I manage to sleep until 8.30 when O woke up for a feed.
That’s when Jo comes in.
Jo the nurse.
The room was light by then. She introduces herself.
“Which ward am I on?” I ask.
“Didn’t they tell you?” She’s shocked. I shake my head. They didn’t show me where anything is either.
Jo apologises. I feel a bit better. She shows me the loos, showers, kitchen and playroom. I spy one of the mums from the assessment unit in the room next door to mine and wave.
Jo takes O and gives him cuddles. She finds us a bouncy chair. I cry.
She makes it feel ok.
She gets some bread and butter and jam and looks after O while I make toast and tea. Then I force soms toast down and feed O his morning goop…
Then they move me to the room next door with the mum from the previous night.
Everything just feels better.
The consultant comes round. I’m shitting it a bit as I don’t think my nerves can take another battering. O is still using his arm. He’s waving it around and picking up toys with it.
The consultant brings Bex, the Dr who diagnosed Os bronchiolitis. She recognises us and that makes it better.
The consultant plays with O and O shows off, passing the toy from one hand to the other and preferentially using his left arm.
“I think the fracture is a red herring.” The consultant says. “The most likely cause being birth.”
I explain that his labour was quick and he dropped onto my leg and the consultant nods.
“I will get the consultant radiographers to check it and if the fracture is newer than 48 hours, we’ll have to run some more tests I’m afraid.” He says. I nod, but I’m definitely not feeling accused. This guy sounds like he’s on my side. He wants to find out how it happened, not accuse me. He leaves and I’m happier.
OH and L turn up and we munch and I take L down to the playroom while OH cuddles O to sleep.
OH then takes L to stay with mum for the afternoon and the Drs update me (no update). OH runs around getting shopping and sandwiches and mugs and pjs for the coming night and Bex comes in to tell me that the consultant radiographer isn’t happy with the image so we need another xray.
Five minutes later we are escorted to paediatric xray, I put on the lead jacket and pin O to the bed. He’s better this time and holds still enough to get a good image.
We are escorted back up, we get menus for the following night and OH cuddles O to sleep while I have an hours nap.
The day has finally sped up again and things are moving and it’s all much more positive and I no longer feel quite so victimised although I don’t doubt that there are still questions.
OH is packing up to go and pick up L when Jo comes in.
“I’ve got an update.” She says looking nervous.
I feel my lunch threatening an exit.
“The Dr just called. He’s spoken to the radiographer and he’s happy for me to tell you that there is no fracture and you can go home.” She blurts.
“There’s no fracture. You can go.” She repeats.
All that. For nothing.
I speak to the registrar and get discharge papers then go to the security desk to get my discounted parking. They tear up my ticket and tell me to buzz them at the barrier.
We are free.
I have been to emotional hell and back. They apologised but is that enough? My faith in the system is completely destroyed as they criminalise the vulnerable.
On Monday I’m asking for Prozac.
As for O, he has a severe cold now and can barely breathe but he is otherwise fine.