Hospital trips and Drama


I did it! I’m out! I’m home! I’m on the mend! For those of you who have been following my Facebook and Twitter…you’ll know what I’m talking about, as I ‘Selfie Queened,’ the entire thing. For those of you that don’t…I’ve just checked out of hospital. But before all that…let’s rewind.

I was working. I had been given a giant dodgy hormone pill, to help begin the procedure that I was about to go through. Day 1, i felt nothing, just like a feminine Goddess. Day 2, HOLY SHIT, did i feel groggy! I remember turning to work mate Lydia, (who messed up our ‘Supermodel water diet’ because she got too off her face on coffee and went mental, Lol) and basically saying, ‘I literally feel ill, shattered and like i’m about to have a ginormous PERIOD.’ It was less, ‘Mother Mary Goddess’ and MORE ‘Help me GOD!!’ I felt like rubbish and nothing is worse, than feeling that rubbish, hormonally rubbish, so you feel all girly and cross, emotional and unloved. It’s hilarious. But at the same time as feeling that dodgy, whopping out a huge tumble of customer service. I just needed to be under a giant duvet, hiding.

THEN, like I had some kind Fairy God Mother, in a Policeman’s outfit….in walks in Lee! (My favourite Policeman.) Right, so he’s been following the blog, he helps secure my place of work, he come sin all the time, we banter, he’s great, he knows everything that’s pretty much going on in my life. I’m open, chatty and just enjoy him being around. He’s all stable, like a rock. But don’t get it twisted. We have a brotherly, friendy bond…as Lee, my favourite policeman, is about to get married to the girl of his utter dreams in less than five weeks now! I’m actually excited for him. I terrify him about it, but I kow how excited her is! We get along well.

So, i’m feeling crap. Unadored. In walks Lee, knowing that I have a big old, hospital day, the next day…and that I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to it, (as it was quite an emotional procedure.) I’m doodling about, he pops up behind me and when I turn around he he’s gone out of his way to buy me a box of choccies and two of my favourite magazines and simply so I wouldn’t be bored during my hospital stay! AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! How lovely is Lee!! It couldn’t have come at a better time and I just leapt up, with squeal, hugged him, kissed his cheeks and with ‘thank you’s’ told him that I loved him! I ADORE GOOD PEOPLE. I mean, HOW KIND is that. It’s so thoughtful!!

Now, it’s not often that people do wonderful things for me, and i know this because I can remember every single time someone has done something thoughtful for me, without benefit. I’ll whop out a few…Lisa, with the amazing flowers, Emily, when my marriage broke down and she had a book that I loved ‘The Secret’ mailed to me, Jenna and Lorraine, covering my shifts at the last minute, Kevin and my car breaking down….Keiran and his husbandy romance….my birthdays…But I can name them. And girls always do nice things for girls. Yet when boys do it, it’s great.

So, not only did i appreciate it more than anything…because it meant so much and I was horrifically hormonal. But he made me solidify him as this AMAZING guy, who is just so thoughtful and kind….Like his future wife is SO lucky. Yet at the same time, when I was doing the ‘men are twats’ rant in my heart….he fully restored my FAITH IN MEN. There are some really great guys out there….I just picked badly. (So girls, if you’re like me and you pick badly…don’t fret,it’s not ALL men, as there really are some AMAZING ones.)

His gift actually made me cry when I got home.

So yes, next morning….We were all up at the crack of dawn…the babies were looked after by my brother and daddy, whilst my Mum drove me to the hospital for my big old ‘procedure.’ When all of this started, I really didn’t understand how much I would actually have to go through, physically, mentally and emotionally. The process is long. But I got myself there thanks to my Mum…in my traditional Primark navy tracksuit. (I always wear it to hospitals, before I get given the ‘ass out’ gown.) The service was AMAZING and my Mum was with me, every single second, all the way through it. She sat by my side, the entire time, making sure I was okay.

I was all settled and happy…


THEN, practitioners (who had fooled me with cups of tea and smiles,) came at me, with a curtain draw, rubber gloves, a ‘put your legs in the froggy position’ and shoved lots of pills up my *&*£()(&$* with their own hands!!!!!! This was at 9am!!!! On a THURSDAY! I was told to lay still for 30 minutes…before i was allowed to move….and then it all started. (I even heard the girl in the next room chucking up.)

I was fine, I aced it. I felt no pain…I sat there, chatting to my Mum, whilst SHE READ my Policeman magazine, and I ate all the choccies…with our cups of tea. I’m laid there in the most dodgy disposable pants…with a giant pad on, losing my insides and bleeding out onto the bed sheets. Lovely. Sexy! Wonderful.

They rested my blood, took my readings, they kept my urine, which was just blood and clots. They were lovely the entire time…and I felt fine. I mean gosh, I felt so starving and felt bad for my Mum, sitting with me, that at one point we asked if we could go to the restaurant and get lunch…and did. My Mum was amazing. That’s how fine I felt.

When I got back, MORE pills where jibba jabbed in me…same thing, ALL DAY. I was bed ridden. Three hours later…MORE PILLS, yet this time with pain killers as I had managed to blag a temperature.

Then it all went downhill. I started to feel groggy. I felt ill. I felt fluey. i felt like I needed to puke. My body was being drained of life, blood and everything it had in it…I had a headache…i fell asleep.

I wasn’t even meant to be in hospital all day, I was leaving at 2pm. WAS I HELL. I got really poorly. Everything became a ballache…I then got moved to a different ward so I could be looked after more closely. I just remember people rushing around me, giving my jacket potatoes, my Mum sitting with me and whilst I was bleeding out. I bled out so much that I looked down under my bedsheet and in one mighty gush….my ENTIRE COVER, from the bottom of my back to my ankles, was bright red….you couldn’t even see any white sheet…and I was laid in a pool of my own blood…and with these alien like, hamster sized clots, clambering between my legs.

It was madness…so I *buzzed.* Thank god I did, they got busy, cleaned me up, plonked me in a wheel chair and rushed me through the ward to get examined, where I was laid on another bed a more people clamped open my vagina, shone lights in it and with METAL devices scraped all sorts out. IT KILLED. I even said, ‘I am NEVER HAVING SEX AGAIN.’

Got cleaned up. I had lost so much blood, but still managed to eat an entire Jacket with beans. 🙂

It’s now around 9pm…and been there all day, and they decided to keep me in, because they couldn’t send me home in such a poorly state.

By this point, I actually felt better, as they had given me the thumbs up, told me that I was a ‘toughie’ and that the whole procedure was now over. I had completed it. Everything was out. It was all done. But because I lost so much blood, I just needed to be monitored. (My Mum was shattered, poor thing. I thought of her and the babies the entire time. I’m just like that. I don’t know why i can’t put me first?)

There was a sense of relief. A sense of boredom. Hospitals really are boring. But more than anything…like a burden had been lifted. This has been a 2 month trail of ultimate stress, not feeling myself, not sleeping, being really ill, smiling and working through it. All sorts. Other than my Mother, I had no emotional help. There was just me and this soldier face that I do. It was all finally over. I happy cried. I did it. All i wanted at that point was to see my babies.

I texted all the appropriate people…and then i went to sleep, that night in Barnsley hospital.








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