Skip to main content

Christmas Day

What a day! I woke up early to disconnect from my feed as I didn't want to have to lug the rucksack about with me on Christmas morning. So by 6.50am I was sat in bed waiting for the kids to wake up. There was no sign of them getting up by 7.15am; I think they were tired from the late nights that they've been having. But at 7.30am I heard Big Fella get up and plod along the hallway to the loo. He came into our bedroom all sleepy eyed and asking us what time it was (we had expected the kids to be super excited and so we told them that they couldn't get up before 7am). 

He was surprised to realise he had over slept and was suddenly wide awake jumping on the bed screaming that it was Christmas Day. He went off to wake his sister up and then they went to wake up their grandparents (who had also been lying in bed waiting for them to wake up but pretended to be asleep so that they could be woken up)

After everyone had been to the loo we went down the stairs, in our traditional way of youngest to oldest, and then into the lounge. Even in the dark the kids could see all the presents and they started to scream with excitement. And so began 2.5 hours of present opening. And that was just the kids! 


We had to take a break so that we could grab a bit of breakfast before going to church (although Big Fella had chomped his way through a tube of fruit pastilles so wasn't too hungry!) After church we went back to Mum and Dad's and the kids were excited to start playing with their toys. My sister and her husband had come round so we exchanged more presents. Then my brother in law was whisked away by Big Fella to play on his new X-box game and my sister and I played The Game of Life with Big Girl. I glanced up at Hubby and we were both just grinning; we were both so happy to be able to spend the day surrounded by family and not have a care in the world for a change. 



My sister and her Hubby left around 1pm as they were having lunch at his parents. Mum was starting to get stressed as it was nearly time to start dishing up and I could hear her and Dad in the kitchen having a heated exchange over which dish to put the roast potatoes in. I smiled to myself because everything was just right. Mum and Dad bickering was as much part of Christmas as presents and turkey and they didn't mean anything by it. I know some families can have blazing rows at Christmas, fueled by too much Christmas cheer but luckily nothing like that's ever happened and by the time we sat down to dinner the roast potato dish fiasco was forgotten. 

I had not been looking forward to Christmas dinner to be honest. With my bowel disease very active I'm still living on a diet of rice, cheese, custard and fudge. And none of those items make a Christmas dinner. So the plan was for me to have cheese for starter, rice for main and custard for dessert. It wasn't ideal but I kept reminding myself that I could be eating those things in hospital so the fact that I was eating them at home, sat at the table with all my favourite people more than made up for it. My Mum even tried to make my rice look a bit festive-


My grandparents should have joined us for lunch but my grandma didn't feel too well so they didn't come. We decided that after dinner we would go round to give them their gifts and take them a dinner. We spent around an hour with them; the kids took some of their new toys to show them and I think Grandad enjoyed the company. On the way home my Dad picked his mum up from his sisters and she came and had a few hours with us. She played with the kids and then we all settled down to watch the Strictly Come Dancing Christmas special. We hadn't even had any dessert but now it was dinner time so Mum and Dad put a bit of a spread out for people to pick at. 

I was really starting to flag at this point and the excitement of the day and the unexpected running around to my grandparents house had taken it out of me. I needed to connect up to my feed and I ushered the kids upstairs to get their pajamas on as they were getting tired too. 

At 9pm I settled down with Big Girl to read a chapter of Bob No Ordinary Cat and Hubby read Harry Potter with Big Fella. Then it was bedtime for the kids and the grown ups sat to down to watch the end of 9 out of 10 cats Christmas special. I was ready for bed but I had a 'fancy on'. That what we call if when you just want something to eat but you don't know quite what will hit the spot. But you'll know when you see it. So I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge and just stood, staring. There was nothing in there that I could eat so I just stood looking. I closed the door and started hunting around the kitchen. I opened jars of pickled onions, beetroot, jam... and just smelled them. There are all these foods that I can't eat because they will cause me so much pain and they were all just staring at me. Shouting out my name. "Eat me" said the mince pies. "Eat me" said the Christmas cake. "Eat me" said the Pringles. "Eat me" said the trifle. 

And I started to waiver. My belly was hurting anyway so I was considering having a treat. All it would do was to make it hurt more. All day I had stared at all of this food and it had been hard to not eat any of it. I had drunk a tiny amount of champagne at lunch time and that hadn't gone down too well so I knew that if I ate anything I would be in a lot of pain. I opened the fridge again and took another look inside, to see if anything I could eat had magically appeared. It hadn't. So I made myself a coffee and took myself off to bed. 

I was completely done in but it had been the most perfect day and I was so happy that I had been well enough to be at home and to enjoy it. It was made even more special as one of my St Marks friends had been rushed into hospital on Christmas Eve and had spent the day in hospital which had always been my worst fear. I'm hoping that she gets well quickly so she can get home to her family and enjoy some magical moments just as I have done. 

NB x 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Caravan wankers

Over the last few years when I was stuck in hospital for long periods of time Hubby and I would talk about what we would do if I ever got ‘better’. During some of those times when I was so, so poorly the idea of just being at home for more than a few weeks at a time seemed like a far fetched dream. But I’m currently living that dream! And obviously I know I will never ‘get better’ but for these purposes ‘getting better’ meant being well enough to be at home, not in pain 24/7 and not in bed all day, every day. Not too much to ask now is it??  So in our talks, once I was at home and was well enough to do the real basic things like watch Big Fella play football, Big Girl play netball, go to Tesco, play with the dog, go to the cinema etc one thing kept cropping up. We would love to have a motor home and tour round the country. We talked about the places we would like to visit, how much Buddy the dog would love it and how it would give us a chance to reconnect with each other.  But...

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 sl...

Trying to get vaccinated

When I was an inpatient recently I asked about getting the Covid vaccine because I’m classed as Clinically Extremely Vulnerable (ECV). Apparently other patients on the ward had gotten theirs but I was told that it wouldn’t be possible and that I would have to get in touch with my GP. Apparently staff within the hospital had been using the system to book vaccinations for friends and family by saying that they were an inpatient and as a result they were now only vaccinating staff who could show their ID badge.  I can understand that people are worried about the people that they love but to think that people abused the system in that way makes my blood boil.  So when I was discharged I rang the GP surgery and was told that they had absolutely nothing to do with the vaccination programme and that I would need to get in touch with NHS England. So I called NHS England and spoke to an adviser who told me that according to the system I wasn’t eligible for a vaccination. I explain...