Skip to main content

My Coffee Group

My coffee group was formed 8 and a half years ago when big girl was just my baby girl.

I had gone to an NCT coffee morning as a bump and been put in touch with some other local new mums. 

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine how the friendship would develop or how that group might change my life. 

My coffee group has, and continues to be my lifeline. Seven ladies with whom I have shared life's ups and downs. Over the last 8 years there have been more babies, weddings, christenings, miscarriages, relationship breakups (and make ups), new homes, illness and bereavements but through it all we've had each other. 

As the kids have got older and gone to school we have had less time to meet up and that pesky thing called work often gets in the way too but we always make sure that every few months at least we get together for dinner or a takeaway. 

Some of us see each other more often as our kids might do a club together or we may live close to each other but we know that day or night we could pick up the phone and call each other. 

Saturday night was our annual Christmas night out. We had booked The Hertfordshire and at £45 a head it wasn't cheap. I didn't know if I was going to be out of hospital, let alone well enough to go so thought that it would probably be another night out I would miss. 

But I was at home and despite feeling tired from Winter Wonderland the day before I thought 'Sod it! Life's too short' so I got my glad rags on.  

And I'm glad I did. It was fab to catch up with them all (outside of a hospital) and it felt great to get glammed up, put some make up on and not look so ill!

The them of the night was 50's rock and roll but as I only decided on Saturday morning that I was actually going I just put in a dress that fit and covered up my Hickman line and scars. 

There was a professional photographer there and we decided that as it was a rare night for all 8 of us to be out we would get some pictures taken. And here they are...





We were told to pose and do silly faces, we're not just totally mad! Ok, actually we are but that's not the point. 

But like Cinderella I had to go home before midnight as I needed to get hooked up to my 12 hours of TPN fluids so left them there dancing the night away. 

Next year I will be back on form swigging pints, dancing on the tables, making a show of myself and begging someone, anyone to go to the country club with me. 

That's a promise!

NB x
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Light at the end of tunnel

I’m sat writing this blog post in St Marks, the specialist bowel hospital in London. So much has happened in the last few weeks; it’s all been a bit of a whirlwind. But I finally feel like there is some hope at the end of the tunnel. Let me tell you why.  At the beginning of June I was admitted yet again to QMC in Nottingham with huge amounts of pain, my bowels not working properly and just feeling generally unwell. I had only been home a couple of weeks since the admission in May but I had been feeling so rubbish most of my time had been spent in bed. I had tried everything I could to stay at home but the pain had become so bad I was barely able to stand or take a few steps on my own.  I had expected to maybe be in for a week or two to get stronger pain meds and get back on my feet but I ended up being in for almost a month. They put me on morphine injections and ketamine but then stopped them when my heart rate dropped to 30 beats per minute and my breathing to 7 breaths a minute. Th
Post a Comment
Read more

The light at the end of the tunnel is a train

Last week was a busy and pretty crappy week for me health wise. I had to go and have blood tests done with the nutrition nurses and I had two hospital appointments; one with the gallbladder surgeon in Nottingham and the other with colorectal surgeon at St Marks. I was hoping to have at least one surgery date to write in the diary following these appointments but I came home empty handed on both occasions. Here’s what happened.  I began noticing over the last few weeks that I’ve started feeling really crappy. I’m feel lucky to have been at home for the last 6 months and I have been the most well I have been for years but it felt like things had shifted slightly recently but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. But years of being sick means I know my body and I can tell when something isn’t right. I have been feeling permanently exhausted and having way more bad days than good. I’ve gone back to spending 2, 3 or more consecutive days in bed, unable to do anything but watch tv and sleep.
Post a Comment
Read more

The wrong size line

I’m on the M1 heading back to Nottingham after a road trip to St Marks to get my line repaired. But this is me, and as usual it wasn’t a smooth ride. More like a bloody shit show. So what happened? Let me tell you… After being admitted to QMC in Nottingham on Sunday with a broken Hickman line I was taken down to Interventional Radiology on Monday afternoon to get my line repaired. Firstly, I couldn’t believe it was happening so quickly and secondly I didn’t want to get too excited because, well it’s me, and usually things don’t go according to plan. And sadly I right to rein in the excitement.  When the doctor came to consent me for the procedure it was for a replacement, not a repair. I assumed he had made a mistake so I told him I was there to get my line repaired and was definitely not there for a new one. He looked at me and said “I hate to be the bearer of bad news…” and that’s a sentence that never bodes well. He then went on to say that they didn’t have any repair kits and that
1 comment
Read more