A Bit Higher than Whale Shit.

5 years ago today, two mediocre CD collections became one.  Cheers!


That’s right. 5 glorious years! Or, more accurately, 3.5 peaceful years followed by 18 months of Hissed Squabble. Although, Hubby did get absolutely roaring drunk on our wedding night, in direct contravention of previously issued instructions, which earned him a (restrained) telling-off from me and a right royal bollocking from his mother before the reception was over. Neither of which he remembers.

(Our honeymoon, incidentally, was taken in London and – because the Hairies are a little different – the middle east. Jordan is reasonably straightforward to visit, and we only got a gun pointed at us once, courtesy of John’s attempt to photograph military installations. Petra was utterly out-of-this-world superb. [I do have an ancient history degree though, so I get inordinately excited about Old Stuff.] The Dead Sea was amazing, although the 5 star hotel probably helped. Spending a week in Jordan was also, of course, something of a speechifying gift of gold to John’s Best Man.)

John managed to produce an anniversary card, having purchased one during his annual trip to WH Smiths last month, but I have been acutely short on retail opportunities this week, so Phoenix and Hubby both lost out. This is unlike me, but I have been Upset.

Harry is a fair bit better today, and thank you all so very much for your kind concern. He slept in between us for several hours last night, and actually picked up some of his toys this morning. He also accepted my (greatly adored) mum as a substitute on cuddling duty while John and I went out for lunch and a much-needed break. 

Yesterday was appalling from start to finish. The Delightful Doctors Next Door are away (sob!) and I ended up taking him to our doctor’s surgery twice yesterday because I was so distraught. Harry had slept for a couple of hours before his morning appointment, and was consequently fairly calm when I first took him in. I only knew of the two big tongue ulcers at that point, and the GP said he had no way of pinning down what virus it was, but that Harry ‘looked ok’  – which he did at that point – and said he was surprised the hospital had prescribed anti-virals ‘this early on; we usually wait.’

By 4pm I had discovered Harry had developed dozens and dozens more ulcers, absolutely covering his tongue, his throat, the roof of his mouth, his lips, and even a few on his face. He had become a picture of misery and pain, gazing at me in bewilderment, pawing piteously at his mouth, clinging to my neck like grim death, and screaming raggedly through clamped-shut lips. His nappies were bone-dry all day. He roared all the way through the appointment with the second doctor, who confidently diagnosed a herpes-type virus common to under-twos, and told me that anti-virals achieve very little and wouldn’t work ‘this far past the initial onset’ anyway. Hmmm.

She told me, in essence, that Harry would just have to Deal With It. When I explained that the only pain relief I could successfully administer was 6-hourly paracetamol suppositories, and that this was rather like trying to keep his pain ocean back with a broom, she told me – fairly sharply – ‘That’s all you can do. You just have to get through it with him. I know it’s hard. I lost 5 pounds when my daughter had it’. 

So. There was nothing else, apparently, in the entire pharmaceutical range, that she would prescribe to reduce Harry’s pain.  She may well have been right. I don’t know. But my child had his poor face buried in my shoulder, his arms thrown tight around my neck, his legs drumming on my lap, howling his distress, anguish and torment straight into my soul, and I feel there may have been hate in my eyes.

But! Today he has definitely improved. The lap has been left for brief periods of time (I can pee again!) and he has eaten a few pasta twists (hurrah!) for tea. Received wisdom tells us that this is a 10-dayer, and there’s certainly no way on God’s green earth that those ulcers will heal before the middle of next week, so I expect he will continue to tell us about his suffering, poor lad. I am planning a trip out for more new toys (he’s already had a large lapful of them) tomorrow if he seems up to it.


New distractions, lots of cuddles and small lard torpedos bunged up his bum are all I can do for him right now.

On a different note, this link may be in slightly dubious taste if you are TTC, but Hubby is finding http://www.digyourowngrave.com/the-great-sperm-race/ fairly addictive currently. Hence I need to vacate the computer chair, stat, before he implodes. I will tell you about the young doctor I puzzled and my gynae referral (oh, aren’t you just completely agog!) tomorrow.

17 Responses

  1. Poor lamb, that sounds hideous. I’d be behaving in a similar manner if I had that many ulcers and I’m a grown woman!

  2. The wedding picture is gorgeous, I love the dress. The sleeping pic is pitiful and while I’m glad you took him to the pediatrician, WHAT A BITCH! How dare she? I’m amazed you didn’t deck her. You need a new ped. ‘Nuff said.

  3. Agreed with Nina! Your husband isn’t bad-looking either 🙂 –don’t tell him I said that.

    I’m a US-ican, so I don’t know much about the NHS. Do you have your own pediatrician or is it just luck of the draw/somebody else’s choice? Because I really think those bastards need firing. I want to wrap my pediatricians up in a box with a bow and send them over to you. You can send yours back over here and we’ll make them, I don’t know, negotiate HMO red tape all day long.

