Following on from Part 1 (if you can bear to…), we are on the airport shuttle from the car park to Terminal 2 in Heathrow with the tickets, passports and Richy’s wallet on the roof of the car in the long stay car park. I don’t think I need to detail the kind of exchange (or non-exchange) we were having for the remainder of the 20 minute journey. Continue reading
I got a copy of LB’s medical records at the end of last year. It’s a mixture of letters, reports, results and comments and is peculiar reading. The number of different diagnoses he had, over the years, is a bit of a surprise, and the earlier use of language is a bit shocking. The ‘Chinese whispers’ effect is also interesting; the story shifts with different professionals. That is a bit disappointing considering a major bugbear for most parents I know, is the constant repetition of the basic background details. I wonder at what point, in the doctor patient communication, those details go awry. Continue reading
I’ve decided I’ve got to do this story in sections, otherwise it will be too long (and unbelievable… I’ve already blogged about the very end). I’ll start with the background and beginnings. Richy Rich and I booked a mammoth weekend away last November. Three nights in Marrakech. As I kept boring everyone I came across beforehand, even spending time with Richy in the airport was gonna be amazing, let alone the actual trip. Continue reading
One thing that doesn’t happen so much now that Laughing Boy is sixteen, is endless (often meaningless) appointments with professionals. Countless hours have been spent travelling, waiting and meeting a range of different people in different settings. One series of appointments, four years ago, was with a psychologist geezer (Psych Sid*) about LB’s ‘challenging’ behaviour. These appointments seemed particularly pointless as Psych didn’t want LB present. Continue reading
Earlier this year I went straight from a meeting in London to an overnight work gig in Birmingham. It was all a bit surreal (involving Alan Bryman and Angry Birds impressions). The following lunchtime after an intense focus group workshoppy thing, I rushed off to catch the train back home. In the short walk from the hotel to Birmingham New Street, I thought I was in Manchester. That really threw me when I got into the station and couldn’t find the ticket machines, and the trains/platforms had all disappeared. Continue reading
My eyesight has got much worse over the past couple of years. I’ve gone from wearing glasses to watch tv, to wearing glasses to stop banging into things. I take em off every night and leave them on top of the toilet. One Sunday morning I got up early, did my biz and flushed the toilet. My dressing gown sleeve caught my glasses just at that point and whizzled them down the toilet.
“AAARRRGGHHHHHH!!!!!”, I screamed in horror… “Whassup?” said a sleepy Richy Rich… “I flushed my glasses down the toilet..” I gibbered. Continue reading
Another totally random happening. I’ve reconstructed it using soft toys, because again I didn’t think to take a picture at the time. Mind you, they might have got a bit angry if I did.
It was a lovely sunny afternoon and I was at home with all the windows open. I noticed a car pull up on the pavement in front of our house. A couple got out with a baby and came into our front garden. I went to open the door thinking they were calling round for some reason. Instead of coming to knock on the door, they sat down on the grass. “Oh”, I said. “Er, sorry, did you want something?” “Oh, no”, he replied. “Ok, I just wondered what you were doing?” I said, totally puzzled. “We just came off the motorway and my wife needs to feed the baby”, he replied. Continue reading
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