I found myself quite discombobulated at being pampered somewhat as I came to after the general anaesthetic. I'm not used to being looked after in that sort of way. Not that I'm not 'looked after' in every other way, but a soliticous bedside manner wasn't one of the many virtues that drew me to my Dearly Beloved. Good fortune has meant I haven't been sick that much in our married life, so he hasn't had much practice at the Florence Nightingale routine. He'll do what needs to be done to help, but I don't exactly get the forehead stroking and bedside attention. (And I suppose we don't exactly have a supply of heated blankets at home to tuck anyone up in!)

The lack of any mother/child role reversal in that department goes without saying, although to be fair, my youngest would probably make an effort if I looked particularly unwell. I mean, she runs to comfort me when the rest of them (Dad included) are stirring me up.

I thanked the nurse, and she smiled and said that as a mother she knew most mums didn't often get the chance to be fussed over. So she makes sure she does. Did I have even the tiniest bit of pain? - cramping? - here, here have some painkillers. Meh, didn't get to more than a 5/10... and basically (after they gave me painkillers) last night., the spot where the needle went in my wrist was the only thing that has given me any discomfort in any way! I will forgive the anaesthetist because he was French, and he could probably have just talked to me in French instead of giving me the pre-op woozy stuff that he told me was 'just like a gin and tonic'. (I told him I would have preferred a nice French wine, but next thing I knew I was waking up after it was all over.)

My doctor appeared briefly and hazily beside me as they were waking me up, saying 'everything went well'. We waited to see her afterwards, as was arranged, but she was caught up in surgery, so all I got was the message 'no polyps', and she'll talk to me on the phone today. That was a bit frustrating, as it meant we had waited for over an hour for no reason - when we could have been on the road. We didn't get home till nearly 8pm.. thank goodness for mobile phones - with the kids at home by themselves. I thought I had the continuing phone communications about dinner under control, but it is amazing how 'forgetful' a 14 yr old can be once she's had her own dinner. Mum and Dad's schnitzels put on the tray and put into oven when I made the call to do so? Oops. "I forgot." Gee thanks kid.

I realised as I sat on the lounge letting Marc cook our dinner, that I am not used to being waited on. Not saying I'm any paragon of domestic virtue, as you know, but I find it really hard to just sit and watch someone do what is normally 'my job'. Jobs will go undone, but I'm not good at sitting back and watching someone else do it. Especially when I don't feel especially sick.. I was just post-GA tired and vaguely wonky.

I slept ok, and this morning jumped up to iron uniforms, and yell a hundred times till Caitlin finally got up. (Standard morning procedure.) Alison woke up teary and with a sore throat, so I told her to stay in bed. Then I thought 'stuff it'. I had a general anaesthetic yesterday, I'm going back to bed. Caitlin can look after herself and I told Zoe to write herself out a lunch order - she really is capable of getting herself ready and off to school without me.

So Caitlin made the bus as always, goodness knows how she gets ready in half an hour (but I am sure I didn't hear her clean her teeth.) Zoe made her bus as well, but when Marc went downstairs, he found her lunch order on the bench. How typical - she writes it out, then leaves it behind, however she does that when I am up and supposedly on Mummy duty. Oh well, a chance for an infrequent Daddy-visit to the school to drop it off to her on his way to work.

Post op advice is no strenuous activity for 48 hours, which rules out my Saturday morning bikeriding insanity, but on the plus side I'm sure it also encompasses vacuuming. Two weeks of no other sort of activity of the type that one might have been looking forward to after their husband had been away for a week, but them's the breaks I guess.

The hospital discharge advice lists possible side effects of anaesthesia, which include dizziness, nausea, pain from the surgery, and more general muscle pain. I seem to have gotten away scot free on the first three, and I gave myself the last one anyway with my riding and weights on Wednesday.

Alison isn't too bad here; we are both having a slothful day (discounting the three loads of washing I've hung out). Till Zoe gets home and I have to take her to her tennis lesson (and pick up something for dinner.)

And till Cait gets home and I give her an invoice for $185 that I just discovered she has racked up on our phone bill! I went to pay the bill this morning and freaked at how much it was. Looked up the breakdown of calls and there were a heap of long and expensive calls to two mobile phone numbers. I rang the first one, but it was 'switched off'. The second one was answered by a teenage girl's voice. I tried asking 'who's that?', but wisely she suggested I had a wrong number.

"Hang on... are you a friend of Caitlin's?"

"Oh, yes, hang on I'll put her on." [obviously recess time at school]. Bingo.

"Caitlin? Hello. Yes, this is your mother."
I question her on the first number, and it turned out to be the same friend's old phone number.

"You've racked up nearly $200 worth of phone calls on our home phone! Hour long phone calls to a mobile number - what were you thinking? "

They come to more than half the total call costs on our home line - about $185. I don't know that we have specifically said 'don't make long calls to mobiles', but we have generally made an issue of avoiding calls from our landline to mobiles if possible. And never imagined when she rang her friend that it wasn't on her home phone number.

Any suggestions on an appropriate... consequence?

Looks like I'm straight back on Parenting Duty, at any rate.

Labels: daily, parenting