All the small things

Day 2 of Izzy being out in the open and I must be getting used to her being around and here to stay as that imaginary voiceover that automatically kicks in with the dulcet tones of Professor Robert Winston (he off The Human Body and Child of Our Time) no longer kicks in.

I may be getting used to having Izzy in our lives but I’ve still pretty much got an aversion to hospitals, I always have, all of them. I don’t know whether it’s because traditionally the times I’ve visited them have been because of others being seriously ill, the sometimes rather unfortunate colour schemes, the general clinical smell or something else. It’s always so very warm and draining, no matter how sprightly you feel when you enter there is always the feeling of your energy being sucked away from you.

During my time visiting the hospital I’ve found myself confronting three adversaries, one has been defeated but the other two are still toying with me and my sanity. They aren’t major things in isolation or in small doses but day after day, week after week it’s the little things that send you all a little bit twitchy.

CTG scan machine

With Izzy now being here the one thing we won’t miss is the Cardiotocography (CTG) scan, which is used to measure a baby’s heartbeat. It’s a rather cool device that looks where you have to set it to the ‘age’ of the baby, say 32 weeks plus one ie 32 weeks and one day. I say age but its more gestation period but that rather conjures unwanted images of chest busters from Alien.

The pipping of the machine makes it sound more like a microwave of sorts and then on the other hand the growling of Izzy’s heartbeat inside her mum, seems strange and absurd to think that she was ever in there now, sounded more akin to that of the TARDIS.

Clearly Izzy had some serious ants in her metaphorical pants as she never seemed to sit still long enough for a clear reading most of the time, although the nurses did manage to pin her down eventually. No wonder she’s so knackered now she is here as she was seemingly never still in the womb.

It was common for us to hear that the CTG had to be done again as Izzy had no set rhythm, I did wonder if this meant that she would lack the power of dance, but she didn’t mean sense of rhythm. Phew!

The Chair

With Sarah and Izzy still being in the hospital I do have one last foe to contend with, the inanimate faux leather chair, or should that be foe leather chair?

It’s almost as if they should have those spikes on them that prevent birds from landing. The seat itself is so slippery that you can’t really ever get what you would call comfy on it and always end up slouching. It’s official though, hospital chairs are the most uber- uncomfortable ever. They either send your bum numb like you’ve been injected with a tranquiliser or the arms dig into you when you slouch (don’t slouch I hear you cry, but see my previous point about slipping on that).

The Hospital Bed Curtains              

I know that the patterns on them have to be pleasing to the eye and kind of pastel dull enough so as not to offend so my beef is not with their either blocky square design or some rather fetching autumnal leaves that we seem to have at the moment. I just have a problem fighting my way through the curtains when they are closed generally.

Anyone would think that I’m staging some homage to Eric Morecambe with the difficulty I display with the curtains at times, getting proper wrapped up in them. I’ve even considered going in them with a safety line tied to me, like the mum in Poltergeist, as If I don’t make my way through I can at least always be pulled back.

Still, once we are all at home, Missy the Jack Russell has returned this evening and hopefully Sarah and Izzy tomorrow or the day after, I know I’ll look back and miss those curtains and the comforting sounds of that CTG machine that always told us that Izzy was safe and sound, even if she couldn’t always be found. I certainly won’t miss those chairs though. I’ll stick with the comfy sofa I’m typing this on if it’s all the same to you.

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