A child, in two parts

Now that I've had a couple of days to calm down and gain perspective, here's the tale of my son losing a toe... and what I've learned from the whole experience...

Last Saturday, Daniel fell off an aluminium ladder at a party... and lost a toe in the process. Apparently it's a common thing for people to lose digits and toes when aluminium ladders are involved - but getting a phone call to say that your child is in two parts at a party was something that I hope will not become a common feature of our world. The short version is that the toe has been reattached, and at the time of writing, we've yet to find out if the surgery worked - the off(ending) toe has to spend 10 days wrapped up, lifted and immobile, and we'll find out on Monday or Tuesday next week if it stays, or if it'll fall off. Yes, really.

So. In the interests of making lists (because everyone loves to read lists, don't they?), here's my list of Lessons from the Ladder.
 

1. No adult or child should ever climb on or fall off an aluminium ladder if they don't have shoes on. I'm beginning to think that safety gloves are a good idea too. If a finger or a toe is severed from your body, you have six hours to get it back on. Sooner is better, but six hours is the outside, according to the lovely Dr Mia.
2. The Linksfield Clinic can't deal with paed plastics emergencies.
3. The Linksfield Clinic also can't bandage a foot with a severed toe. They can however chuck a bundle of bandages in the general direction of the offending foot, and send you off to the Milpark.
4. The Milpark Clinic has no paeds facilities. At all. They only treat over 10s and gorillas.
5. The Milpark Clinic is great at bandaging a foot with a severed toe. They're also great at phoning around for you to find the right place to go to with your child in two parts, and making sure that a great plastic surgeon is waiting for you when you get there.
6. We've all heard of people being turned away at the door of Casualty because they couldn't pay a deposit or provide proof of medical aid membership. The teams at Linksfield and Milpark didn't even ask our names before they started attending to our son - and they didn't make us fill out any paperwork when we dashed out of their facilities. So - they were healthcare professionals doing what healthcare professionals do - addressing the needs of the patient, when he needed it the most, and without getting stuck on admin.
7. The male paeds nurses at the Sandton Clinic are much better at their jobs than the female paed nurses. Thank you, Peter and Chico - you were rockstars. To your female colleagues who didn't respond to my repeated request for pain meds for my son for over an hour - you're not rockstars. Rocks, maybe, but not rockstars.
8. While kudos has to go to the Sandton Clinic for having sleeper couches in the paed ward so that you can stay with your sick or injured child overnight, the person who designed those sleeper couches (and the person who bought them in bulk) deserves a bitchslap, and a night of sleeping on one of them as punishment.
9. It's very funny to watch and listen to your son when he's completely whacked on opiates.
10. It's a great idea to have a wheelchair in the family. We're using one that belonged to my dad's first wife. Ja. We have an exteeeeeeeeended family.
11. Little boys are great at making fun out of stuff. I've been amazed at how quickly Daniel has mastered the wheelchair, maneuvring himself around the house, through doors, turning corners etc.
12. Even boys get man flu. He hasn't needed pain meds for four days now, but every now and then, when he remembers, he reminds me that his foot might be a little bit sore. But it's clearly not.
13. The Twitterverse is amazing. Of course, Brett and I being twittaddicts of a sort, we both passed comments about what had happened. People who have never met our child have kept on asking how he's doing. The world can be a caring place - thank you to all of you.
14. We all bitch about Discovery. However, they have picked up every bill that's been created around this drama (as far as I know). And I am inordinately grateful that we had access to private healthcare that was quick and responsive, and that gave us a fighting chance to save that toe.

Here's what's wrong with SA

Advance warning: this post is a ranting one.

Around 80% of the time, I'm a glass-half-full-of-awesome-sauce about South Africa. I love our country, it's beautiful, it's fill with amazing people who are poised to do astounding things. But then, for that other 20% of the time, I really do have to sit back and wonder.

So. Picture the scene. Saturday. A room full of cancer patients are waiting for their radiation treatments, that they've had to go for on a Saturday because the radiation facility's equipment was broken on Thursday and Friday - both days on which they kept the patients waiting for their dose of hope for six hours and more, without very much information or care.

Back to Saturday. There's a beverage station in the waiting room. Nice. Only every single cup is dirty, and the ones that were clean have been dirtied by what is obviously a spill - so the cups that were rim-down on the tray, are all dirty too. There's no milk. The water cooler is empty.

I asked one of the ladies if there's a dishwasher (meaning a machine) that can be loaded so that the people waiting for treatment (and the people waiting with them) can have something to drink out of a clean cup.

"No," she says. " There are only two of us here today, and there's no maid to wash the dishes."
 
That, on top of a very interesting and pretty hardcore day at the Daily Maverick's Gathering 2.0 on Friday, brought it home.

