So Little Wren Sunflower Boy is in a hospital tonight,* he jumped off a cliff and perforated his eardrum. He's now sporting a very flash turban and gets jelly and ice cream for dinner.
It's a good way to learn that sometimes the choices you make in life have consequences. I mean just look at this dinner! We had a chuckle and said the one thing he should have done was put Pizza Hut down as his emergency contact number!
Still, at least he's had his dinner, unlike me. I'm just sitting here watching his drip, drip and doing my very best to get everything sorted for him to have the most comfortable night possible!
Little Wren Boy is not so little anymore. He's well over six foot tall and I know I'm very lucky to have got our youngest kid, at twenty years old, to be the first to have had a night in the hospital.
I've already been to see the ward Sister on several occasions. I'm trying not to ruffle too many feathers but.....
I started with the 'is there any chance we could have a bigger bed?' He is after all, virtually doubled up in a tiny bed? He doesn't like to complain...
Unlike his not-so Zen Wren mother
First off, I'm rather pleased with myself at having got him an upgrade to a private room. Why are all my family and friends rolling around on the floor laughing? C'mon you wouldn't have expected anything else would you from the Queen of Upgrades would you?!
The only problem is that this upgrade cost a bit. I knew my Trip Advisor reputation was not going to cut it with the check-in chick at The Royal Victorian Eye and Ear Hospital but now I have to confess to my husband that we're getting a $800 bill for the room for the night "Whaaaat?" I know he will say.
I know he's going to tell me that our son will be drugged up to the eyeballs and won't remember the night that we splashed out enough for a posh suite in the best hotel in Melbourne. I can hear him saying now "that was a waste of money!!"
Anyway, I'm rather pleased with my efforts thus far, because we're in a public hospital with limited facilities for private rooms, which they tell us on arrival is usually kept for those with special needs, or those who go a bit loopy on the medication. Ha! I suspect they realised that this poor kid had special needs - his mother in full flight, in protective mother hen mode...
By this stage my son is feeling nauseous - or maybe it was me at the thought of having to confess to my husband what I'd just done...
'Any chance we can both have some anti - nausea medication?' I ask the nurse. She smiles, thinking I'm joking.
They wheel my son into his new room, which was a surprise as I was expecting a better bed. In fact , for 800 bucks I was hoping for a whole pillow menu and a chocolate on his pillow.
About the bed, I start! The nurse very cleverly pulls out the end of the bed for a slight extension and for the first time Little Boy Wren can straighten his legs and promptly falls asleep.
The nurse looks at her watch "Oh look it's ten past eight, it's time to go!," she smiles sweetly!
* This was written on Friday, my son is now home from the hospital and making a good recovery!
Thank you for all the get well soon messages!
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thanks to the hosts at Our World Tuesday
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