Diary of A Modern Gran | Granny Goes To A & E
Wow. What a week. I hardly know where to start. So I’ll go back to the beginning. It’s the evening. I’ve just finished writing a chapter of my new novel and am about to settle down in front of a TV drama with my husband and dog.
Then the phone goes. “Mum,” says my daughter. I instantly know from her voice that something is up. “Can you come with me to casualty, please? I rang 111 about Rose’s tummy pains and they said I should get her checked at A&E and that I should bring someone with me in the car.”
A shock of fear and apprehension shoots through me. Does it ever go away when you have children and grandchildren? No.
I can still clearly remember various emergency dashes to casualty, including my then six-year-old who got concussion after falling three inches off the sofa during a tussle with his older siblings. Then there was the phone call from school to say my eldest son had a pain in his back. It turned out to be pneumonia. My life as a journalist – and the people I have interviewed – have also made me constantly aware of all the things that can go wrong.
My poor daughter is really worried and I totally understand. Rose’s pain might be appendicitis and she’s clearly not herself. Meanwhile, it’s little George’s bedtime so we make a quick instant decision that I’ll go with my daughter to hospital, while my son-in-law stays at home, with him.
I sit in the back of the car with a very pale Rose. When we get to casualty, it’s packed. The world is here. Or so it seems. It’s enough to make your heart bleed. There’s a woman in a wheelchair hiding under a blanket, trying to sleep. A young dad is walking his toddler up and down, comforting her with a wonderful, gentle patience. A group of bikers come in, helmets tucked under arms. One has clearly injured his leg but is laughing and joking away with his mates. Oh yes – and we are told that there is a wait of about five and a half hours.
Rose is in her pyjamas and dressing gown. The drinks machine isn’t working. But the camaraderie is uplifting. One of the biker girls starts chatting to Rose which distracts her a bit from her tummy ache. Someone else brings a cup of water to the woman in the wheelchair. We all give reassuring looks to the dad, walking his sobbing daughter up and down.
We wait and we wait. I remind myself that we’re lucky to even be here. There are so many places in the world where this wouldn’t be possible. Rose drops off to sleep, clutching Rabbit whom she’s had since she was a baby. He helped comfort her during the first eight months of her life when she was constantly in and out of hospital.
Eventually, just before midnight, we are called in. The doctor seems young. Mind you, in my book, that’s anyone under 50 now! He asks questions which instantly make me feel we are in safe, capable hands. He talks to Rose too in the same way (acknowledging Rabbit) and feels her tummy.
He doesn’t think it’s appendicitis. Phew. Then he talks to us about what to do next and we are allowed home with various instructions on what to look out for and what to do if such and such happens.
It’s strange getting back at such a late hour. It all feels very unreal. I’m relieved, but at the same time I hope Rose really is alright. The following day, I am due to fly to Madrid. Should I still go? I’ve been asked to write a short story writing course, and now I’m being filmed for five consecutive days, reading it out loud and giving tips. It’s for an arts online company and I’ll tell you more about it when it comes out, just in case you fancy writing a short story yourself.
Meanwhile, I’m torn, rather like I was as a young mother when I had to cancel work commitments because the children were ill. But Rose seems a bit better in the morning. If she wasn’t, it would be different. So I catch my flight.
I can’t wait to talk to my grandchildren on FaceTime when I arrive. What a difference a day makes. Rose is looking much more like herself which makes me recall some advice someone gave me when my three were little. Children can go down very fast but they can often get better very quickly too.
On the other hand, you just can’t take risks so it was the right thing to get her checked. Nowadays, as you may well know, there’s a 48-hour rule about not going back to school after sickness and diarrhoea. So my daughter has had to work from home. Again, I feel guilty that I’m not there to help.
Mind you, this new world I find myself in this week is truly fascinating. In the past, as a journalist, I have given live interviews on television, and I still do so on radio. This is a little different. There are cameras surrounding me above my head to read my stories in front of me – hope my eye bags don’t look too bad! – and even at the side. I have to position my notebook in exactly the right place on the desk for the camera (one of the assistants actually tapes them in place). And although the brilliant producer gives me prompts, I have to memorise short bursts of my script.
I don’t know about you, but my memory is pretty shocking nowadays. I hope it’s just because I’ve got a lot to remember. But I don’t like the fact that I sometimes can’t think of the word for something that I know perfectly well. Do you ever feel like that?
At the end of each day, I’m absolutely exhausted. Honestly, I don’t know how these presenters and actresses do it! There’s a lot to remember, but it’s also very exciting! I even have a dressing room with Hollywood lights around it! “I’d like one of those,” says Rose when I show her on FaceTime.
