Down on the Farm

The Hospital

The man quietly put his key in the door and slowly turned the handle, making sure that he did not wake the inhabitants above. As he tiptoed upstairs he could hear a strange moaning coming from the smallest room, and now he drew nearer he could see that it was coming from the cot on the right. The small blue night-light was on, and in its glow he could make out the writhing look of anguish upon the boy’s face.

Acting quickly, and picking him up to comfort him, he rushed into the main bedroom where the mother was sleeping. There wasn’t any point in staying quiet anymore, so he woke her up and asked her what she thought was the matter with him.

By this stage Dylan was shaking, and his lips had turned a very dark purple colour. The look in his eyes could be compared to the look that a small wildebeest gives his mother as a lion approaches, and doesn’t know the word, “Help!”

After a few minutes pondering on the next course of action, they decide to take him to the local hospital where experts are waiting for the next purple-lipped case.

This journey involved picking up his sleeping sister and throwing the two of them in their car seats, and then racing off to the hospital as if they were being chased. It looked very similar to the Ant Hill Mob from Wacky Races pretending to be chased by Burt Reynolds from the Cannonball Run.

After a few hours, with a plastic bag strapped around his meat and two veg, his urine sample convinced the panel of experts that he had a water infection. To the untrained eye it looked like a glass of traditional lemonade, which still raised a few alarms that something wasn’t right.

The family were taken upstairs so that they could be kept away from the public. This suited them, as an alcoholic tramp was sitting just outside their cubicle shaking and randomly shouting.
After a quick ten hours the consultant finally popped his head around the door to check on the patient. A course of anti-biotics were administered and confirmation that the parents had behaved in the right way. Apparently the water infection can spread into the blood stream in babies, and this is serious stuff.

The poor, little man has now all but recovered, but ever since that day he has never been able to look at Burt Reynolds the same.

So that wraps up another adventure in the world of medicine and fear, tune in next week where I’m sure there will be another one.

The Wedding

It was a beautiful, sunny day in the Shropshire countryside as the Holley family rolled along with the scenery. Passing through hamlets of Tudor houses with old phone boxes. There were farm shops selling freshly dug potatoes, and it was possibly these that were to be served a little later at the wedding of a close friend of mine from University.

The venue was a disused stud farm set in the middle of about 100 acres of the greenest countryside I have ever seen. To express it in the manner of the poet James Blunt, “It was Beautiful.”

The house cost £2.5million a few years ago, and if I ever go to a more idyllic setting for a wedding then I will consider myself a very fortunate young man from Itchen.

The wedding itself was actually a blessing (the ceremony part happened a few hours before in a registry office). Picture the classic Hollywood interpretation of a wedding in the garden and you would be close. It looked very similar to Forrest Gump’s wedding to Jenny in Alabama. Anyway, a classical guitarist was playing in the background and the sun played along by behaving itself and staying put for the whole day.

The meal and evening soiree were adjourned to the Marquee that was situated in another one of the fields, and the whole day went swimmingly. Considering, the house was owned by his mum and step dad, the actual day was low key and relaxed. There were none of those waste of time frills that you get at so many weddings these days. Bottles of bubbles with hearts on, gold love hearts on the table, and a stringed quartet playing insipid music in the background. None of this occurred. This wasn’t about keeping up with the Jones’; this wedding was real and about two people making a commitment in front of people. The speeches, although brief, were honest and heart felt. Everyone there was relaxed and you didn’t see the usual scene of a representative of the wedding party running around because Uncle Fred has just eaten the posy.

The only problem with the day was my chair lifting technique let me down. I, along with most of the male contingent, carried through a pile of chairs from the first field to the Marquee. When I set these down I bent with my knees in the correct ergonomic fashion, but the trousers gave way. All up the seat, at least 20 inches. Claire had to perform an emergency operation that required several stitches; otherwise I would have been walking around for most of the day with my backside hanging out from its hidey-hole.

This wasn’t a case of a stitch in time saves nine, but a stitch in time saves the wedding.


Health Check

It is worth a mention that Sophie has just had her biggest weight gain so far, and put 8ozs on in a week. We are now going to be putting her on a diet before she gets too big.