Last Wednesday started out as a normal day. Got up late, rushed around the house, left in a hurry, spilled milk on my jeans once i was already in the car and it was too late to change...yeah, pretty typical. I was minding my business, driving to work, talking to Eli, singing the Stereophonics to him (might as well start him early on the 'phonics) when this moron decided to pull out in front of me at a roundabout. He did not enough have room or time. he was an idiot. and his idiotic move left me with two choices: hit him or slam on my brakes whilst swerving in an attempt to avoid hitting him. i choose the later. next time, i will hit him.
I slammed on my brakes which resulted in the seatbelt pulling much too tight across my stomach and then me hitting the steering wheel. poor little Eli. intense pain and bleeding followed. and a MASSIVE freak out by me also followed. it was not cool. So i drove myself to the hospital closest to work only to discover that they did not have an emergency room and would not see me. I spoke with a doctor who suggested that I wait 45 minutes for the next bus that would take me 25 minutes down the road to a hospital. um, really? that is the best idea you have? no thanks. So back in my car I went. At this point I am crying so hard that I can barely see (probably why the doctor suggested I take the bus) and can barely speak. So what do I do? Call rhys and drive of course. the natural thing to do when all of your abilities are impaired. I get Rhys on the phone, who can barely decipher what I am saying, finally communicate to him what happened and explain that I am driving to Watford to the hospital. so what does Rhys do? Drops everything he is doing and runs off his site. doesn’t stop to grab his bag, talk to his boss, anything...off he goes to the train station to start his 2 hour journey to get to his freaked out, crying uncontrollably, having a melt-down, wife.
The M25 was perfectly clear. I credit Jesus for this miraculous feat first thing in the morning. I make it to Watford in 25 minutes, which is fantastic timing, and straight into the ER I go. I explained to them that i was in a wreck, pregnant, in pain, bleeding and generally just freaking out. Although i am pretty sure they could see all of that for themselves. Within minutes I was whisked away in a wheel chair upstairs to the labour and delivery suite. Apparently anything over 20 weeks they immediately take you to delivery. those words freaked me out even more. everyone was SUPER nice, really reassuring and by the time I got to the delivery room Rhys was frantically calling my phone saying he was at the hospital and couldn’t find me. Again, I credit Jesus with Rhys' amazing time on the trains. usually a two hour journey and somehow he made it in less than half that time.
Although it’s probably a bit too late at this point, but to make a long story short, we heard the heartbeat straight away, had a scan, saw several doctors, had loads of tests and blood work done, and everything came back fine. No problem with me. no problem with little Eli. I had to stay in for a day and night just to make sure, but was released with a clean bill of health. eli is completely fine. And on a side note, I was VERY impressed with the NHS for the entire process. They were quick, efficient, effective, very calming and very thorough. I feel much more at ease about giving birth on the NHS at this point.
So crazy idiot man, if you are reading this, next time you pull a stupid move like you did last week, I will hit you. I hope someone hits you because you deserve to have your car smashed. You caused me lots of tears last week. I would have had much less of an impact had i just continued going at my slow speed and hit your car. Make no mistake, next time I will hit you. and i wont think twice about it.