Saga

For those regular readers of my blog (hello mum) you'll recall that I've had a few problems with my ear recently (I believe that's known as an understatement).

My amazing GP had me referred to a specialist ear clinic at Addenbrookes and on my first visit I was told that a) I have pretty darn good hearing (it was like a warm hug - affirmations of any kind are rare when you're a mother...); and b) I had had an infection which had caused fluid to build up. In short: you're fine, stop wasting our time. However my doctor took his job very seriously and scheduled me in for a follow up appointment just to check that the fluid was draining away.

Two weeks later the great day dawned and so the Saga of the Trip to Addenbrookes began.

My appointment was scheduled for 3.45pm and they asked me to get there half an hour early for another hearing test (and there was no way I was missing out on yet more exclamations of amazement as I passed with flying colours...) so I got Toby up early from his quiet time and we headed for the bus.

Taking a toddler on a bus is a really good way to get rid of any social inhibitions you may have.

Toby likes to ask questions. A lot. About everything. And often just a fraction louder than anyone else's conversations. So we got to talk about why 'is that man in that [wheel] chair?', and 'who that [frankly terrifying-looking] woman is' and why mummy doesn't know her name. We also discussed the relative merits of various diggers and cranes and rubbish trucks and dogs.

Half way through the journey a student got on the bus crying and gripping her stomach in obvious pain. As you can imagine, Toby was fascinated by this and watched her intently. He, most understandably, wanted to know why she was sad. But kept checking that my answer of 'she's poorly' remained unchanged every five minutes.

I think we were all relieved when we arrived at the hospital.

We escorted the poor student to A&E and then trotted off to clinic ten.

Like any wise parent of a toddler I had Come Prepared. We sat down to eat our snacks and watch some previously downloaded Bing! on the iPad. Within five minutes of arriving we were summoned for my hearing test.

This went well although I fear that my marks weren't as quite high as they could have been because Toby wanted to press the button indicating that I could hear a bleep. Even when I couldn't.

We headed back to the waiting area for more Bing!. 

Two hours and 15 minutes later we still hadn't been seen for our appointment.

Everyone else - including the receptionists - had left the clinic and the cleaner had arrived.

Somewhat miraculously I had brought a picnic supper for Toby thinking that if we were really late home we could eat it on the bus.

Imogen, a people person if ever there was one, was getting seriously disgruntled by the lack of people  to grin at.

And I was just very, very tired.

Finally a nurse came in to apologise that the clinic was 'running a bit late' (she and I both glanced around the deserted waiting area at this point) but assured me that the doctor would see me 'soon'. And, with a hollow laugh, she shuffled off [okay, so I may have added the last bit for dramatic effect, but still].

By 6pm (which, incidentally is my children's bath time) I was finally summoned into the doctor's room. She was deeply apologetic and leapt up with a torch to check my ear. Then as Imogen whimpered from exhaustion and Toby sat on a chair with a glazed expression she announced, 'Yep, that all looks good. I'm happy to discharge you. If it's still sore just chew some chewing gum.' And 30 seconds after we walked into the room, we walked out.

We struggled into our winter coats and dashed out for the bus. The terminal sign indicated that our bus was due in 15 minutes so I balanced Toby on the bench and whipped out bottle to feed Imogen. 15 minutes later our bus arrived, but we were told that it actually wasn't going where we wanted it to. Back at the terminal the sign indicated that another bus would be along in 20 minutes.

It started to rain.

After 10 minutes Toby announced, to a now full waiting area, that he needed a poo.

People began to edge away.

'What... now?' I asked weakly, fully aware that my son was newly potty-trained and when he said 'now' he very much meant 'in the next 10 seconds otherwise there will be Consequences'.

I plonked a half-fed Imogen back into her buggy, grabbed Toby's hand and, glancing at the sign which said that I had 10 minutes before my bus arrived, ran back into the hospital.

Eventually we found some toilets that weren't locked and we scurried inside.

Now before my son 'performs' he likes to feel entirely comfortable in his surroundings. And for Toby that means understanding what each and every thing inside the cubicle is. So our conversation went as follows:

'Mummy, what's that?'

'That's the emergency cord darling.'

'We must never, never pull that right?' 

'Right. Because remember that time when you did pull the cord and how the alarm went off? So we never, never pull the cord.'

'Mummy, why two toilet rolls?'

'Because... some people need a lot of loo roll.'

'Mummy, what's that?'

'That is a bin. For.... stuff. Which women use. Now are we going to concentrate and do a poo?'

[pause whilst we all concentrate and I begin to relax thinking that we will surely make the bus. Then footsteps and someone else enters the toilets...]

'Mummy, who's that?'

ARGHHHHHHHHHHH

Eventually Toby finished and we ran back to the bus terminal and discovered that we'd missed our bus. At this point I seriously began to contemplate phoning my mum who lives 30 minutes away and asking her to come and collect us.

Then the bus arrived and I nearly wept with joy. We clambered on board and sat down with some other weary looking mums and their buggies. Toby sat in silence and Imogen snored. And I just started to relax when both the other mums begin talking on their phones loudly, 'Yep no we're just on our way back from the hospital. He's got whooping cough basically...' Ah good. That highly contagious disease that I think my 4 month old baby has been vaccinated from, but am not entirely sure.

4 hours and 15 minutes after we left home, we arrived back.

Weary, possibly contagious and a WHOLE LOT grateful that a) my ear is fixed and b) I don't have to spend that amount of time in Addenbrookes on a regular basis. Which many, many parents do.

Enough said.

Happy Christmas y'all.