I finally went to the doctor when I just couldnt take the pain any longer. Three days straightit was all too much. An awful headache that not a single tablet would touch. That night, I couldnt get to sleep for love nor money. The worst idea was probably searching the internet to find out what a headache could mean.
A quick browse brought up gems like: “How to tell a migraine from a brain tumour” and all sorts of scary medical tales. By the time I finished reading and comparing symptoms, I was ready to book a one-way trip to the undertaker, skipping the GP entirely.
I remembered how the character in Jerome K. Jeromes novel stumbled upon a medical encyclopaedia and diagnosed himself with every illness except puerperal fever: cholera, anaemia, St Vitus dance, even foot-and-mouth diseaseit was all there. He was even a little put out that the only one he didnt have was puerperal fever, just typhoid.
I felt just like that. After a deep dive online, convinced I was struck down with every fatal condition at once, I thought, Enough! Tomorrow, Im off to see the doctor!
Sitting in the queue by the surgery, I ended up in a rather sweet conversation with a lady. She asked me,
“Had a drink?”
I was puzzled, What drink?
Did you have a drink last night?
I shook my head, No, I didnt drink at all.
She peered at me, Your eyes are all red, like after a good night out
Honestly. Sometimes I feel like I go to my therapist just to learn how to deal with people who should be making those therapy appointments instead of me.
I managed a polite, Thank you for your concern.
When I was finally called through, I listed my symptoms as if I were hosting a variety show. And, to round it off, I pointed out my brilliant red eyes.
It looks like Ive been drinking, but I promise I havent! I muttered.
The doctor just looked at my eyes and shrugged, Your eyes are perfectly fine, dont make mountains out of molehills.
See what I mean? Some people are at the wrong end of the waiting room.
She checked my blood pressure, pulse, oxygen levelsasked a few more questions. In my mind, the answers painted a rather unhappy picture: hardly a migraine, something much worse perhaps.
Maybe you should arrange a head scan? An MRI? I can pay for it, I suggested. After all, thats what the internet told me. By midnight, Id become an expert in neurology, sort of.
Lets not jump to conclusions, she said. Well check your vessels, do some tests first, and only go to scans if things get worse.
That night, things felt like they couldnt get any worse. I cried, thinking that, having reached forty, all I had to show for it were two children and ten books. I couldnt decide if that was enough.
My little ones werent fully grown. The books werent exactly perfect either. There was an annoying typo on page sixteen of my new one. Children and editors alike, still very much a work in progress.
After the appointment, I picked up the kids from school and bought the prescribed pills. At home, I collapsed into bed.
The children wandered in,
Mum, is there anything to eat?
There is, but it needs cooking. Hang on…
My head didnt hurt quite as much now, but I was utterly wiped out after three days almost constantly in bed.
Danny went off by himself and managed to rustle up supperfried eggs and reheated pasta. He said,
Mum, I made sure Emma had her tea, shall I bring you yours in bed?
I was suddenly overwhelmed with pride. Good griefIve got a grown-up son! Hes going to do just fine.
No need, love, Im not hungry. Ill get up in a bit. You did brilliantly.
He nodded, then popped back with a plate of fruit, “Mum, theres kiwi here. Its got more vitamin C than oranges. There are apples tooloads of iron. And a tangerine, just so it doesnt go off…”
I melted with happiness. My boy, so caring! Instantly, I felt stronger.
Then Danny put his coat on.
Where are you off to?
Were out of cat food, he said.
Get some ice cream as well, please! Emma called. Im all out of food too…
My daughter came into my room, all businesslike with her toy doctors kit, glasses and her dressing gown. Dr. Emma Smith, at your service.
Well, patient, time for your medicine. Shall I give you an injection?
Call me Mum, not patient
When youre better, youll be Mum again, patient. Open wide.
I obeyed.
Wait, did you eat kiwi without me? Emma gasped.
Theres plenty, darling, I said, handing her the plate.
I dont fancy it now, Ive just had eggs. Im just waiting for ice cream. Shall I listen to you? She looped her pink stethoscope round her neck.
I chase after you every night with a bedtime story, but you never listen.
Oooo Emma pressed the toy to my neck. Alls definitely not wellyou talk too much and run after us far too often. I prescribe a jab and ice cream. But only if Danny gets enough for everyone. If not, well, you should have asked first.
What, you wont share a medicinal ice cream with your poorly mother?
Emma just stuck the toy needle into my leg and grinned.
Ouch! I laughed.
Well, its supposed to hurt! Thats how you get better.
To be honest, I felt pretty good after all that. And when Danny came back with ice creams for everyone, I was right as rain. My eyes were blue again, not red, and my strength returned. Still, I played the part of ill Mum a little longer, and that night Danny read Emma the bedtime story. She chose the Cyclopaedia.
Thats an encyclopedia about cyclops, Danny joked.
They read about Saturn, then dinosaurs, then milk teeth. They argued whether baby dinosaurs had milk teeth or not.
I listened to their chatting, feeling completely wrapped in happiness, love, and this odd but precious sense of purpose.
Later I had to change the bed, because theyd managed to spill the whole plate of kiwi all over the sheets. But in the end, the three of us snuggled up together and fell asleep.
Next morning, the doctor asked, So, did the tablets help?
I nodded. But, truthfully, it wasnt the medicine that cured meit was my little sweets, my children.
Those two lift you up and fill your days with joy and love, so theres no room left for pain or sadness.
Give your children a cuddle, even if theyre taller than you now. Nothing in the world is more healing than hugwell, perhaps a bit of kiwi fruit full of vitamin C!
