The holiday that we almost lost

Let’s start from the beginning. I guess the story of our holiday started off with almost not having one.

I was at the last few minutes of my night shift on that wednesday morning, yes the very wednesday that we were leaving for Jordan. M called to say that Ayman was vomiting his milk and is not able to drink or eat anything. Each time he tries, he would vomit it out. Yesterday late afternoon, our childminder, Aunty A, told us of how he grabbed some carrots and chicken when she wasn’t looking. He puked some out in the car but he was otherwise well in himself. He refused his evening milk – he sometimes does this after he eats chunks of food (long story of him not being able to eat solids – it would need another post by itself). It’s like the food gets stuck and he can’t eat or drink for awhile and eventually, it passes down and he is back to normal again. So anyway, I left it at that before leaving for my night shift.

This time though, he didnt seem to get better by himself. A trip to A&E was made and I arrived in hospital around 11 am (I don’t work in Leicester at the mo, my hospital is about 45 mins away from home). I was still slightly optimistic, hoping he gets better by himself. Plans were made by A&E and surgical team. They want to admit him and arrange for a scan to see whether there is an obstruction of some sort. Time was ticking and our original plan to leave leicester at 11 am was obliterated. I thought – dang, that’s at least 2k and our dreams for a holiday down the drain. We decided that M and Zayan should leave for airport and we would catch up, either the same day or tomorrow, once this whole hoo-ha of food being stuck is resolved. So off the boys went, to get their stuff and leave for the airport. Bye holiday, I thought, knowing the chance of catching a last minute flight was optimistic at best and hugely expensive and not worthwile as we were only going for 6 days. What’s the point of sightseeing Jordan for only 3-4 days??

Anyway, I tried giving his milk again around 12 pm and he downed it like a thirsty man in a desert. He finished it in no time and no vomiting. Hurrah!! I wanted to give him some pureed food to test whether all is well again but the A&E team convinced me to go to CAU (Children Assessment Unit) where the surgical team will be seeing us. Off we trudged, my mind racing, desperate for the hospital lifts – known to be incredibly slow – to be available. In CAU, I grabbed some pureed food – free for children admitted, thanks! – and again he downed it, ravished as he fasted all morning. Now I’m going to be one of those difficult mums who has decided to self discharge the minute we arrived. I’m sorry, if I didnt have a flight to catch, I would have duly obliged and stayed for a proper assessment. The surgical SHO arrived, not happy with my decision to self discharge my son.  The time is now 1 pm and we have 2 hours to drive to london to catch our 4 pm flight. I didnt want to upset anyone, the consultants that we are bound to work with in years to come, and I was trying to explain my reasons.

He drank 5 oz bottle. He has eaten a jar of pureed food. He hasn’t vomited. Look, he’s not even making any airway noises! He’s fine now!

We both looked at Ayman, Ayman looking quizically back, entirely settled and happy (now that he had food), unaware of what the fuss is all about.

Surgical SHO tried his best to make me stay, I know where he is coming from – he cant make the decision for me to go, it was up to his bosses. Don’t worry I said, I take responsibility if anything happens to him. Anyway I’m a paeds reg, I know what to look for now. Slightly reassured with that, he resigned to this difficult mum standing in front of him.

I finally made it out of the hospital at 1.30 pm and have coordinated with M, waiting outside for us. We have 1.5 hour to go till check in closes. I was sure we wouldn’t make it …

 

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