Then the following day, my husband tells me that he’s looking after Rose and George after school. My daughter has a hair appointment round the corner. It’s the first time he’s been in charge! So we all have a good chat on FaceTime. Rosie is munching a chocolate biscuit – she’s clearly much better – although George has got a bump on his head from games in the playground. Honestly, if it’s not one thing, it’s another…
The filming ends soon, but I’m staying on a couple more days because my eldest son lives two hours away in northern Spain. He is going to come down by train and we’re going to explore Madrid. I love having one-to-one time with each of my adult children. It’s very special.
We’re going to do the usual things like the Prado Museum. I can’t wait. And then I’m looking forward to getting back, having a lovely natter with my daughter and feeling my grandchildren’s arms around me.
Ask Agony Gran
“I’ve got a good friend who I’ve known ever since our children were babies. My son and daughter have got children of their own from the different partners.
“But my friends’ children don’t have children of their own.
“The other day, she told me that she didn’t think we should see so much of each other because I’m always talking about my grandchildren and that it makes her feel left out. She also accused me of being self-centred. I feel really hurt.
“It’s possibly true that I do talk a lot about my grandchildren but then again I’m a fairly hands-on granny. Am I meant to ignore them or make sure I don’t talk about them to my friend just because she doesn’t have any?” Name withheld
Jane says:
I do feel for you. I wonder if it helps to say that you are not alone. I have had experiences like this myself and I also know others who have. However, your friend seems to see this as an “all or nothing” situation. I can understand that it must be very hurtful to be accused of being self-centred. But bear in mind that sometimes we say things in anger.
On the other hand, she might well be feeling envy – especially if she’s been hoping for grandchildren herself.
If it was me, I’d have a frank chat. You could try telling her that you’re sorry if she thinks you talk about your grandchildren all the time, but they are an important part of your life.
You might also tell her that you’d be sad to lose her friendship.
On the other hand, that not might not be the case. Some friendships don’t last forever. Our lives can go off in different directions and we might no longer feel the bond we had in the first place.
Maybe this is a waking up call for both of you. It could even strengthen your friendship if you realise you don’t want to lose each other.
Whichever direction you go in, this is clearly a crossroads in your lives. If I were you, I’d leave the door open. It could be a shame to close the door in haste on a relationship which has lasted so long. Good luck.
If you’d like to share your problem, please email us at moderngran@dcthomson.co.uk.
The Funny Things They Say
“When my grandson was about five, he loved looking through my photo albums. ‘Grandma,’ he said, ‘when you were a little girl, did you live in black and white?’”
Thanks to reader Judith who sent this in. We absolutely loved it! Please send us your “funnies” by emailing them to moderngran@dcthomson.co.uk.
Your Feedback
Thanks to regular reader Wendy who sent us this email.
Joseph Coelho and Wendy’s grandchildren
“Please remember that libraries host many free activities for children during school holidays. We were very privileged to see the Children’s Laureate Joseph Coelho at Stourbridge Library. His visit was part of his library marathon where he aims to visit every library service in the country. He read poems from his book and an extract from one of his novels. All in all, a lovely morning of fun and laughter that only a library can provide.”
Thanks also to Maggie from Cornwall who got in touch after reading last week’s Agony Gran question about treating grandchildren fairly, if one set lives further away than the other.
“I have three sets of grandchildren. One is next door and the other two are two hours and three hours away. I’m very conscious of this so I set up a gran and grandchildren Zoom session once a week. I invite them all to join – including the ones next door – because that way they can get to know their cousins better. I have to confess that I didn’t know how to do Zoom until my 16-year-old granddaughter showed me. She sets up the link and all I have to do is click on it. I also invite the ‘far-away’ grandchildren to visit me every school holiday. In fact, we set the dates a year ahead. It’s a bit of a squash in my smallish house but they seem to love it and it means we all stay in touch.”
Where To Take the Grandchildren
Step into Anglo-Saxon Winchester in 878 AD and enjoy an interactive performance for all the family. You’ll learn fascinating facts about people who lived in this extraordinary time when the Vikings were defeated by Alfred the Great.
You’ll find it at The Brooks shopping centre, Upper Level, Upper Brook St, Winchester SO23 8QY. Tel. 01962 454505
Thanks to reader Pete who sent in this recommendation. If you’d like to suggest a day out for the family, please email us at moderngran@dcthomson.co.uk.
Children’s Book of the Week
Each week I’ll recommend a brilliant book to enjoy with your grandchildren.
This time I’ve selected I Am Oliver The Otter by Pam Ayres, Illustrated by Nicola O’Byrne, £6.49 (Macmillan Children’s Books)
Oliver is an otter who lives in the river. Then one day, he meets Ottilie, another otter. We loved this story by one of our most loved national treasures. I have had a soft spot for Pam Ayres ever since I was asked to interview her in the 80s by a national newspaper. My eldest was just a toddler and I didn’t want to leave him with anyone. So my then-husband drove me down to her house with the intention of taking him for a stroll while I did my job. However, Pam came out to greet us and invited them to go in and play with her son. What a kind, wonderful gesture. Thank you, Pam.
