Both of my Grandsons have been in hospital during the last couple of weeks. Martin had his arm operation and Harry had suspected meningitis. Such a worry for their parents and I would have loved to have seen them both. I doubt that I'd have been allowed in with such a cold but it doesn't make it any easier. Thankfully, they are both home now.
My worries were increased last weekend by a confession from Brian. It seems that he's had a lump in his throat for the past three months and didn't know how to tell me. He hates to upset me and decided to keep it to himself. We've had such an awful week. Tears, rows and times that were so terrifying, I can't describe it. I've never seen him so frightened in all the years that we have been together.
I decided that enough was enough this morning and practically dragged him to the clinic. Two steps forward and one back which would have been well funny under different circumstances. He was shaking like a leaf when the doctor called him in and I went outside for some air and to say a few prayers. I fully expected a trip by ambulance to the hospital and was ready to phone Maz to ask her to collect Clio and keep her overnight.
Fifteen minutes later he was out. A severe throat infection and not the diagnosis he'd imagined. I didn't know whether to kill him on the spot or to hug him! He's well dosed up with the shed load of tablets he's had today and sound asleep.
