3 years ago this week, I had the first sign that things were not quite as simple as they looked with Bonzo.
I know it is 3 years, as it all started at my pretend Danish mate’s house for her rather gorgeous boy’s 4th birthday. (plus it was probably Bonzo’s first trip out, being social since he had come home)
Whilst eating (wolfing down at speed) his party tea, Bonzo started making some really, rather peculiar sounds. Guttural, pig like, but not especially loud. I put it down to the amount & speed he had eaten. On the way home from the party he continued making these noises – enough to make me cover the floor with towels when I put him to bed as I assumed he was going to bring back all the lovely party food in a fine array of colours.
No. Not a sausage (or crisp, sandwich……). The next morning all seemed fine and life continued.
The next day we met another new friend. New to Bonzo, old friend of mine, and I was also meeting my future god-daughter for the first time. I was really looking forward to a quiet day at home with an old friend.
Well, that didn’t happen.
All went well at first. Bonzo and Friend 1 played beautifully, and Spanner & I chatted and cooed at Friend 2.
Then, whilst playing chase (in my very small flat), Bonzo started making the same strange noises, within minutes was bent over double and clearly in distress/pain etc.
So, after a quick chat with Spanner’s husband (handily a doctor) and a quick (very quick) chat with our GP, off to the doctors we went. By the time we got there, Bonzo was screaming. By this point he must have been in agony as as we all know, he won’t voluntarily moan.
Anyway, the screaming was handy, as we got seen straight away. By this time he was rigid in my arms and ghostly white.
Now, explaining to the GP that you know nothing about the child, no history, and this is the first trip to the doctors isn’t easy, but she quickly grasped the situation and started diagnosing. She was guessing it might be his appendix, but that it might be ears or throat. Having given him some large amount of painkillers and me instructions to get him to casualty if it hadn’t stopped within an hour, home we went.
So, (and this is the funny bit). Into the flat we went, where Spanner had kindly got lunch ready. Bonzo jumped straight up at the table and ate 2 bowls of chilli & apple crumble.
So, drama over & the conclusion. Bonzo had advanced tonsillitis, undiagnosed/unnoticed by me. He had eaten through it, not moaned and not had more than a mild temperature. He was then on antibiotics for about 3 mths as infection after infection followed. Still, he never moaned, complained or admitted he felt ill.
So – 3 years on. Have things changed? No. Have we progressed? Yes. But that is only because I am more vigilant. I watch his throat when eating and generally monitor his wellbeing.
3 years on since he scared the life out of me, the GP and the old ladies in the waiting room, he still hasn’t learnt he can tell me he isn’t feeling well. He still won’t call me during the night.
What has improved though is his diet, his exercise, and so his general health. So, illness is thankfully much rarer.
I still wait, with hope for the day he says, ‘Mummy, I don’t feel well’. I think it’s going to be a long wait.