Manic - weekend 11

The weekends are really manic but this one was a record breaker…

I was mid-way through training on Thursday when I got a call from my cousin who lives with me. She was crying violently and could barely talk. I thought she’d been attacked… She eventually got the words out that Dominique had collapsed!

Dominique had been complaining of cough, cold… the usual winter aches and pains the week before but this was obviously a turn for the worse. I asked her to put Dominique on the phone if she was still conscious. After a short wait, Dominique got on the phone and I asked her if she wanted to go to the hospital and she said yes.

I got off the phone and called my friend who lives in the area to please go to my house. I then called Tunji to ask him to call a doctor friend of ours and make his way home.

Why my cousin did not call Tunji who was 20mins down the road calling me instead 90 miles away in Leicester is one of the mysteries of life. I think all women have that… no matter where you are or what you ‘think’ you’re doing, home is your number one job.

I went back in to finish my training class then told the managers I needed to get home ASAP and would work from home on Friday. I did not realise how much of a challenge it would be to get home – with the bad weather, there was a general transport shut down across the country.

I tried the train company and the person on the phone in a thick Indian accent said “We have been told not to accept any more passengers” when I asked him why, he said “Well, you may catch the train but you will not get to your destination” – Ah! Can you imagine saying that to a Najia Spiri babe like me – “I will get to my destination in Jesus Name Oh!” On the BBC travel website, all the major motorways were blocked off – M1, M6, M25 – all of them. And the death toll from the storms were rising. First it was 4, then 6.

I finally decided to brave it on the roads by 6:30pm and prayed to God for His protection. As I drove down, I pondered on the fragility of life… some people woke up that morning like any other and due to a bit of a storm, that was it – life over. On the radio, the news reader was talking about the latest fatality, a 2 and a half year old who was crushed to death by a wall falling on him in the storm. I switched over to my CD player, I did not want to hear any more bad news.

Thank God for His mercies, I arrived home – in one piece – 2 and a half hours later. Dominique was feeling much better and had eaten. My friend had cooked rice and fish stew. Thank God for good friends.

Friday was uneventful – apart from the house looking a tip because Dominique was off sick – it went okay. I popped out with Kitan to the pharmacist at Boots because he was getting discharges from his left ear. By the time we got home, the mess had gotten to Dominique and she had dragged herself from her sick bed to have a quick tidy… bless her! I was going to do it myself – eventually.

Saturday was a special day – my baby was 2 and a half years old! I spent the morning at the hair dressers and regaled them with excerpts from my blog – my friend Nneka was there too. They were particularly amused at the ‘broken down door’ incident. Later that day Kitan and I had a couple of kiddie birthday parties to attend but when we got home in the evening, we all had our own little family celebration. I am totally besotted with my little boy obviously but I once read somewhere that “Apart from good manners, the next best thing we can give our children are good memories” – Kitan was thrilled to be blowing out his candle on his cake. We sang ‘Happy Birthday’ for him and took a few pictures. It soon went pear shaped because he then wanted to use the camera himself and cried when his daddy won’t let him, then he wanted to cut the cake himself with the huge kitchen knife I had used for the pictures. Oh well… it’s about the memories right.

Because he’d slept late, I told Tunji to go ahead on Sunday to church and Kitan and I will follow later when he wakes up. When he did get up, the ear discharge looked worse and he would not let me touch the ear or anything part of the left side of his face. I called my friend Bernie, whose son had had grommets put in too and she suggested taking him to A&E to be safe (thanks Bernie… said through gritted teeth). – thus began my 5 hour visit to the A&E department at Royal Free Hospital Hampstead. Tunji came to meet us there after church and we finally left with a prescription for Paracetamol and some ear drops. I even had to make a fuss before an ENT doctor would even come down and see him. The NHS is rubbish!

Anyway, again God stepped in for us… Monday morning came and for the first time I was looking forward to getting back to the comparative peace and quiet of Leicester. What a weekend! Tunji called me on my drive in to say Kitan had woken up and there was no ear discharge whatsoever. Super!