06.30 – As predicted the little guy is quite sick, so now that’s two down.
07.20 – Off to school because elder child has choir. I take the dog with me so she can have a good run in the park.
08.45 – I return to the sanatorium to find the 2 of them lying at each end of the sofa sharing a blanket. I play nurse, although the cat seems to have it all under control (she thinks that lying very close to your head when your sick will help in some way).
09.20 – I do some laundry, some pilates, & finish the wedding card I’m making, in between playing nurse. I answer a call from the hospital reminding me that I have an appointment tomorrow for a joint injection in my knee – not sure why they thought I would forget about this as they only booked it yesterday! Twenty minutes later I get another call from the hospital wanting to arrange an appointment for my joint injection – I swear it was the same woman – she was very put out when I informed her that I have one for tomorrow. She then put me on hold while she checked this, presumably in case I was completely imagining this & the phone call she had made to me earlier. Yes, I was right, she was happy I was telling the truth!
12.00 – I get ready to go back to school & receive an email from the head honcho informing me that she had taken delivery of large donation from a parent who supplies toy stores & she had sorted everything into categories. I am then desperate to get to school asap, beside myself that she will have completely &#%$ed up my system!
12.35 – I arrive at school to find her organizing some prize baskets for a separate stall & she informs me that she didn’t add the donated prizes to my system because she didn’t want to &#%$ it up – PHEW! All is right in the world again.
13.00 – I am knee deep in stuffies when the mum who looked after my table yesterday arrives to help me sort. We get to work counting the prizes & stuffies, then box them up & label them.
Various people are in & out chatting because the room we are using is where the photocopier is – it was all very sociable.
15.10 – The other mum has to leave & I pop up to the lower school to hand over a drink & snack to older child because he’s involved in an iPad workshop until 4.30pm. I happen upon him the minute I walked into the lobby, he apparently was about to call me & declare imminent death by starvation because he had eaten all his food & would be going straight to field hockey after school – honestly, total drama queen!
15.30 – Off to the dollar store again for some supplies we have run out of – rubber bands, clear gift bags etc. I am wilting so I duck into a coffee shop & order a gigantic latte to go.
16.00 – Back at school I’m on a mission. I am determined that when I leave at 4.30pm I will be done, finished, complete! Then… I find a note from the head honcho – she’s rearranged some of the balloon prizes by taking some more out of my general prize boxes – NOOOOOOOO!!!!
16.30 – Mission accomplished. I pick up elder child to find that snacks were provided at the workshop so had been no need for the amateur dramatics – he still ate my snack too of course.
16.50 – Home to change into hockey gear & back out to drop him off.
17.35 – Back at the sanatorium it is clear that the little guy will have to be off school tomorrow. Hubby is already off so he can take me to the hospital, but we can’t take a sick child with us & I really don’t think it’s fair for him to see them sticking needles in mum’s knee. I see that my neighbor is in (they are like surrogate grandparents to our boys), so I pop over to ask if there is anyway they could help out. The answer is yes – great!
18.40 – I have to go back out to pick up from hockey.
19.30 – I am in my pj’s, under my blanket fort eating chocolate & colouring!
Today I wore scrubs for the first time in about 10 years. No, I did not go back to work, that ship sailed when I was diagnosed with AS, I was actually working though, in the house. We discovered some years ago that scrubs have many uses, as does surgical equipment, but lets not go there yet. We have used old scrubs as camping pajamas, fancy dress is an obvious one, but my favourite is decorating clothes. Today I was just painting in the bathroom, but I have some amusing stories to tell of times we used them when we lived in England.
The last house we owned in the UK before we moved to Canada was an old Victorian terrace. It was an amazing house, high ceilings with picture rails, polished floor boards, tiled fire places, and the most magnificent claw foot, cast iron bath. A huge thing that I’m sure they built the house around. In fact it is that very bath that was the inspiration for the claw foot tub I write about in Bruises. When we moved into that house every room was painted white. We are not white people, we like rich period colours, so we slowly set to, working are way around the rooms stripping the white woodwork and painting the walls.
The bathroom had wood paneling from the floor to about a third of the way up the wall – painted white of course. So, I bought a heat gun & set to stripping away the thick layers of oily paint right down to the bare wood. Then it needed sanding, so more tools were purchased & we worked our way around again. It was during this project that we discovered OR hats and masks came in very handy, & as hubby is an anaesthetist it was easy to keep a constant supply. No, we were not ashamed of sponging off the NHS; there were no other perks of working crap hours for peanuts. In the UK it was then, & still is in a lot of areas now, the norm to have your milk delivered by a milkman. Then, once a week he or she would knock at the door to be paid. It never occurred to either of us what people might think if anyone saw us all togged up in our ‘decorating gear’, unfortunately for our milkman he did…
Yep! One day he called around for his weekly payment only to have the door answered by my husband wearing the full monty, scrubs, hat, mask, safety glasses, & armed with a power tool. Poor guy nearly had a heart attack, he knew what we did for a living & but I can only imagine what must have being going through his head – neurosurgery in the kitchen maybe?
When I dug to the bottom of the decorating box looking for something to wear, I pulled out my old scrubs from my paediatric intensive care days; they even have ‘staff nurse’ printed on the front. The boys were fascinated at how I looked when I used to work, & I was reminded of all those times we had used old work scrubs for various things other than work. Hubby even told the boys that this was exactly how I looked the first time he met me. I’m staggered at anyone could find someone attractive in these to honest, I swear I could fit 3 of me in here & still have room to spare! They really are the most hideous things one could ever wear – but then I suppose you don’t become a nurse to look glamorous do you?