the keys (40 minutes later behind a cushion down the side of the sofa (thanks Lola, she later admits to having ‘forgotten’ where she put them). They’re gone, he speedy gonzalis it out of the drive. He’s ages, and I think the police have got him again, but they didn’t! Whoo hoo! For small mercies and all that.

I do the 8pm pick up, get home and tear round, downing milk and stuffing hunks of dry bread to keep me going that bit longer-till they’re in their beds.

Esmie wants ‘mulk’ so I tell her she can get it out of the fridge, oh god, what have I done? There is a huge shriek and enormous crash, I run into the garage. The fridge door is off again, and Esmie is lying underneath it. She’s managed to pull off  the fridge’s suicidal door. Not knowing whether ‘Flat Stanley’ is a real life syndrome, I wonder, momentarily, if we could make a fortune telling our story and selling books about our ‘Flat Esmie’. Anyway, no harm done, and they’re now in bed.

I am off to rock in my favourite corner, and hangout with my duckling. What? That’s totally normal behaviour.

See you!

Tamsyn x *whirl winds it out of the room as she realises she has not yet mopped, spins too fast and falls a*s* ove t*t *

Tuesday, 4 October 2011

Tuesday Tune: Week 2!

Stevie Wonder is an ALL time favourite of mine, the kids know his songs off by heart, and Mitzi always tells me that the song 'Isn't she loveeeellleeeeeyyyyyy' is about her... My choice of tune for today is Stevie Wonder singing 'Free'...I love it, it's such an inspirational song, and he RULES!... Take a minute out and listen to some Stevie...!

See you tomorrow,

Tamsyn x

Monday, 3 October 2011

I fling open the wardrobe and grab randomly at clothes, with the intent of covering my ‘bits’ well, you never know?

I began the evening with kids in bed, sitting down, downing a large glass of water (thirsty work running kids you know…) Alex walks back in the room as I place the glass down. ‘Did you just drink from that glass?’ Oh God, here we go…it turns out he had just trapped the enlarged angry mutant hornet which had been terrorising anything and everything in our bedroom in that very same glass. I sat there for the next half hour, waiting, waiting and wondering what the side effects may be. I was a sitting scientific experiment waiting to react physiologically on some global level. After half an hour, and no, as yet, debilitating side effects, I begin to move slowly, checking myself limb by limb, reflexes, OK, mouth, throat, tongue, still capable (to the extent they ever are at any rate) so I begin to relax.
The support team!

I head off for a quick bath, come back in, sit down to write my blog. As I do so, either the same, or a different (my word they are HUGE mother f******, just for the record, and they always seem so p****d off, unnecessarily, they are the dark side, not us, little innocent humans they chose to sting with intent to KILL! KILL! KILL!). So he’s back in the bed room, I am starker’s, having just had a bath, and think quickly, if I cover my eyes, maybe he won’t see me, no, OK I am not 5-years-old anymore, so I fling open the wardrobe and grab randomly at clothes, with the intent of covering my ‘bits’ well, you never know? It seems to be dive bombing me and I flail around wildly, letting out sporadic squeals tripping over putting trousers on and freaking out hearing buzzing getting closer as I T-shirt my upper body up and thus for the few seconds I am pulling on the T-shirt I am blinded, FREAKING. It dive bombs me and lands on my head well of course I flip and slap myself on the head??? Hornets, I do not do. Wasps, mean, but small, doable, bees, pretty cute really, they’re a breed that subconsciously feel so guilty after stinging someone once, they actually die, so I hold nothing against them, but are stepping into a WHOLE different flying stinging insect level. It was a success though, I was not stung, and we used the glass again to get it out and slammed the window shut after and wrote a ‘you are not welcome hornets’ sign up on the window. They can read you know. A resounding success; and this time the glass is sterilised.

Monty in action!

Monty had a football tournament this Saturday, and my God it was hot. 33 degrees and the 1st of October. Full summer, he played like a star, made such an effort and although they did not win I blame this on the other weaker pathetic playing kids…OK, bit full on, they all ‘did their best’ and that’s what counts isn’t it? Unless you want to win…?! I cheer him on in French, not wanting to stand out too much, Alex doesn’t care and is English and vocal and loudly too…oh the shame…

Monty taking the 'offside' kick? I think that's what it's called, oh my shamefull ignorance...

Sunday we spent with a phone call at 11am a friend wanting to know if I could look after her kids this afternoon, she’d be round in 15. Ok, unprepared, but still, a friend in need and all that, so she drops them off, and 6 kids blowing bubbles in their water and having a food fight (quickly stopped as the chickens got wind of it) was not what I had had on the agenda for today. But it was in fact cut short, her hubby had arrived back early, and after 2 hours (not the original ‘oh, till about 8 this evening’) their daddy is here to pick them up. So I am free, well, 2 kids down, leaving me with 4. Homework done, we’re off to the football grounds for Alex and Monty to do a bit of training, and me to do a nature walk and 'throwing and catching' with the girls (not throwing them, I hasten to add). I am pretty rubbish at catching, something will catch my attention, I get it in the face, or I just focus SO intensely that I hold my arms out too wide like a kid and it slips right on through. My girls are great, but catching is not our forte (although Mitzi is brilliant but I don’t want to take anything away from the concentrated efforts of the other 2) Esmie, every time she catches it, and in catching, this ranges from it falling on the ground near her, and her picking it up whooping coz she has ‘caught’ it, to mini strops when she misses it and it’s the other person’s fault for throwing a rubbish throw. But all in all, it was a great afternoon.
A VERY hot, VERY thirsty Monty! Nice work son!

The weather is unbelievable at the moment, and we are making the most of it, November, it rains. It has every single year since we have been here, and I now begin to dread November here each year. It’s bloody miserable torrential rain, that seems completely unnecessary. Well, we are still in October, so I am focussing on this.

Now, I am off to check out the food I am probably burning, and sign everything for school I was supposed to sign and give back 3 weeks ago now…

See you tomorrow!

Tamsyn x *sees hornet tapping at the window, refers it to the sign, it nods dejectedly and flies off to dive bomb other naked humans*

Sunday, 2 October 2011

Thought For The Day...Week 18

Thought For The Day, today is based on environmental concerns. We ALL live on this earth, we are ALL responsible for all of our behaviours and attitudes, and this includes respecting and ‘keeping’ (tending) our planet. We can all make a few simple steps, and in so doing make a GLOBAL difference…really, it ‘starts at home’ as they say.

Here is an extract from the book I have just finished reading, which explains what I have been thinking about more and more. With 4 kids, I need to make sure I am doing the right thing, and thus providing for them an example and a role to follow:

“...Yet not all is negative. Despite the urgency of the (environmental) crisis, and the difficulty of going against our materialistic culture, there is also good news in living more simply. Sociologists and others have written of the epidemic of ‘Affluenza’ sweeping Western nations. This has been defined as ‘a painful, contagious, virally transmitted condition of overload, debt, anxiety, and waste resulting from the dogged pursuit of more’. Reducing our addiction to filling the inner void with ‘retail therapy’ or electronic games, to traveling faster and further, to earning more yet enjoying less, can only be good for us. Reconnecting with nature and our place in it, that genuine relationships give more satisfaction than inanimate or virtual ones: all these have great social, psychological and physical benefits.” Dave Bookless.

Well, something to think about this week at any rate...
Have a FAB Sunday,

See you tomorrow,

Tamsyn x