Baggy's daily state!
Depression (Black = really bad/Grey = not great/Blue = okay/Yellow = sunny day): Blue.
Anxiety (From 1 = barely any to 10 = gibbering wreck standard): 6.
Tears: Yes.
Pancakes (Yes/No): Not yet, but she did end up having them last night, so who knows?
Syns (Baggy is allowed 8-15): Yes!
Weight in her terrifying naked state (Stones and pounds): No idea.
Overall day: 🚑
Gloria Gardener and The Domestic Goddess wore Baggy out yesterday at the holiday cottage, so as Baggy wasn't feeling too great this morning, she decided to have a lie in with the furries. She got up at half-nine and had just fed the furries when the phone rang. It was number one furry. Baggy couldn't understand a word he was saying. Clever Bird finally ascertained that he was saying, "I'll need you to meet me at the yard".
"What? Why?"
The line went dead. It rang again.
"Can..........you get.........to...............the..............yard?"
"Yes, but why? What's happened?"
All Freda Fretter could think was that he'd been in his second crash of the week, as he was clearly upset.
"I.................can't.................breathe".
"Where are you? Why don't you call an ambulance?"
"I .........can't..........."
"Okay. I'll get dressed. I'm on my way", said Baggy trying to stay calm.
At best it's a seventy-five minute drive from the house to the yard. Today was not "at best". There were Sunday drivers out in force. Baggy's never seen so many cars on the route before. Hormonal Hannah was going into a mini-meltdown while Freda Fretter tried to make Baggy concentrate on the roads. If it wasn't people driving like snails, it was roads being gritted and moving traffic controls. Two hours later Baggy arrived at the yard. She shot into the office. "Is Calum here?"
"Urrm, no", said his slightly bemused looking boss.
"Can you track him?"
"Yep, he's five minutes away".
"Okay, well I think we might need to call him an ambulance".
Baggy explained.
What seemed like an eternity later (after one false alarm, where Baggy had driven like a loop to get to Calum's lorry, only to realise that it wasn't Calum's lorry), Calum drove onto the yard. He stopped and opened his door. Freda started to panic. He looked ghastly and clearly couldn't breathe. Fortunately, within minutes (if that), the paramedics arrived. Nebuliser. ECG. Blood pressure. SATs 91%). Another ECG. Lots of questions. Chest listened to through those funny things Doctor's use. Taken off the nebuliser. More SATs (93%). At which point, all Freda Fretter could think was that her SATs were 98% when she had a collapsed lung!! Another ECG (tachycardic). Calum saying that he didn't want to go to hospital. More SATs (91%). Hannah trying to stay calm.
"Do you think he needs to go to hospital?" asked Freda.
"I'm 50/50".
"Well I don't want to go", said Calum.
Baggy sighed.
After more discussions, the paramedic got Cal an emergency appointment at the Doctor's. Furry Mama drove him there. Diagnosis: a severe chest infection. Antibiotics, paracetomol and rest prescribed, but if there's any further deterioration Furry Mama must take him straight to A&E. Ninety minutes later they got home again. Calum went straight to bed. Baggy had her first cup of tea of the day - it was 3.00pm. Clever Bird decided to get Hormonal Hannah out of the house for a while, so Furry Mama took the long-suffering Minty Mutt for a walk.
Clever Bird is now trying to figure out whether she can get Creative Clara to the vintage fair tomorrow without Calum's help. Hormonal Hannah is already blaming herself for making Cal work himself into the ground, tomorrow he needs to have a day off, not be up at 5.00am helping Baggy. Clever Bird really thinks it's time that they started practising the "in health" vows, but he's awake again now, and at least he doesn't look quite so ill....................
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