Tag Archive | Hospital

Naming Him

My timeline on Twitter is currently filled with lots of pregnant ladies. There are so many it feels like there is a mini baby boom going on in my Twittersphere. All are at various stages, some are even prepared with their chosen name for their little one.

It’s reminded me of when Baby Z was born and was completely nameless. We hadn’t picked anything at all and suddenly had to get a massive crack on throwing names around whilst I was hooked up to my saline and morphine drip post my Caesarian.

I was pretty much bed bound the first couple of days and, with the curtain pulled round my little cubicle, I could only hear what the other mums were up to. There was the mum who had sneezed her baby out in about 30 seconds and wanted to go home within an hour of getting onto the ward, the mum who had just had her 3rd and sounded very determined that “this was it, no more!” and the poor girl whose mother in law seemed to be rail roadjng every decision for her, including what to name her baby.

Then there was the horrible cow.

She was diagonally opposite to me and I never got to see her. But my god could I hear her….All night…long. She seemed to not require any sleep whatsoever, despite having just given birth, and prattled on and on and on on her mobile all night long to, probably, her long suffering husband. When she didn’t have the phone on her ear she was constantly asking the midwife to have a soak in the hot tub. Or to be helped out of the hot tub. Or she would be complaining she wasn’t being given enough attention and would request to go home. Then change her mind within a couple of hours. This would go on most of the night too. By night two I was going mental. I just wanted some shut eye and the horrible cow was relentless with her ability to complain all the live long night.

Anyhoo, amongst all this the hubby and I were trying to pick out the perfect name for “Infant H” as he was temporarily labelled. After going through about a hundred I came across a name that sounded so lovely and right. I looked up the meaning and then just knew it was right; “he who God remembers”…. Ahhhhhh. This was it. Baby Z.

So it was almost decided. The hubby has a much longer acceptance process than me so I knew he had to mull it over.

That evening the horrible cow was back on the phone complaining about the midwife, life, the Bounty woman who had asked her to put her phone down because she wanted some photo taking advice and basically the universe whilst I was feeding my Infant H soon to be Baby Z. Then suddenly I heard the horrible cow say something that made me freeze for a moment.

“How about we name him Baby Z?”

What??!! She was stealing my name!! I knew they’d already picked another name the day before but the horrible cow wanted my name. Our name! I was silently livid and had half a mind to try to pick my saline stand up and try to poke her from a distance. How very dare she.

Ofcourse I didn’t. I just fumed in bed and listened to her go on and on and on about how it had a lovely meaning. Yes. A meaning you stole. Stole!!

I told the hubby as soon as he arrived in whispered rage and lots of wild gesturing. He sympathised (I think) but reasoned we may never see them again so it wouldn’t matter… Hmmm.

I needn’t have worried for long. It seems the horrible cow may have had a silent long suffering husband but he still had some fight in the old dog and veto’d the name as they were all leaving to go home with their new baby. It was that day I started walking after my op and if I was any faster I would have followed them just to get a peek at her.

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Dear So and So – The Hospital Edition

Dear So and So...

Dear Slightly Dizzy Nurse

Thanks so much for making my Dads stay very comfortable. Just a suggestion though. I think you scared the hell out of him when you said he’d look like a patient from those “scary medical dramas with tubes coming out everywhere.” Actually, I was pretty speechless too and when you started gesturing for effect that thud you heard was my Dads jaw hitting the floor. You were fantastic other than that though.

Dear Very Camp Nurse
I love your shocking red hair. It definitely added some colour to an otherwise drab ward. I did feel a bit sorry for that patient though. You know, the one that thought his morphine was his buzzer to call you. I even giggled when you told him “he’s probably away with the fairies but at least he’s not in any pain!”. I think that look he gave you wasn’t drowsiness though; I think he wanted to punch you in the face. Just saying.

Dear Guy in the Car Park
Sorry. My brother and I were circulating the damn car park for ages and did that thing where you spot someone walking back to their car and start following them rather slowly (and creepily) to bag a space. I suggested to my brother I thought it would be funny, if you were to turn around and look at us, to turn off the car lights very quickly (so you’d think the car was stationary. Genius). He added it would be funnier to dive down to pretend no-one was in it. (How scary would that be if it actually happened!). We laughed hysterically at the thought of it and, when you did turn around, I didn’t think my brother would actually dive down to hide. I was slightly stunned too and then laughed like a drain. Thankfully (I think) you didn’t think we were too odd. I felt quite guilty when you then helped me squeeze my car into the tiny space. Sorry again. It had been a long week with my Dads op and it was just a way of releasing some tension.

Dear Staff, Nurse and Surgeons at Manchester Hospital
Thanks very much for fixing my Dads heart. I know you kept telling us not to worry and that heart surgery has come a long way but it’s still amazing isn’t it, what you can do inside a heart. I know I should have remembered what a Mitral Valve was from my A level Biology days but Wikipedia gave me a good read! And you do 4 ops a day? Bloody hell, you are good. I really hope the Government doesn’t mess up the NHS. For all the crap red tape and gripes, it does an amazing job. Hats off to you!