Oh yes, back to prams pushchairs and car seats. Like saps, we've bought into the 'travel system' concept. When I was a kid, there were no car seats. Hell, there were no seat belts. There were barely any cars on the road, and AA patrols saluted you, by crikey. I remember travelling up to Scotland sitting right at the back of a VW Combi on the engine parcel shelf, playing cards and poking our tongues out at other cars. Style, class. We had it all.
Showing posts with label doctor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctor. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Style, class. We had it all
Oh yes, back to prams pushchairs and car seats. Like saps, we've bought into the 'travel system' concept. When I was a kid, there were no car seats. Hell, there were no seat belts. There were barely any cars on the road, and AA patrols saluted you, by crikey. I remember travelling up to Scotland sitting right at the back of a VW Combi on the engine parcel shelf, playing cards and poking our tongues out at other cars. Style, class. We had it all.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Hubris, anyone?
Our confidence is clearly growing: Priti has a visit to the doc without me. It's just routine. No problem, I don't need to be there. Yeah yeah, we're used to this now.
Hubris, anyone?
Hubris, anyone?
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Here in my car: Gary Numan
After the panic of Friday, a great weekend. Plenty of pottering, taking it easy, and general swelling.
More web site nonsense: www.greenbaby.co.uk and www.phpbaby.com and I am sure there are *thousands* more out there. To even things up, try www.willitblend.com And how about this: Gary Numan in The Times online http://women.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,27870-2308699,00.html
Here in my car. Oh yes.
More web site nonsense: www.greenbaby.co.uk and www.phpbaby.com and I am sure there are *thousands* more out there. To even things up, try www.willitblend.com And how about this: Gary Numan in The Times online http://women.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,27870-2308699,00.html
Here in my car. Oh yes.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Spotting: MAJOR stress factor all round
First scare this afternoon... At around 3pm, she notices some spotting - blood to you and me, mate - and calls me right away. Heartstopper.
The good news is that all is OK. We went to the GP, he did a quick kind of hand-held scan job that allows you to hear the baby's heartbeat, and we heard it rattling away at 160 beats per minute.
The good news is that all is OK. We went to the GP, he did a quick kind of hand-held scan job that allows you to hear the baby's heartbeat, and we heard it rattling away at 160 beats per minute.
It took the doc a bit of poking about with the electronic stethoscope to find the hearbeat, mind you, and at the end of it my heart rate was waaaay above 160, never mind the nipper. I think wifey's heart had stopped - or at least, all the blood had diverted to her crushing grip on my hand. I can hardly type, and the shy lover's friend may take a while to recover...
When it came to calling for help, when she first saw the blood: shit and corruption. There I am stuck at work, she cannot get hold of the midwife, and we cannot find the numbers for the hospital departments.
The midwifery number we were given to call is not attended during the afternoon. We were not told that. It was on answerphone. The assigned midwife turns her mobile off when she is not on shift (fair enough). There is no deputy's number on her voicemail. Rising panic? You bet.
Four hours after we called the midwifery department, and after we had separately made a GP appointment, a midwife called back. When we quizzed her about which number to call in future, she was not at all clear. Nor would she take action. Or suggest a course of action. She was not even sure if we came under midwifery, obstetrics, maternity or geriatrics. I'd have settled for dentistry at that point.
Anyway, MAJOR stress factor all round. The main thing is, all seems OK. Phew. Probably the Chalfonts, which is a common affliction in mid-term pregnancy.
Lessons to self: (1) keep the midwife's land and mobile number handy, (2) find out about alternative numbers to call.
And if that was all a scary one for me, imagine what it was like for wifey.
When it came to calling for help, when she first saw the blood: shit and corruption. There I am stuck at work, she cannot get hold of the midwife, and we cannot find the numbers for the hospital departments.
The midwifery number we were given to call is not attended during the afternoon. We were not told that. It was on answerphone. The assigned midwife turns her mobile off when she is not on shift (fair enough). There is no deputy's number on her voicemail. Rising panic? You bet.
