The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1227 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

I think I slept for days–or that was how it felt. I was aware of Simon being there from time to time–he really is my rock. I don’t know who else. They prodded and poked and talked to me–they being a whole procession of doctors and nurses and so on.

Was I in a coma? I didn’t think so–I just couldn’t open my eyes, talk or do anything for myself except breathe. They even poked about with my boobs one day–now why would they do that?

I heard some children’s voices one day, one even seemed to think she knew me–I didn’t know her or remember her. She called me, Mummy–have I got children then? I didn’t really want to listen to her, but something compelled me to. She seemed to think I had six children–if I did, you’d think I’d remember them, wouldn’t you? Doesn’t say much about me as a mother.

Most of the time, I’d be either asleep-I suppose–I wasn’t aware of anything during these periods–or listening to the ethereal noises and basked in sunshine–wherever that was, it was beautiful and part of me didn’t want to leave there. Then to come back to people telling me to wake up and look after them–well, which would you choose?

One day I was awoken by the gurgling of a baby–awoken, assuming I’d been asleep–and I felt it touching my body, then clamped on to my breast and amazing sensations went through me until she bit me and I yelled.

I opened my eyes and there was Simon with Jenny and the wee yin. “Where am I?” I asked.

“You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?” I asked, and reached for my baby, she clamped to me again–not that I was sure I’d still be producing much milk.

“You slipped in the drive and banged your head,” Simon narrated my injury and the fact that I’d been here for several days.

“When did it happen then?”

“Boxing Day, that was a week ago.”

“I’ve been here a week? That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s true, babes, and even Trish an’ Julie couldn’t blue light you out of it.”

“Poor, Trish, she tries so hard,” I observed.

“She’s been really upset without you, she isn’t sleeping and wet the bed a few times.”

“Help me get out of here, have you brought any clothes?”

“Only a fresh nightdress.”

“I suppose if you had a thick dressing gown or coat that would do until I got home.”

“I think you have to wait until the consultant says you can go home,” cautioned Jenny.

“He hasn’t got dozens of children to look after, here take the baby.” I passed baby C over to Jenny and threw back the bedclothes, stepped off the bed and collapsed into Simon’s arms. Thankfully he caught me without falling over as well. “I have this habit of falling for you, darling, don’t I?”

“If you haven’t walked for a few days, it’ll take a little while to get your sea-legs back.”

“Help me, don’t just stand there.” I was a little upset and felt the tears of frustration running down my cheek.

He helped me up again and walked me up and down the room. My legs felt like they’d never walked before and I nearly went on the floor a couple of times, and would have done if it weren’t for Simon’s arm supporting me. I felt so angry with myself. I’ve walked before, so why not now?

As I made him walk me up and down the room again, so a doctor poked his head in. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” I screeched back at him.

“Get back in that bed, I’ll tell you when you can walk again.”

“You’ll do what?”

“I said, I’ll tell you when you can walk again.”

“Do you know who I am?” I screeched at him.

I felt Simon tense, perhaps hoping I wasn’t going to disclose anything embarrassing.

“I don’t care who you are, get back in that bed until I tell you otherwise.”

“Go take a running jump.” My abilities with rhetoric are legend.

“I’ll take no responsibility for you unless you follow my advice.”

“Advice? You’re just a good old-fashioned playground bully.”

“I won’t ask you again.”

“Good, I don’t think you’re much of a conversationalist anyway.”

He strode away as if I’d just asked him to loan me a few quid.

“Now you’ve done it.” Simon sounded a little worried.

“No, I haven’t but I’m going to. Jenny, lend me your coat, will you.” She took it off and holding on to the bed, I managed to put my arms in it and then stand up unaided. “Baby, please.” I held out my arm to Simon to pass me our baby.

“Is this a good idea?”

“Yes, Jenny can you gather up my stuff, darling can you walk me to the car?”

“What about that doctor?”

“What about him–I’m going home. I trust you haven’t brought your Jaguar?”

“Babes, you can’t just walk out–you’ll never make it to the car park.”

“Watch me.”

“Let me get a wheelchair,” offered Jenny and she trotted out of the room.

“I think this could be a mistake, what if you collapse on the way home.”

“I won’t, but I will be glad to get rid of this.” I pointed at the urine bag which was attached to me by the catheter.

“Sit down, I’ll ask a nurse to remove it for you.” He left me holding the baby. I was actually feeling very tired but sheer stubbornness meant I wasn’t going to give in. I cuddled the baby and she gurgled at me, “Ma-ma,” she said and laughed at her cleverness, so did I and kissed her.

I handed Catherine to Simon while I was disconnected from mains drainage by the nurse. “You’re not planning on going home–are you?”

“I am not planning, I’m going.”

“But you’re not ready yet.”

“That’s okay, I’ll get my hair done at home.”

“I didn’t mean your hair, you were unconscious a few hours ago.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So you’ll need intensive physio and assessment.”

“I’ll arrange it at home.”

“If you discharge yourself, we won’t be liable for anything that happens.”

“What you mean if it rains on my birthday or the Royal Wedding?”

“Is she always like this?” the nurse asked Simon.

“Only when she’s conscious.”

“I see, look, Cathy, please get back in the bed until you’ve been assessed by your consultant.”

“No thanks–the food is awful.”

“You haven’t had any yet,” she accused me.

“See what I mean–I’m going home.” At this moment Jenny appeared with the wheelchair. I plonked myself in it and asking for my baby, told Simon to take me home.

“You have to sign a self discharge form.”

“Send it to me–keep going, Si, let’s get out of Colditz before they realise we’ve gone.”

Ten minutes later, I scrambled into the back of the Mondeo and Simon took us home. I think I was asleep before we got there and it took me a moment to rouse myself before he turned the car round and took me back.

Somehow I staggered into the house and the girls spotted me and danced around us, nearly tripping me up. I sat down in the kitchen and Stella made me a cuppa–it was like nectar–I hadn’t had a cuppa for over a week. Simon then carried me up to bed and I slept on and off all night.

I was aware of people coming in to see me and even touch me at times, but I soon drifted back to sleep. Trish even came and lay beside me telling me how much she’d missed me and how she never wanted me to leave her again.

I felt my eyes moisten before I relaxed into the blue nothingness which seemed to surround me, and her body clamped to mine as she hugged me and sent me her love.