More than just a bag lady

Merry Christmas everyone! I know I'm a little bit late with my seasons greetings but things have been pretty hectic here as I'm sure they have been in homes up and down the country. In my defence though the first two weeks of December were taken up with Hubby's 40th birthday preparations. Months of planning a birthday surprise came to fruition when we went away for the weekend to Derbyshire in a beautiful barn conversion and were met there by the kids and his immediate family (there were 9 adults and 6 kids in total!) Getting that many people in one place just before Christmas was bloody hard work but we all had a fantastic weekend. But then- BOOM! We came home and Christmas hit me like a steam train.  I thought I was pretty organised but not even my lists and Hubbys excel spreadsheet could prepare me for the run up to Christmas. (Yes- he really does have an excel spreadsheet listing all the presents so we know what everyones got when it's wrapped and to make sure the k

You know me. I'm not afraid to share embarrassing tales in here. Yes it lets you all have a little chuckle at my expense but it also lets others suffering with IBD know that they're not alone and that these kinds of things happen to other people too. So here goes... Before Christmas Hubby had a 'significant' birthday so I arranged a weekend away. It was us and the kids and all his family- 15 in total! I had booked a beautiful barn in the Derbyshire countryside but packing was tricky as it was a surprise and if he saw me packing then he would wonder what was going on. I  had a long list and as I packed I crossed each thing off. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself and thought that I had packed everything I needed including all my medical stuff and all the things for the kids. That was until I was getting myself ready for bed and went to put a clean Tena pad on. Bugger! One of the things that I really, really needed and I had forgotten to pack them.  It was too late

I've had a super busy 24 hours. I'm sat on the train on the way back to Nottingham after a flying visit to London via Cheshunt. I had a hospital appointment this afternoon with the pain physiotherapist at UCLH in London so I thought that I might aswell squeeze in a visit to Cheshunt to catch up with my friends. The fact that it was my birthday also meant that it was too much of an opportunity to miss.  I didn't leave Nottingham until just after 7pm yesterday because there was a meeting at the kids school about the new curriculum and the changes in the way they are assessed. What those kids are expected to know, understand and be able to regurgitate on their SATs exam papers is just ridiculous now. Big Girl is doing maths that I wasn't introduced to until secondary school and that I now have to google to refresh my memory! After the meeting I rushed home, packed an overnight bag and hooked up before getting a cab to the station. I decided to travel whilst having my TPN s

There's nothing worse than a Doctors receptionist who insists you tell her what is wrong with you. I take that back. There is. When she asks you in front of all the other patients in the waiting room.  I know most of us have experienced this and at my new surgery I loved how this old guy handled it. He must have been in his 70's and the waiting room was pretty full when he walked in. He approached the desk and the receptionist asked him what he needed to see the doctor for that day.  "There's something wrong with my dick" he told her.  The receptionist looked shocked and told him that he shouldn't say things like that in a crowded waiting room. "Why not? You asked me what was wrong and I told you" was his reply.  The receptionist became irritated and told him that he had embarrassed the other patients waiting and should have said there was something wrong with his ear or similar and then discussed the real reason with the doctor in private. The guy l

I haven't even got 2015 finished and out of the way before I'm already having to think about 2016. The joys of juggling three different hospitals and multiple consultants and clinics means I already have appointments stacking up for next year. Eleven appointments already to be precise. So I decided that I would have to bite the bullet and buy my 2016 diary. (Talking of bullets, I hear on the grapevine that Santa might be bringing me a Nutribullet and I am a tad excited about it. Sad, I know. But still, excited I am.) Normally a diary is something that Hubby would get me for my birthday and even though it's only next week I don't feel as though I can wait any longer.  Having appointments and other plans without being able to write them in a dairy is driving me mad for a few reasons.  One: if they don't get written down in the proper place then I am liable to forget about them completely. Two: I need to make sure I'm not double booking myself. Three: I'm an OC

