Tag Archives: first born

We had a doctor’s appointment this morning

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It did not go well.  I am massively angry.  I am hugely cross.

I’ve been quite concerned about Ruby for a while.  She has been under the weather since November.  Not sick to the point of staying in bed, but she has high temperatures every week (I should buy shares in Calpol), she’s very snotty and she’s started getting in ear infections.  A couple of weeks ago, gloop was pouring out of her ear.  We rushed her to the out of hours clinic and the Dr couldn’t see her ear drum for gunk.  She’s had antibiotics which have caused her to suffer a horrible side effect, yeast infections are no fun in adulthood, I can only imagine how grim it must be for someone too little to understand.

It’s not just that (as if just that wouldn’t be enough for a parent to become quite concerned – you cannot tell me it’s normal to be unwell for 6 months).  Her speech and social development have gone rapidly downhill.  My previously happy, sociable little girl has become withdrawn, scared of, well, pretty much everything, and spends most of her time pottering about doing things by herself.  She no longer settles at nursery, I’ve been told she never plays with other kids, she won’t join in unless the activity is explained to her step by step.  I can’t leave her at her kid’s group when we go to church, she no longer joins in the singing at the toddler music class we go to.

And she’s sad about it.  She wants to join in, she wants to play and socialise.  She doesn’t understand why she can’t do things the same way other little kids can.  Last sunday, she told me she was scared of the other children at sunday school, but that she was sad and she wanted to join in.  She tunes out of conversations and situations where there is a lot of ambient noise, and she’ll only converse when you sit at her level and talk to her loudly and clearly.  Her vocabulary is fine, the clarity in which she speaks, however, is not.  She cannot hear the difference between sounds and when she’s in a large noisy group, she can’t hear when she is being spoken to.

So we took her along to the doctor, and we were fobbed off royally.  This morning I was told:

  • that this was perfectly normal behaviour in a toddler (not when it’s such an obvious decline in her development).
  • that 6 months isn’t anything to be concerned about and that it’s a short history (the NHS site suggests glue ear corrects itself in 3 months, so half the time I’ve been worried).
  • that grommets are no longer inserted (lies, they most certainly are).

I pressed the point that I was very worried and wanted her assessed by an ENT because I am convinced, absolutely convinced she has glue ear and I was told that they don’t treat glue ear anymore, and anyway, did I even know what glue ear was?

Yes, actually, I do.  I had glue ear as a child and it’s left me partially deaf in my right ear.  My glue ear meant that my ear drum perforated and is scarred as a result.  It will never move the way it should again, I will never have normal hearing again.  I was told she could have her hearing tested but that her ears look clear. I was told it would take at least 6-8 weeks.  I said I wasn’t happy with that and that we might have to be seen privately, and suddenly, would you look at that, she may be seen within 3 weeks.  Funny how when you offer to throw money at a situation, all of a sudden the consultant can find the time and inclination to get off the sodding golf course and you get bumped up the queue.

And I am angry at my husband who sat there and did nothing, didn’t stick up for his little daughter, didn’t help me out when I was trying (and failing) to get the GP to listen to me and treat me as anything other than a pushy hypochondriac mother, didn’t advocate for either of us, and thought that how we were treated today was okay.

It’s not okay.  He has no idea just how not okay any of this is.

So as soon as I got home and calmed down enough to compose myself, I called the Health Visitor.  I know a lot of people have issues with HVs but they are fantastic down here.  We are lucky.  She asked me all sorts of questions about Ruby’s social development, about her hearing, my history, her hearing tests, her general health.  And she’s put through an urgent referral for a hearing test and given me the contact details of the paediatric audiology unit with instructions to call if we don’t hear within 3-4 weeks.  She’s done all the things Ruby’s GP should have done and didn’t.  And I told her so.

I am thinking of contacting PALS about the standard of care Ruby received this morning.  I am not often one to complain but I am angry and hugely upset over this.

the sun did not shine, it was too wet to play…

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We’re dealing, at the moment, with Ruby’s first obsession.  If she’s anything like me, and I can see little streaks of behaviour that suggest that she is, then it’s the first of many many crazes.