People just don't care. They don't care enough to do the little things that could ease someone's day - so why should they begin to care about the big things? How are we going to get anywhere, if we don't start taking care of the small details - simple caring actions that will make someone smile, give someone hope, change someone's perceptions about a stereotype?

Well, all I could do at the time was wash dishes. So I did. I washed the cups and saucers, dried them, cleaned the tray, and loaded the milk jug. All in the time it took for one five minute radiation treatment. Not exactly hard labour, and not exactly time consuming.

Next time someone asks you for a (metaphorical) clean cup - what are you going to do?

One Month of Gratitude - join me?

Last year, every day in November, I put a post up on Facebook about something that I was grateful for, at the suggestion of Melanie Minnaar. I blogged the results here, if you want to go back and have a look, but I've decided to do it again this year.

 As South Africans, we tend to navel-gaze a lot, we tend to scream off in anger or terror or consternation (or a combination of all three, and more) at the slightest thing. To be fair, we do live in a pretty hardcore society (and we - you and me, in our leafy suburbs are insulated from the worst of it). It's not surprising that we react so dramatically to the bad - because there's a lot of it around.

There's also truckloads of good stuff around though - and I think we forget to stop and ponder it, give it a hug, and tell people about it.

Last year's postings had a pretty profound effect on me. I was angry about a few things, and I was rushing around from one panic station to the next, obsessing on details that turned out to be not very relevant at all. December dawned, and I felt lighter, happier, and I smiled more - at my family and friends, and at total strangers too.

So. Here's my challenge: join me in making November a month where you stop for two minutes each day, and think about the things that you're grateful for. You can blog them, Facebook them, tweet them or write them down an old-fashioned notebook, using a writing stick. Or, just think about them over your morning cup of coffee.

But do it every day, just for 30 days.

And tell me how you feel about life afterwards...

Meme time again

I found this over on The Only Cin, and quite liked it. So, here goes: 

I am: a wife, mother, and daughter

I have: enough. Aren’t I lucky?

I know: that I am loved

I think: not nearly deeply enough or often enough

I don’t think: that you can ever have too many macarons or cupcakes

I want: to play my piano more often

I like: chocolate, coffee and afternoon naps.

I dislike: whinging and whining

I hate: liars

I dream: of a chef’s kitchen. And time to put it to good use.

I fear: losing my family

I am annoyed: by inconsiderate people.

I crave: to do something Different

I search: for love.

I hide: if I told you, they wouldn’t be hidden any more!

I wonder: what happened to an ex or two

I just can’t help: procrastinating

I regret: not spending more time with my dad before he died.

I love: lying on my bed reading

I can’t live without: my family

I try to: do the right thing

I enjoy: baking

I don’t care: about what people think of me, as much as I used to

I never want to: be at a loss for words

I believe: in trusting people, until they give you reason not to

I dance: a bit weirdly. But I have fun when I do.

I sing: in my head. Nobody wants to hear me out loud.

I argue: poorly, mostly because I cry when I get angry

I win: not nearly often enough

I lose: my hard drive, with all my photos on it, with alarming regularity

I wish: that the government would sort its sh*t out.

I listen: to what my husband mockingly calls “adult contemporary music”. And a bunch of other stuff.

I don’t understand: people who are cruel to children or animals

I forget: if I remembered, I’d be able to tell you.

I am happy: Yes, I am. 

Spooked by Hallowe'en

This is an updated version of a blog post I did for www.jozikids.co.za a few years ago - refreshed for 2012.

When I was growing up, Hallowe’en was a thing we saw on American movies – it was never a big deal in South Africa, probably because our parents were concerned about the security of children wandering around the streets after dark, and because dressing up in black to have fun was probably against some apartheid law or other.

While I think most parents still have security concerns, the advent of security estates and boomed off areas has created safe pockets for trick or treating – and then of course there’s the business opportunity for everyone from Pick n Pay and Woolworths to China City to make extra income from costumes and themed sweets.

Playschools, crèches, primary schools and communities have Hallowe’en themed parties across the suburbs now, commemorating a Celtic festival (or a selection of festivals, depending on your choice of origin (Halloween background) that they have little knowledge or insight about. Children whose parents have spent a small (or large) amount of money on costumes compete to see who is dressed the best, and who can liberate the largest haul of sweets from willing neighbours.

So why am I particularly ‘omgekrap’ about an extended fancy dress party?

Hallowe’en is not a part of my culture, just as Makar Sankranti, Purim and Hola Mahalla are not part of my culture – and interesting though they are, I don’t celebrate them. Hallowe’en may have been a part of the culture of my Celtic ancestors, but it has never part of my culture as a Christian-raised South African.