Warning: this post covers my latest bout of diahorrea and sickness and should not be read whist eating or if you gag easily.  You've been warned.  Okay.  So don't blame me if you read on and then are put off your breakfast/lunch/dinner/snack etc  Feeling brave? Then let's do this! I have spent the last 5 days being sick, having some terrible bowel motions (and that's saying something coming from me!) and generally feeling like crap. It started on Wednesday night when I began feeling a bit, how can I describe it? Bleugh. Yuck. Crappy. That's not unusual for me anc I thought I was tired after having met a friend for lunch. But when I woke up on Thursday I knew something was brewing. My whole body ached and after taking the kids to school I came back and spent the next 6 hours on the sofa. I didn't get up for a drink or anything to eat and in the back of my mind I was beginning to worry that it was an infection brewing. All the classic signs were there- feeling cra

This morning I've come to have some blood tests done.  The main reason is because I've been suffering from the most horrid and debilitating sweats and hot flushes. It doesn't have to be warm and I don't need to be rushing about to end up coming over all hot and dripping with sweat. It's got so bad that I have to carry a flannel everywhere with me to wipe down my face. I'm panicking that I'm going through 'the change'. ( Make sure you avert your eyes and whisper this phrase. One cannot be seen to be talking about such vulgar things in public 😉)  And no, before you say anything, I'm not that old but since my operations my periods have been very erratic so maybe I'm going through it early or maybe it's as  my  doctor thinks. He says that the sweats are a side effect of my medication. But I've been having them for months now and to be honest I'm really getting fed up of them. It's embarrassing to be in a shop and suddenly start d

I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself. I managed to successfully navigate a train, a tube and another train journey with 2 kids, a super heavy weight suitcase and a couple of bags all by myself. Yes. You read that right.   All   by myself. If truth be told I was feeling slightly nervous yesterday afternoon so much so that I couldn't eat my dinner (which is very unusual for me). I'm not sure whether it was the journey or just the fact I would be back in my old home town that was making me feel a bit jittery.  I've been to London on the train on my own before and I'm certainly not one of those women that gets frightened travelling alone but doing it with the kids is a different story. For starters I'm outnumbered. There's 2 of them and only 1 of me. And I've got to look after a suitcase. A brand new suitcase might I add. Big Girl persuaded me to buy it as it was one with 4 wheels that you can push rather than pull and she said that she would help with th

Last Sunday Hubby and I took the kids to see Inside Out at the cinema.  Big Fella had been desperate to see it all summer holidays but we just never got round to it so he was really excited. As a general rule the kids don't like the cinema so we never really go. But I love do. I love it. So when I get to go, even if it is to see a kids film, I get very excited.  I didn't know much about the film other than it was about a little girl, the emotions inside her head and that it was supposed to be very good. Which it was. But the reason it's made me write a blog post is because of how apt it was to the situation that our family is finding itself in.  For those of you who haven't seen it (don't worry I won't spoil it for you) the little girls parents move house and state because of her Dad's job. CHECK. The little girl leaves behind all of the friends she has had since being tiny including her best friend. CHECK. She has to start a new school. CHECK. She doesn'

I've realised it's been well over a month since my last blog post. In terms of this blog I appear to have lost September completely! It's not as if nothing has happened in the last 6 weeks. Totally the opposite in fact!! There has been so much that I feel as though I haven't had a minute to stop and take a breath. If I haven't been madly rushing around then I've been asleep (or in pain) and just had no time to get anything written down about what's happening. Actually, that's a little bit of a lie. I have started two blog posts (both times in hospital but more details of that to come) but not had the energy, either physically, mentally or emotionally to finish them off. So I'm gonna try to give a whistle stop tour of life in my crazy world over the last month or so.  Hospital I've had 3 admissions in the last 5 weeks. The first two were because my Hickman line 'fractured' which is a medical term for split. It's a big deal because the

I feel as though I'm on an emotional rollercoaster which has been triggered in part by this latest admission. I thought I would try to summarise what's keeping me awake at night and what I'm having trouble with at the minute. I could probably write a blog post on each of these but I don't have the time and you would probably get fed up of reading them! So here goes. Listed in no particular order we start with... Differences between hospitals  I stupidly and naively thought that the techniques and practices that St Marks use and teach their TPN patients were widely adopted throughout the rest of the UK hospitals.  St Marks is the only dedicated bowel hospital in the UK and trains medical practicioners from all over the world so you would expect them to know what they're doing, right? Well obviously their ideas haven't made it up the M1. The team here at  QMC in Nottingham also think their way is right and while I'm sure it is ok, it's not the St Marks wa