"I HAVE REPORTED YOU. YOU CANNOT GIVE A BABY FIZZY DRINKS IN A BOTTLE."
And out he thunders, scrubs adrift.
And in float the nurses to explain, ease, guide the situation.
"...Babies should not have carbonated drinks, only water or milk.... He's right, Coke after an operation will make your baby sick...." drifts through the 80s flowered-spangled curtain walls into our bedroom.
The nurses leave: Let's say they less than float out, and rather they stiffly, clenchingly bump out, between the 15 or so family members trying to squeeze into the equivalent space of a large sink. From my side of the curtain it looks like an extended family of cats wrestling under a vertical sheet. Until someone bursts through my curtain riding on the wheeled armchair straight into my baby's cot.
My husband is right to ask if I still have any friends in the ward the next morning. "PLEASE BE QUIET, YOU HAVE JUST WOKEN MY BABY" I copy, directly from the reporting doctor's tone.
I sit there in my plastic chair, or my bed, whichever way you want to look at the peeling blue pvc creeky semi padded upright thing I've lived on for the past week or so. I think about different cultures and how Coke is nutritious in some. The buzz goes on and on, louder, softer, til the baby cries so much the nurse explains to the buzzers that it's time to let him sleep, after his major surgery, not play with his older sister.
Peace for a while.
More crying. And some curtain fussing. "What has he had to eat Mum?"
"...Some chips...Curry - how much? Maybe ten spoons - no, this big spoon.... Just a little more fizzy drink, only a little... He is constipated, that is the problem, please give him something."
VOMIT.
With his crushed pelvis and upper legs in a cast it is very hard, not only to strain for extraction, then vomit out of nausea, but also to have a nappy changed. More curtain fussing - pretty vigorous this time. Plus much huffing and whining.
Peace.
"Mum, we're preparing the bottles for the night feeds - what does he have, cow's milk or formula?"
"Chocolate milk."
"Noo, cows milk or formula?"
"Strawberry milk."
"COWS. MILK. OR. FORMULA?"
"What is this cow's milk?"
Poor little bugger doesn't stand a chance, does he?
ReplyDeleteBrilliant writing, love it, familiar story... shocking... keep them coming! X
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