It has taken me a while to work out how this tagging thing works.
This is my forty fifth post, so maybe because my rate of blogs has finally overtaken my age the dawning has occurred. Something like that. But I have just realised that being tagged is not just something that you are supposed to accept graciously, but something that you are supposed to respond to. And by response they mean telling the world about five things they didn't know about previously.
That's quite hard in my case, as for the last three months I have worn my heart on my sleeve and told the world all about me in my blog. I've told you things that I never thought that I would tell anyone, and I have certainly told you things that hubby thought that I would never tell!
So, with thanks to Beccy who tagged me, what don't you know?
Well let's see........
1. Nothern Ireland
We lived in Northern Ireland for four years from 1995 to 1999. I loved it and I still miss my friends from there, and miss living there.
In December 1998 I spent Christmas day in hospital due to a burst appendix in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve. Hubby had shown great concern for me that day when I woke up with stomach pains. "I think you've got a hangover Sal. Bit of wind perhaps?" I walked round Safeways' that afternoon for a few last minute bits and pieces, only to be greeted by my neighbour. "Come and see the fish counter" she squealed. "They have prawns at half price." Very fortunately had done most of shopping the day before, so left supermarket VERY quickly with a few green veg.
Later that day when children were in bed and Christmas had been mostly attended to I thought that I was going to die.
In truth it was the closest that I have come to it.
From first calling, it took four hours to get any sort of medical attention to the house, but then was rushed to the hospital and operated on to save said life at 3 a.m. on Christmas morning. No keyhole surgery for me. Have big battle scar to show for the trouble. Christmas lunch was a glass of water, followed by a stay in The Ulster Hospital until almost new year on mind blowingly awful heavy duty antibiotics. Hubby was very remorseful for not taking my pains too seriously until it was nearly too late.
We then celebrated Christmas again on 8th January, and left the decorations up until then. "Oh, I'm sure that the bad spirits will forgive you" said my sister in law. BIG Mistake. Hence the blog about 12th Night this year.
I really think about it every year,
On January 14th 1999, just three weeks after my appendicectomy, hubby was in a car accident. Broke his sternum and had threatened heart damage so was put into the cardiac ward. Our third child, daughter number two, aged four, sustained internal injuries from the crash. She had to have major abdominal surgery and we very nearly lost her. Hubby was in The Ulster Hospital on one side of Belfast, DNT was in The Royal on the other side. It was a nightmarish ten days. The sort the you don't actually think has actually happened to you after the event. It did though. During that time our friends showed their true colours. So many people came to our rescue and I have never really felt that I have been able to thank them all enough.
Daughter number three, child number four was six months old at the time of all this. On the night that I went into hospital for my own op, I asked if I could keep her with me. The staff intially said I could, and gave me a side ward. They then realised the seriousness of the damage to my insides, saw what sort of drugs I would need, and changed their minds. So, she went from being an entirely breastfed baby, to hubby going to the maternity wing in the middle of the night to beg some bottles. He then had to scour town for an open chemist on Christmas morning to get some formula.
After coming out of hospital from my appendicectomy I managed to re-establish the breastfeeding. This was partly because I felt that I hadn't finished the job, partly because I enjoyed it, and partly because I WANTED TO CHOOSE when I gave up!
Then when daughter number two, child number three went into hospital, I was allowed to stay, but the baby, daughter number three, child number four, wasn't. They didn't even allow her onto the ward with us. So she stayed with Grandma who came over to NI to help. I sent bottles of expressed milk home, and got glimpses of her when they came to visit.
When I got home I re-established the breastfeeding again. Probably because I am very stubborn at times!
Ironically the trauma that she suffered by being parted from me twice in quick succession - not that we will ever know how much - was possibly responsible for two molars growing though damaged, we are told. That is why she had to have those teeth removed just before Christmas just past.
As well as having given birth to five children, I miscarried two. One between first and second child, and the other between fourth and firth child. Fifth child was planned, as I had felt devastated by the loss of the previous one, but nevertheless, surprisingly, was conceived very quickly after the miscarriage. I think that I had thought that I would probably not have another chance. But I did. And she's still a joy!
I tag Enid who I have recently come across, and who is very funny. Six Word Short Story which can be found via the Our Albion blogsite, because I think that this is a great mental challenge, and that you should all have a go at writing a six word short story, Meredic, Ignorminious and Nicole.
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