    That photo! More sniffling.

  4. 1. Congratulations!!!
    2. I’m glad Harry was able to eat and play a little, but I’m sure you can’t wait until he’s *ALL* better. It’s so hard to have a little one be ill.
    3. That game is hard. I keep sizzling my spermatozoa.

  5. Happy Anniversary! Glad Harry is a little better – I hope he’s back to teasing you with one time word usage shortly.

  6. Poor baby. And poor Mommy. I’m so sad you are going through this. I hope each day gets better from here on out.

    And, Happy Anniversary! And, that’s really all I have right now. 🙂

  7. In his mouth and down his throat? Dear god! Hang in there, all of you. Sending evil looks your doctor’s way too.

  8. Happy Anniversary. What a gorgeous couple and picture you made on your day, and your honeymoon sounds like the trip of a lifetime. I so hope that Harry feels better every day, and that you his illness passes very quickly.

  9. Hoping Harry is on the mend now – poor thing. It never ceases to amaze me that even post-op they only recommend cycling paracetamol and ibuprofen for babies.

    You two look lovely – happy anniversary! Jealous about your trip to Jordan – it is somewhere I have always fancied going.

  10. What a lovely photo. I like Hubby’s vest in particular; very Marimekko.

    It astonishes me that there’s *no* other painkiller that can be given to Harry. And that your pediatrician was, uh, less than empathetic. I hope he heals up soon. I swear, if I had those sores around my mouth I’d be shooting from belltowers by now. Poor little bug.

  11. Your posts often make me feel slightly motion sick from the highs and the lows.

    I give you:

    1) Squeeeeeeeeeeeee! Beautiful dress! Great hair!
    2) “Wuv, Twu Wuv!”
    3) Oh no – the ulcers. Poor lamb.
    4) Oh God – don’t think about HFF and lambs.
    5) That pediatrician? She may be right, but WTF? Does she want us to hurl a Fergie-sponsored Weight Watchers cereal bar at her in solidarity for losing 5 pounds?
    6) That photo! That boy! Poor wee one!

    And now I’m here. Confused, possibly needing carbs and/or alcohol, and thinking about that Great Sperm Race show a few weeks ago, the one that said our vaginas are toxic, an idea which frankly makes me laugh while simultaneously calling the salad bar off limits for good.

  12. Wait, she lost 5 pounds when her daughter had the same thing? And she STILL can’t show a little empathy? Jeez. Talk about Smug Survivor syndrome. I have an aunt who talks like this to pregnant women about labour – ‘oh yes, I ripped here to here too. You just have to deal with it. You’ll never enjoy sex again.’ Bitch.

    Poor Harry. Glad he’s better. OY BLEEDIN’ VEY but that ulcer virus is a beast.

    You look so very lovely in your wedding photograph.

  13. You got married in a real wedding dress!

    Trust me to be the dodgy one out who didn’t go farther than her local shopping centre for the first summer drss that fit and be done with it.

    Poor Harry. Primary oral HSV is a bugger. Not literally, that’s the suppositories. And yes, there is probably better stuff out there.


  14. Oh, my 3 year old had this virus when she was 18 months old. Her entire mouth was covered in blisters and ulcers and she was a mess. I had my 2 otherkids and a husband (now ex husband) who worked away for 8 weeks at a time. It was a very hard week for sure. I ended up giving Amy a bottle with some liquid vitamin in it. She lost 4 kilos in a week when she had it. Once the blisters and ulcers scab up it is a bit worse because they crack open when they try to feed. So, you have a few more bad days yet 😦 Good luck with it and I hope it all improves. Not a nice thing at all.

  15. I love it when you post your wedding photos; you are so beautiful! I want your hair so badly.

    When I told Sarge about Harry and how there was nothing to be done for him, he was so. angry. on your behalf. He muttered about NHS being like the American VA healthcare system and how small children deserve better care. I believe he would have grabbed our pediatrician and flown him over to see you if said doctor had not been in China this week. We’re both thinking of you and Harry and hoping he’s feeling much better very soon.

  16. Belated happy anniversary. What a gorgeous photo. You both look stunning! Poor little Harry, I hope he’s feeling better soon. I remember a friend of mine’s twins both getting this kind of virus at the same time a few years back. I think it was very much a case of riding it out, but it was pretty torturous for both toddlers and parents.

  17. Congratulations on the anniversary. My five-year anniversary was the first time my now three-year-old was ever left with a babysitter, so I remember it well. We waited til she was already in bed to leave, so she didn’t even know she was being babysat. And then we talked about her the entire time we were gone.

    Can I just tell you how much ridiculous fun my husband had with that sperm race? I suck at things that require coordination like that, so I made him play…once. Now he wants me to email him the link so he can play on his own. Seriously.

    Hope Harry’s doing better.


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