I totally get that Hallowe’en is an opportunity for kids to dress up and have fun – but why do we need to wait for a festival that has nothing to do with our history or culture to do that? Why do we not make a bigger deal of our own Heritage Day, for example, and invest more time in celebrating that with fancy dress and local food (because let’s face it, there is more to South African food than braaiing!).

So what do I do about Hallowe’en, without making my children feel like they’re the only ones not going to a city-wide party? I’m happy for them to dress up for parties, at friends’ houses or at school, but I draw the line at letting them beg for sweets on the streets when there are others not so far out there who don’t even have food for one meal a day, never mind three.

Talk about a juggling act… but when was parenting ever anything but?

Beetle off to Baron's, why don't you?

Melanie Minnaar is an in-computer friend, and a real life fellow mom at St David's. She's also somewhat of a dynamo - and when she puts her mind to something, you know it's going to happen. If you haven't heard of Melanie's Twitter Blanket Drive, I would have to ask what rock you've been hiding under for the past three years...

She's taken on the cause of The Tomorrow Trust, and is using social media to help them raise R2million before the end of the year. Sounds like a lot of money, yes? But she's broken it down into chunks - and is challenging 1000 people to raise R2000 each for the Trust. That old thing about how do you eat an elephant - one bite at a time? She's got that down to a fine art - so please contact her if you're keen to host a tea, have a lunch, do a raffle, or just do your bit to help her raise funds to help school going orphans or vulnerable children bridge the gaps in their education, so that they really do stand a chance out there in the big wide world.

If you're not up for raising the money, you can still help - and have some fun while you're at it, with the help of Baron's Woodmead.

They're launching the new Beetle on Saturday 20 October 2012, and you're invited to the event. Your entrance fee? Some books for the Trust to hand over to the children, or a teddy bear or soft toy, to offer some comfort.  

So...beetle along to Baron's Woodmead, books and bears in hand, between 08h00 and 13h00 next Saturday, to have a look at the next edition of one of the world's favourite cars.

Disclaimer: This post was not sponsored.

Some observations.

So, the last while has been pretty chilled in my world, but here are a few observations: 

• Puppies can instinctually swim. We put both the puppies in the pool over the weekend, pointed them in the direction of the step, and they made it out ok. 
• Puppies do not know instinctually that you shouldn't get too close to the pool. 
• If a puppy falls in the pool and is not pointing in the direction of the step, it is likely to stay where it is, doggypaddling madly, until it can't any more. 
• Our pool net is no longer there for our (swimming) children), it is there to prevent the puppies drowning. 
• I am not freaked out at all by holding a live lizard in my hands. I've done it several times. 
• I am totally freaked out when a lizard that I'm holding drops its tail in my hand, and the tail carries on wiggling. 
• I guess that that is the desired result for the lizard... 
• I'm loving spending more time at home over the weekends. I'm not sure what we've changed recently, but home has always been a sanctuary, and we're revealing in it at the moment. 
• When you have a new gardener, it is Murphy's Law that he will find the irrigation system's piping, without looking for it. And he'll find it with the tine of a big garden fork. 
• Even though I'm not eating anything with wheat flour in it at the moment, I still enjoy baking. And judging by how my zingy lemon cupcakes with homemade lemon curd secret centers were received last week - you don't have to taste it to bake it. Although tasting would be great... 
• Junipa's in Bryandale is The Business. Even though I couldn't taste what is apparently Joburg's best croissant (weep!), the breakfast that I had yesterday was the best I've had in years. 
• Builder's Warehouse is a time/space vortex. No matter how quickly you intend to be in and out, it will take five times longer than that. Multiplied by a further five times for every additional person that goes with you. 
• The Country Road till point in the Men's Section at Woolies in Sandton is the slowest till point in the whole of Johannesburg. And it's a Rule of Operation there that no matter what you have to purchase from wherever in the shop, there will always be something that they can't scan. And they will always try to scan it at least five times before admitting defeat.
• My sons live in an imaginary world that is part Skylanders, part Star Wars and part sniper soldier. However, Daniel is remarkably good at chess, so we must be doing something right. 
• It's a good thing to check your junkmail folder every now and then. It's the best way to avoid being embarrassed in front of the taxman, your pregnant friend, and your retirement annuity broker. 
• It's never certain whether the shelves in Pick n Pay are empty on a Sunday afternoon because a) it's a Sunday afternoon, b) it's the Sunday afternoon before Succot and your PnP is in a Jewish area, or c) the shelves are empty because of the truck driver's struck. Regardless, a little bit of stockpiling won't do any harm...
• You've got to keep your eyes peeled for the good news stories in SA. They are out there. If you don't, you just may not get up in the morning. And that would be a terrible waste of a beautiful day, in spite of all the crazy stuff that's going on out there.