She was awoken very early with an unwell feeling. It had already been a very difficult winter...cold...storms...one after another. She had thought winter blues was the reason she had felt off for a few days.
What she felt this morning was no longer just 'off'...she had difficulty finishing her first cup of tea. After moving on to sharp pains in her abdomen, she decided it was time to make a phone call. She hated to call too early on a Saturday, but she needed medical advice.
The telephone rang only twice when it was answered, "Turner."
"Patrick "
"What's wrong?"
"I don't feel well..belly pain" her voice was strained by the pain
"Which side?"
"Right..I suppose," she was breathing heavy as she responded.
"Listen carefully it will take too long for me to get you. I am calling an ambulance. I will meet you at The London. Just unlock your door and sit in the hall to wait."
She did as he said and waited…
Patrick
No one, but Timothy seemed to sleep in the Turner house these days. Even with no sleep Shelagh was glowing, Patrick observed through his own bleary eyes.
When the phone rang the baby who he had been walking with started crying.
Balancing baby and telephone, he answered.
When he heard his name on the other end, he knew something was not right. Half way through his conversation, Shelagh was next to him with questioning eyes as she took the baby from him. He did not satisfy her concern instead he held up a finger and quickly called for the ambulance.
When he gave the address and his concerns of possible acute appendicitis, Shelagh had all the answers she needed.
He looked at her with concerned eyes and said, "I need you to call Dr. Hunt, her GP. Tell him what is happening."
Shelagh nodded and said, "Call with news." As he rushed out the door.
Granny
She sat in the chair by the telephone for the ambulance as Patrick had instructed and after a few minutes, her phone rang. She answered, but barely uttered a sound.
"Granny," Shelagh said, "Patrick is on his way. I notified Dr. Hunt. I did not want you waiting alone. You're going to be alright...Patrick will make sure."
"The children…" she whispered.
" They're right here with me...I am staying with you."
The pain was intensifying and Shelagh kept reminding her to breathe. "I am familiar with pain," Shelagh told her.
Granny knew what she meant, but really could not focus at all. After what seemed like forever there was a knock on the door.
"Come in."
Shelagh said, "Don't worry. Patrick will be waiting for you."
One moment she was listening to Shelagh and the next she was on a stretcher going out the door. The ride to hospital was a blurr. When she was carried in the door, Patrick was waiting.
She remembered very little except...Patrick saying tell them...family…"You're my family...My Patrick," she said feeling quite groggy after a jab.
Patrick
He was waiting for her to arrive by ambulance. Although impossible to diagnose without examination he was certain that it was her appendix. He remembered when Shelagh was not allowed with Timothy and did not want a repeat. As soon as she arrived, he insisted that she say that they were family. As expected she was rushed to theatre.
The waiting was difficult. He checked in with Shelagh. He was so pleased to learn that she had phoned Granny and spoke to her while she waited for the ambulance to arrive. He was reminded for just how wonderful his wife is.
When the surgeon was through he spoke to Patrick and assured him that she would make a slow, but full recovery. He sat by her bedside and waited for her to come around.
Granny
As she began to wake she saw Patrick's face. She thought it could be worse...I could have been greeted by Marianne.
"Don't move. You're going to have a lot of pain," he said.
"I made it."
"Of course you did. You're too tough to be beaten by appendicitis."
"All I remembered was you insisting we were family...of course we're family."
"I needed them to know or they would not speak to me or let me stay with you."
"You're a doctor."
"Yes, but I am not yours...now rest."
"Betty."
"Oh should I call her? I'll need the number."
Patrick
The last person he wanted to speak to was Betty...He knew it was the right thing to do.
She answered and he greeted her, "Hello this is Patrick Turner. I am calling from The London.."
"Oh Lord, is she alright?"
"She will be...she has had surgery…"
"Surgery!"
"She had a bad appendix...They caught it before it ruptured."
"Why didn't she call me?"
"She called me which was the right thing to do. She will be fine, but it was major surgery."
"I am coming right over."
"Visiting hours are at two."
"Humpf."
That went well he thought, as he left to check on some of his own patients.
Granny
She was tired when Betty arrived. She suspected whatever they were giving her for pain was making her drowsy.
"Oh my dear!" Betty greeted her.
"Hullo," she responded.
"Are you in pain?"
"No...medicine."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"Patrick...I needed."
She must have fallen asleep, because she was talking to her sister, then she was gone.
Patrick popped in during evening hours. As he spoke to the matron, she observed his doctor look.
"Will I live doctor?" she asked.
"The sister says 'my mother is sedated for pain and there are no post operative concerns...So yes, you will live to cause more trouble."
"I didn't mean to be a bother."
"You are not a bother...I meant trouble with your sharp tongue," he teased.
"You should respect your mum," she teased back.
"Oh you are feeling better. You need your rest. I will be back to see you tomorrow."
"Good bye love."
Patrick leaned over and kissed her forehead and she smiled. She kept smile as sleep overtook her again.