Monday morning saw Mum and Dad in the waiting room
of one of the Sheffield hospitals for mum to have a CVS, I won’t go into all
the gory details, but basically it was a test to see if the baby Mum was
pregnant with also had DMD like me and if it had, what would they do? Mum,
having worked with DMD boys in their teens had no illusions as to the effects
of DMD she wasn’t wearing rose coloured spectacles as they say! Dad wasn’t
sure, so they decided to go ahead with the test anyway. Also they wanted to try
again to get some blood out of Mum to see if she was actually a carrier of DMD,
or if I was a mutation (sounds like something out of Alien!) Actually I came to
realise over the following years that people in hospitals are obsessed with
sticking needles in you and taking out whole armfuls of blood; they just do it
by default!
Anyhow, the test was done, and they actually got
some blood out of Mum. Mum then had to go back home, go to bed, because the CVS
could have caused a spontaneous abortion, and wait for the results. You will
come to realise, if you carry on reading my blog, that patience is certainly
NOT one of Mum’s virtues!
So, basically that really was agony for Mum.
It has just dawned on me that I have not actually
explained who the Odd Socked Octopus is! I guess, however, that most of you
will have already realised; but for those of you who struggle when one of their
two brain cells has gone walkabout. The Odd Socked Octopus is the name we all
came to refer to my Mum by. An octopus, because she always had loads of things
on the go at the same time, work, children, her parents and mother in law,
animals, keeping fit, gardening, being on lots of committees and so on and on,
she was NEVER still.
Odd socked, because, as a family, we very rarely
had a matching pair of socks! Our washing machine used to eat them! (Mum once
actually rang Dad up at work, very excited, because a whole pair of his socks
had come out of the washing machine) Indeed Roger came to take a perverse pride
(he could be very perverse) in always wearing odd socks for his rugby matches
even though when he was captaining Derbyshire they took a dim view of it.
Oh heck, as usual, I’ve gone off on a tangent! Any
road up, so the OSO (work it out!) had to sit in bed and wait to find out if
the baby was affected and if she was a carrier. The news came through, four
agonising days later, that the baby was a boy, but was not affected, and that
Mum was not a carrier of DMD.
I should
also point out, that a couple of weeks earlier, Mum had a scan to check the
baby, to be told it was twins. She was more upset I think because she had just
sold one of the two cots they had, thinking they would no longer need them!
However, going back for another scan a couple of weeks later, there was only
one. I reckon as Alistair (he was the baby) who was born the following May
weighing ten pounds five ounces actually ate the other one and that it’s still
probably there inside him to this day! But I will tell you more about that
another time.
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