Friday 20 February 2009

A different sort of two week wait

Dr Compassion signed my sick note for two more weeks and is happy to carry on doing that. Two weeks, not a month? He wants to keep an eye on my emotional state. Yes, once again I got the sad-puppy-dog look and, "how are you?" and once again there were the tears. I don't know why it happens with him, when anyone else asks how I am I don't cry, they get the truth, but I don't cry. I think it's because I associate that chair in that room and that concerned face with my pregnancy and all the problems I had during it.

He worries that I'm not sleeping but no thank you, no more sleeping pills, he tentatively mentions antidepressants and seems relieved when I refuse. I tell him I'm going to see a counsellor on monday (yes, finally) and he seems pleased. I'm so glad my regular doctor wasn't available that one day and I was given an appointment with him by default.

We sent off a swab to make sure that the strep b is under control (I think it's gone I hope it's gone it must be gone) and he gave me the choice of taking the swab myself or letting him do it. Ummm... let me see... I went off to the toilet and swished that long cotton bud around feeling like a medical professional, well no not really but feeling glad someone else wasn't getting access to my ladyparts. He's never been there, I think it might change our relationship. I've got enough of that particular sharing experience coming up in two weeks time when I will be back at the hospital exposing said ladyparts to the world once again... well, no, maybe not the world but it surely feels like it sometimes.


  1. Wow. Didn't know that do-it-yourself swabbing was an option. I am finding myself perversely jealous of this!

    But, more to the point, I am so proud of you- both for recognizing your own strength in dealing with sleep issues and the grief monster, and for availing yourself of anything that might be helpful in getting through it. As a therapist myself, I have to say, some of us are actually quite lovely to talk to ;)


  2. Good on you, Barbara. Thinking of you & George

  3. Barb, I'm sorry we had to meet like this. I appreciate your type of humour though. I'm so sorry for you and your little poppet. I love the letter writting you do for George. I just started this in a book for my little Logan earlier this week. I hate the empty feeling of not being able to "talk" to my son, and I am hoping this helps me. Keep breathing Barb!



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