Sometimes days just don’t go as planned… One moment life is full of all the tasks that we feel so obligated and obsessed about and the next… well… all that falls away into a meaningless muddle when faced with an emergency.
Let me fill you in… but before I do….can I say how much I have loved our ‘long v’s short’ hair chat… I have read every comment and every email, several times, and want to say thank you for being such engaged readers… this is what blogging is all about… it’s not just me doing all the talking all the time.
Do you know what I mean by mother’s intuition? I don’t know where it comes from, but we mothers have it… It is good and bad because this innate sense is not always the bearer of good tidings… If you are a regular reader of French Essence you will remember that I wrote about my son who is about to compete in an Iron Man triathlon in Nice… this Sunday as it happens… he has been training intensively for this arduous event… for more that nine months.
Wednesday morning I received a text… ‘Not feeling great… might go to the Dr…’ My son is the master of the understatement… He is already in Nice to prepare for the race and we had planned to drive down on Saturday and spend the weekend… He went to the Dr, was prescribed antibiotics for an infection and told me all would be ok… All this information was relayed by phone so I never really saw for myself how he was. This is a boy who is incredibly resilient, never complains or fusses… just gets on and does.
By Wednesday night I had that creeping feeling inside… I couldn’t concentrate… or sleep… I knew something was wrong. Very early on Thursday morning I asked him if he was any better… ‘Not really’… ‘But I will be fine’, came the reply… I don’t know why but I insisted he visit the emergency room at the hospital… It may seem like a dramatic reaction and one that came out of the blue… but that mother’s intuition has saved the day for me countless times and I wasn’t going to start fighting her now.
To cut a long story short and to spare you the gory details… he is very sick and was admitted to hospital that day. He is on a drip, a multitude of fast acting cocktails that should fix him up. He will be there for a few more days and the likelihood of him competing in the ‘Iron Man’ this Sunday is now looking more and more unlikely. It would appear that all the training has weakened his immunity and the combination of a small cut, bacteria and a suppressed system has enabled an infection to run rife… Total disaster… but he will recover and that is all that counts.
He is devastated for all the obvious reasons but he is such a stoic… He still won’t admit that he can’t compete on Sunday… and he is looking for the next available ‘Iron Man’ slot in Europe. I have no doubt he will complete his triathlon in the next few months… it just might not be in Nice.
So that’s where I have been the last few days… in Antibes… Juan-les-Pins… not lazing on the sun beds and dreamily looking out to sea… but negotiating the French hospital system and putting my moderate French into medical mode. Why is it that all the major dramas in my life happen in another language?
The French hospital in Antibes is an unusual place…a myriad of 70’s interconnecting buildings that have seen better days. For all the emphasis on French health care I am rather surprised at the state of the hospital… but not the care… that has been exemplary… and the kindest bunch of medicos I have ever met. That’s the French way… concern for the emotional side of his illness. For every ml of medicine that they administer there is an equal dose of concern and discussion for his wellbeing. It is as if they were missing out on Sunday’s big race themselves… The nurses, the doctors and all the hospital staff are feeling his disappointment and providing words of comfort… I am not sure he understands too much… but he understands their sentiments. They are so concerned for us… the parents… and every time I wander out into the corridor to stretch my legs… we chat… like old friends. It is strange sensation because I have always thought the business of hospitals to be matter of fact… in and out… a flurry of clip boards, bright lights and over worked professionals… not here in Antibes.
Have a happy weekend and see you all next week… and again, thank you for being the most fabulous readers a girl could have… you are all truly appreciated… xv
For your ‘French Riviera’ Library… Spending these last few days on the coast has spiked my imagination to learn and see more…
French Riviera: Living Well was the Best Revenge
Gardens of the French Riviera… my very favourite…
Edith Wharton’s French Riviera
Recommendations from my lovely readers…
When the Riviera was Ours... from Dash
Sarah and Gerald from Lisa..
Everybody was So Young… from Susan
What I am downloading on my Kindle… The French Riviera: Travel Adventures…