Ruby’s first obsession is Dr Seuss, specifically, any and all things related to The Cat In The Hat.  We’ve been buying her Dr Seuss books since she was very little, because I really love to read them, and the rhyme and repetition, and frankly, slightly disturbing illustrations hold her attention when we read to her.  Cat In The Hat aside, her favourites are Hop on Pop, which she knows to the point of being able to recite it to us, and Green Eggs and Ham.  She won’t go to sleep without having The Cat In The Hat, and at least one one Dr Seuss book read to her.

A little while ago, my sister bought her the DVD of the Cat In The Hat movie that came out in 2004, and since then it’s barely come out of the DVD player.  Now, she and Darcy watch it every single day.

“Cat Hat” they both demand.  And they sit there, on the sofa, pretty much transfixed, until the end.  It’s 9:30 and it’s already been on once today.  I’ve not had so much peace and quiet and ability to get on with stuff, for, well, a very long time.

It doesn’t stay particularly true to the story, (as that would make for a very short film) and parts of it are pretty crude, no doubt contributing to it’s PG, and not U rating, but over all it’s harmless and quite funny.  And I think a pretty good job has been done on Seussing it up.

Anyway, I suppose I should be happy she’s not obsessed with Justin Bieber, like that three year old in the States, and that this little fad of hers at least has some intellectual and literary merit.  And if it keeps her interested in books and reading, it can only be a good thing, right?!

Toddler Party Planning

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It’s a beautiful day here in London, there is sunshine, a few wispy little clouds and best of all, it’s warm.  I threw my usual mummy uniform of skinny jeans and a t shirt in the wash and put on a skirt this morning!

Who knows, I may even go out wearing sandals today.

And weather like this really makes me feel proactive.  It makes me want to take the girls out, walk down into Tooting, have a look around the market and the fabric shop and pick up an iced coffee from Cafe Nero on the way home.  The fabric shop is definitely somewhere I’ll be heading out to today.  Ruby’s second birthday is fast approaching and now that she’s not such a little baby anymore, I’m putting a lot more time and effort into planning her party.  And that involves fabric because I’m going to be making some bunting to hang.  And I might even be brave and attempt to applique Happy Birthday on some of it.  But don’t hold me to that.

I’ve taken rather a lot of inspiration from Kelle Hampton, because that lady really does know how to throw a party, and am hosting Ruby’s soiree at the park.  Partly because I don’t enjoy cleaning stamped in cake out of the living room carpet, but mainly because we’ve bought Ruby a mini micro scooter and I know she’ll want to use it as soon as she’s ripped off the wrapping paper.  And what better place than the park?

There’s going to be tiny sandwiches, home made chicken nuggets, bowls of berries, lots and lots of little cakes.  But best of all, one very happy little girl.

Duvet Day (or, dealing with a sick toddler)

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We had plans to hit Westfield London today.  Every couple of months it calls out to me.  It says “Come and visit! Spend the day browsing the wondrous shops.  Wish for handbags and jewellery you can’t afford in The Village.  Have a tasty lunch in our food-hall-of-glory.  Drool over the latest pretty gadgets in the Apple Store.  Leave, having made some hugely necessary purchases and be safe in the knowledge you’ll do it all again soon…” So today, I was going to satisfy that craving.

Mainly, we were going because Ross has a couple of potentially very interesting meetings next week, and wanted a new pair of jeans (skinny jeans if you please) and possibly a couple of new shirts to wear.  His current jeans are worn through at the knees from hours spent playing with Ruby and Darcy.  And since buying them, he’s lost a fair few lbs and now they hang off him.

But instead, we are having a duvet day.  I woke up this morning to some sad little sobs coming from Ruby’s room.  On investigation it became very apparent she hadn’t managed to digest her dinner from last night, and it was now all over her bedding and herself.  My poor little girl is not a well bunny.

“Oh NO, Mummy” she wailed, looking very sorry for herself.  The next half an hour was spent cleaning her up, being the Chief Distributor of Cuddles and trying to prize a vomit soaked favourite toy from her grip to load, alongside bedding, jim jams and a quilt, into the washing machine.

She looks well enough, and isn’t listless or particularly sleepy, but she isn’t keeping anything down, not even the blandest of the bland Ryvita.  Not even water.

So today, the sofa is where we are staying.  Camped out with blankets, a big jug incase we can’t make it to the bathroom, Cbeebies, Lady Gaga on iTunes, sippy cups of tepid water and later on, when she’s feeling a little bit better, bland snacks.

Poor little Rhubarbs! I hope she’s better soon.