I was hoping our wedding anniversary would be a nice, quiet romantic affair.
I’d remembered a card and an appropriate present to mark our time in holy matrimony.
Had I done everything I could have done for him? Had I been a good father?
What I didn’t expect was to be back at the Queen Alexandra Hospital again, this time with our son as the patient.
After my first 999 call last week for Sarah, my next came for Freddie.
There is no worry like a 13-month-old who has been under the weather for a while but no-one could work out why.
At our local GP surgery, the nurse said it was just a bug. Others had thought it could be due to his molars coming through.
What I’ve learnt from all of this is to trust a mother’s intuition. Sarah knew something wasn’t right with him and after a third night when his temperature was over 41C, we needed help.
I understand what the 111 service is for but, after waiting for a doctor to call back and advise Calpol didn’t cut the mustard, it was time to act.
I cannot praise the emergency services highly enough. For the second time in as many weeks, an ambulance was sat outside our home.
As I followed it to hospital, my mind wandered. I worried. What if it was something serious? Had I done everything I could have done for him? Had I been a good father?
Anyway, the poor little mite was diagnosed with pneumonia, tonsillitis and conjunctivitis and was kept in for the night.
As I took off my shoes and climbed into the camp bed next to Freddie’s cot, I slowly drifted off to sleep to the faint sounds of doctors and nurses going about their business in the background.
With two-hourly observations and administering of medicines, I was woken by two lovely nurses whose soft and caring approach, even at 4am, shone through.
When Freddie was allowed home, we said our goodbyes and best wishes to our fellow wardmates and thanked the staff.
As I watched the local TV news that night, there was another ‘NHS-bashing’ story.
Maybe it’s time we told more good news stories to boost NHS staff morale.