Saturday, 29 September 2012

BAM.... well, actually it would be more accurate to say SLAM.

So after the saga of FifIII and having Paul back to help with the morning. I was delighted to take the girls to school on Friday to end the Egg Traumas. Phoebe ran on ahead with FifIII whilst I got Clara out of the car and collecting all the various bags required for a day at school. All was going so well until I closed the back door.... alas my little finger was still in it.

Now I am not a wuss, I have had 2 children with minimum of pain relief and can cope with stubbing a toe without requiring copious amounts of swearing. But I screamed... loudly. Probably not helped by Clara's one and only comment on the situation of:

"You shouldn't have done that Mummy."

No shit sherlock.... I think that wins the prize for understatement! Anyway, naturally no bugger came to help me and so I got my finger out and cradling my hand Clara and I headed in through the gates. As we walked past the teacher outside I literally couldn't hold in the tears any longer and burst into floods on poor Ms H! They were awesome though, took over getting Clara to class for me and got me an ice pack for my hand (which was rather impressively swollen by this point!) then went to make sure the girls had settled ok for me. I managed to drive home one handed and took myself up to the walk in centre where the nurse looked at it, checked I could bend it and declared it Not Broken. Phew. Of course they had no plasters to dress the cuts for me so I staggered back home to dress it myself and gobble many many painkillers. Currently I have splinted it to my ring finger to help support it as it is still flipping painful!

The upside was that the mahoosive amount of pain I was (am still) in allowed me to let out all the emotions from the week. Poor Mum got to field a sobbing phone call from me. The fact that Phoebe's ASD has been confirmed really hit home and the sore finger was just the straw that broke the camel's back I guess. Whilst it is what I wanted, I think a part of me would have liked to have been proved wrong. Having to admit something isn't right with your child is a really really hard thing to do and having a Doctor confirm that something isn't right always comes as a shock.

Don't get me wrong, I don't want to change anything and I am still relieved things have been confirmed. It is going to make Phoebe's life so much easier in the long run. But she is still my baby and always will be and I want life to be as fab as it can be and this is a hurdle she will have to manage all her life. People will try and judge her on her problems and I know that some people won't be able to see past the quirks to see the awesome child she really is!

Oh. And adding insult to (did I mention painful) injury Fifi has come home from the weekend.... hmph!

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