Four hours after we called the midwifery department, and after we had separately made a GP appointment, a midwife called back. When we quizzed her about which number to call in future, she was not at all clear. Nor would she take action. Or suggest a course of action. She was not even sure if we came under midwifery, obstetrics, maternity or geriatrics. I'd have settled for dentistry at that point.
Anyway, MAJOR stress factor all round. The main thing is, all seems OK. Phew. Probably the Chalfonts, which is a common affliction in mid-term pregnancy.
Lessons to self: (1) keep the midwife's land and mobile number handy, (2) find out about alternative numbers to call.
And if that was all a scary one for me, imagine what it was like for wifey.
PS Just found this on the web:
Author: Adam Hunt
Imprint: Random House Australia
Price: $16.95
Subject: Family/Pregnancy
Format: Paperback
Release: 1-07-2003
Imprint: Random House Australia
Price: $16.95
Subject: Family/Pregnancy
Format: Paperback
Release: 1-07-2003
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Scan
OK, so now I know how the scan stuff is arranged.
The doc sent a letter off to the local maternity service (at St George's Hospital) and hey presto a letter comes back to us with the details fo the first scan.
It's fairly straightforward, and the lettter, remarkably, is written in fairly clear English rather than officialese. I'm impressed. Our scan is for between Christmas and New year, in week 12 (I think, remember to count in weeks!).
We also have another letter with details of the midwifery servce with a number to call to arrange a visit.
Pretty good.
Underneath it all, I am close to panic: will the baby be OK, will we make it to full term, will she be OK... The future is RUSHING towards me.
The doc sent a letter off to the local maternity service (at St George's Hospital) and hey presto a letter comes back to us with the details fo the first scan.
It's fairly straightforward, and the lettter, remarkably, is written in fairly clear English rather than officialese. I'm impressed. Our scan is for between Christmas and New year, in week 12 (I think, remember to count in weeks!).
We also have another letter with details of the midwifery servce with a number to call to arrange a visit.
Pretty good.
Underneath it all, I am close to panic: will the baby be OK, will we make it to full term, will she be OK... The future is RUSHING towards me.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Grumpy doc, grumpy dad
The doc, besides being supercilious and knowing much more than we did, confirmed the date as 10 July, and gave us a fistful of forms to complete.
Turns out that the medics say that full term is 40 weeks from the date of the last period, two weeks either side.
Translated, this means that they don't know either. It's between 38 and 42 weeks from the last period.
All I can say is I hate this. We have agreed not to tell anyone until after the first scan (how do we find out or arrange that I wonder?), which means not until Christmas.
As I see it, that means all the pain - morning sickness for her, tiredness, sudden need for food - and none of the pleasure of being able to tell people, or, really, enjoy the idea of a child on the way. Arse.
Turns out that the medics say that full term is 40 weeks from the date of the last period, two weeks either side.
Translated, this means that they don't know either. It's between 38 and 42 weeks from the last period.
All I can say is I hate this. We have agreed not to tell anyone until after the first scan (how do we find out or arrange that I wonder?), which means not until Christmas.
As I see it, that means all the pain - morning sickness for her, tiredness, sudden need for food - and none of the pleasure of being able to tell people, or, really, enjoy the idea of a child on the way. Arse.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Time for the doc
First thing, it turns out, is a visit to the doc and (a) she wants me to come along and (b) she has a blood test to confirm it officially, so we can get the free prescriptions and dentistry etc.
Well, I'd never thought of all this. I kind of assumed that it was a personal thing, having a baby, but the state is in there right away.
And sure enough, it means booking time off work, because the doc appointment is at 2pm, which is a fat lot of good. And No, there is no other appointment etc etc.
In my bones, I know that I will have to get used to this... on the other hand, already I find it an imposition. How crazy is that?
Well, I'd never thought of all this. I kind of assumed that it was a personal thing, having a baby, but the state is in there right away.
And sure enough, it means booking time off work, because the doc appointment is at 2pm, which is a fat lot of good. And No, there is no other appointment etc etc.
In my bones, I know that I will have to get used to this... on the other hand, already I find it an imposition. How crazy is that?
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