One hundred and seventy one miles from home.

I am currently laid in bed in a hotel room 171 miles from home, halfway to our ultimate holiday destination, half way to our home for the next nine days, beach on our doorstep, hot tub, relaxation, just what we need, the holiday we have been looking forward to for a year, the first holiday we have chosen the destination of ourselves in ten years, not a charity holiday, a holiday that is all ours.
DeeDee is ill, I have no idea what it wrong with her but something just isn’t right, I always know what’s wrong with her so not knowing is throwing me, scaring me! I called her consultant before Dee finally went to sleep, on her personal mobile number. I’m pretty sure she wasnt overly impressed, I feel so guilty for having called her, on a Friday evening, when she was probably relaxing and enjoying time with her family but I had no idea what else to do, who to speak to that knows Dee well enough to tell me to stop panicking, which isn’t something I do lightly, someone who knows me well enough to know that. We talked through the symptoms, agreed that there was unlikely an infection, maybe viral. I questioned the possibility of raised co2 levels, something I have no idea how I know the symptoms of but I do! Discussed our options and discussed how ultimately the decision on where to go next, what to do, lies with me!
Hospital?

Holiday?

Home?
So here I am, it is 2.50am and I am staring at her sats monitor, watching her heart rate and oxygen levels jumping around. And I am thinking. Hospital, holiday or home?
And I am sad, I am so, so sad! I’m sad that I have to make the decision, I’m sad that that burden is on my shoulders, I’m sad that I dared allow myself to believe that we were able to be like you. That we could book a holiday and go off and enjoy it with no fear, no worry. I am sad that if I choose wrong the outcome could be catastrophic, I’m sad that I face having to look my amazing, excited children in the eyes and tell them that there will be no holiday, I’m sad that if I choose holiday it will no longer be a holiday, I will be on tenterhooks, watching, waiting!
I am just so sad! My eyes are swollen from tears, tears that have fallen silently in a strange bathroom 171 miles from home.
Just this once, just for nine days, I wanted to shake off that cloak, feel my shoulders loosen, I wanted to relax, I wanted some semblance of normal!
So here I lay, at 2.52 in a bed in a hotel room 171 miles from home, watching the sats monitor, tears falling silently, awaiting the sun coming up when I will have to decide!
Hospital?

Holiday?

Home?

One thought on “One hundred and seventy one miles from home.”

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