I will never ever wipe an old man’s bottom, clean up his mess and tuck him back into bed if he has the cheeky look of a dog with yellow eyes. (Have you heard the old country saying - never trust a dog with yellow eyes? You have now).

I will never fall for it a second time

Okay, okay. I will never fall for it a third time.

I will never ever let anyone call me ‘nursey’ again, well, perhaps, I might let David call me nursey, if we were into that kinky kind of dress up for the night thing.

Maybe.

But no old man is going to call me nursey again and get a response.

Probably a good thing that we don’t see many of those in maternity.

I will never take an overflowing cup of warm sputum sample from an old man or woman again, (especially if he has just called me nursey) nor will I discuss, in any detail, the stringy bits of blood within that sample and then go on my lunch break, ever again.

Can anyone say hello to Huey?

I will never tell weird nursing ghost stories, on night duty, just after dressing a deceased patient again.

Trust me, it is insomnia inducing.

Also, when some smarty smarmy male nurse thinks it’s funny to make creaking noises when you are already freaked out, you WILL run, very fast and very far.

I will never ever work a paediatric shift again, have a small person throw up on me and go home before showering first. I have learnt that, even though you change from uniform to scrubs and clean any vomit off skin with disinfectant hibicleanse, gastro will still follow you home and infect your three girls and husband 24 hours later.

Also, when you have an immune compromised child, it’s okay to refuse to ’special’ a baby with RSV. Death stares can only last as long as the shift. In my case, 10 hours.

I will never ever do a rotation in Birthing Suite again and agree to do all the caesareans. It messes with your beliefs in childbirth.

I will never say yes to the kids having pizza again, when I know that gastro is going around the school.

I will never ever eat something my toddler presents to me without looking at and feeling the offerings first. Okay. You can just use you imagination on that one.

Not. Going. There. Again.

I will never tell anybody who will listen that I could ‘do’ twins again with my eyes closed.

That was like daring the universe.

My Parents in Law came up to visit yesterday and made me feel as though I was a partially competent parent.

My children were all ecstatic to be spending time with them.

We had a roast lamb ( with gluten free gravy).

Ivy had her first (almost) solid poo since…well, I don’t remember really… September 07, I think.

I had  a private party because the toddlers didn’t understand why I was dancing around the house and the big kids thought I was gross and David thought that I had finally lost the plot, when I described, in intimate detail, the consistency of said poo. Either that or he thought I had a very sad life, such was his facial expression! Ok, so maybe it was a little sad and maybe I just didn’t care what anyone else thought, I was par - tay - ing baby! It was just one semi - solid poo amongst the sludge but, hey, it’s a start, wouldn’t you say?

David said I could use some of the fortnight’s income to start stacking up on Winter clothes for the children. Oh I do love me some clothes shopping! Especially for the toddlers.

Two gorgeous friends made my day! (Trish, Mary, please stand up and take a bow).

The bad;

Noah was briefly possessed by my father and proceeded to rant, rave and bark orders towards anyone who cared to walk in his general direction. When he was reprimanded, I’m sure I could hear him mutter under his breath.

Sleep is for the weak and obviously I am not considered weak enough yet.

Four out of my five asthmatics have acute asthma. Crazy, crazy weather that we are having at the moment.

The ugly;

Anyone remember this? The round about way that we had to get an appointment with the derm clinic that turned out to be this Friday coming and not last Friday because the paed was ‘misled’ by the dermatologist.

 *SIGH*

I love living in the boonies. (Sarcasm becomes no one, Tiff).

The dermatology clinic called last night (in the witching hour, of course) to ask us if we had made an appointment at all because Ivy’s name was not on the list! I explained that, yes, we had an appointment, that we had made it two weeks ago!

They proceeded to tell me that because we had no appointment and the dermatologist insisted on seeing us we would just have to come at 8:30 and wait until they could ’slot’ us in!

Despite the fact that we. did. make. an.  appointment!!!!!!

I was told that we should expect a long wait.

With two toddlers.

R  I  G  H  T.

Obviously, this lowly resident did not have children, nor did he have the experience of twin two year old toddlers, who wait for nothing.

Not even a hoity - toity -  la -  dee -  da dermatologist.

The question now is, do we go?

Ivy really needs a review of her medications but waiting around, possibly all day to see this guy who may or may not do that seems… just… dumb.

What would you do?

“Rectovac”.

“Doodoo Deluge”.

“Heavy Sh*t” (as opposed to Trish’s Go Lightly).

“Fire In The Hull”!

“Ring of Fire”.

“Alimentary, my dear doctor”!

“Colonic Draino”.

I know. I need to get a life.