Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1210.

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1210
by Angharad

Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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The weather became milder a couple of days later, then got cold again and I had to scrape the ice off the windscreen several mornings. The chip thing was switched off unless it got nicked again. I was tempted to have it sprayed bright pink, because that would have stopped anyone going near it let alone stealing it.

Back to the weather–of course the snow struck again, the day before the last day of term, so the school phoned to say not to bother going in. Since I’ve had the 4x4, I must admit that I tend to worry less about snow than I did before although I’m well aware that even these things can get stuck and need tractors to pull them out.

Of course with our first real snow, this was twice as deep as the previous lot, the kids wanted to go sledging. This time Simon took them, they walked while he skied. I could see Danny was envious of Simon’s skill in staying upright on two planks, whilst he plodded through the snow in his wellies, so I wondered if he might like some lessons for his Christmas present–there has to be a dry slope round here somewhere. The girls seemed happy pulling their sledges–actually, plastic ones they sit on and go like crazy. Jenny went with Simon having dug out her walking boots and borrowed my gaiters to keep her legs dry.

Once I’d got rid of the rest of them, I was able to get down to some paperwork. Tom still wasn’t right, he kept falling asleep and had a bit of a cough. I did suggest he saw the doctor but he told me in no uncertain terms that, ”Seeing that daft gowk, haed caused it a’ in thae firrst place.”

He was, however, rather pleased when I offered to do some letters for him. The university had got rid of the students a week or two before, but the staff are able to then get down to real work without the distraction of students.

Most of what I was doing related to the survey: it was going slower than I’d hoped but we were making reasonable progress, and I was doing minimal work on it just to keep things ticking over. It’s all the children’s fault of course, but then I invited some of them here or agreed to take them, so I can hardly complain.

I had bought Trish one of those microscopes you can fit to a computer via a USB lead–I thought she’d enjoy it and I think there was an experiment to grow shrimps from eggs–non-edible ones, I hasten to add and it even gives some yeast to feed them.

I did look at the instructions as soon as I got it home and it’s really intended for kids a bit older than her, I’m sure she’ll manage and I arranged to borrow some slides from the uni as well for her to look at–I’ve kept off the rat’s brains or dormouse kidneys and stuck to protozoans and botanical specimens.

Julie has invited Phoebe down for Christmas, but I’ve warned her that I’ll require some help cooking and cleaning. Julie was also looking enviously at Simon’s skis so we’ve arranged to get some for her plus a nice jacket and salopettes.

Billie has a new cycling outfit, and Livvie has a new bike the same as the one I’ve got for Trish, only different colours–they’re both Trek and I had them built by the local bike shop–the one we saved from burglary last year, so we got a good discount. Livvie also has a new mobile–the other one was on its last legs.

Danny will have skiing lessons as mentioned earlier plus a pair of skis at the end of it–he doesn’t know that yet. Finally, Mima will have a computer of her own–a mini netbook–she is so much smaller than the others, even Trish and Livvie who are only a year or so older. Anyway, she’ll be able to use it on the internet with our wi fi connection.

I stopped to feed and change the wee yin and carried on with my pen pushing while she sat in her bouncer thing and practiced calling me–ma-ma, ma-ma and so on. It was delightful at first, then amusing, then an irritation. Oh well millions of other women go through the same experience, sometimes several times–silly buggers.

At first I thought it might be baby C or even Puddin’ when I heard the noise, but it wasn’t. I stopped typing and tried to hush the baby, but she just got upset and started bawling. Something told me to leave her and find the source of the noise. I did.

I shut the door of the kitchen with a bawling baby on the other side and walked to the lounge and dining room–nothing there. Then I heard it faintly. I listened again, it was the study–it was Tom. I knocked and entered, he was lying on the floor desperately trying to breathe and he was frothing blood at the mouth. I grabbed the phone and dialled triple nine.

While I waited for the paramedics, I propped him up in a semi-recumbent position. His breathing was still awful but at least he looked a little better colour, he was grey when I found him and he was getting a little colour back but he was still bluish about the lips–a sure sign of anoxia.

I called Stella down, she was the nurse after all, she was horrified at what she saw. But she stayed with Tom while I went to calm down a now hysterical baby. She had hiccups from crying and had pooed her pants as well. The paramedic arrived in a Landrover and I let her in–a youngish blonde, with her hair tied back in a green scrunchie which almost matched her outfit. I showed her to the study and went back to the baby. I heard her go out to get some oxygen and she was calling her colleagues to hurry with the van to get him to hospital. Not again–I spend half my life at that place.

She set up an ECG and concluded his heart was okay, so it was lungs–query, infection–possibly TB, or a cancer, or an injury. Tom was so exhausted he couldn’t answer her.

“He had a flu jab about ten days ago and hasn’t been well since,” I explained, she made a note of it.

I sat holding the baby in one arm and Tom’s hand in the other, he tried to smile at me over the oxygen mask. The paramedic gently said, “If it’s an infection, it might be wise to keep the baby in another room.”

Reluctantly I let go of Tom’s hand and went back to the kitchen. I was close to tears I was so worried. He was seventy if not seventy one and not in the best of health. I healed his heart a year or so ago but the rest of him was overweight and out of condition. I suspected his blood pressure was too high but he wouldn’t do anything in case the doctor told him to stop his single malt every night.

The ambulance arrived and reversed up the drive nearly sliding into Simon’s Jaguar–he’d not long had it back from the garage, with a new windscreen, hood and paint job. Tom was loaded into the back on a sitting stretcher thing–I had to help carry it–he’s no lightweight.

Stella agreed to look after the baby for me, and I texted Si: ‘Tom collapsed — gone 2 QA. C x’

I asked Stella to tell him to stay and look after the kids, I’d be back when I could. Then I cleared the snow off the windows and screens of the Porsche, swept most of it off the roof–apparently it’s an offence to drive a car with snow on the roof–and set off towards the hospital. If I spend much more time there, they’ll be calling it the Lady Catherine, not Queen Alexandra Hospital.

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