A post for my mum
This time last year, shortly before Mothers Day, we did not know if you were coming home.
The doctors took us into a room, a room where there was already a box of tissues on the little table and we were told you may not last the night. Big lettering on your notes “Do Not Resuscitate”. But somehow, you got through that night and every other since.
I joke that you’ve got your own season ticket for the hospital, most of the staff on the various wards know you by sight and the standard procedure is that ambulance crews take you to CDU upon admission to save waiting in A&E for hours.
I’m so glad you’re still around for this Mothers Day, last year you didn’t recognise the significance of the day and we had to read the cards to you.
This year we’ve talked on the phone, I can’t risk passing any flu bugs to you so we’ll see you when we’re better. D pressed the button to call and was the first to wish you Happy Mothers Day, getting slightly confused and calling you “Mum” as that’s the listing on my phone.
Love you Mum