I have a story for you. A couple of nights ago, I had, what my Mum would have called, a ‘funny turn.’ It was late at night, Dexter should have been asleep, but thankfully wasn’t, and it all started with a stomach ache. It came on suddenly and sharply, so I decided to go to the loo … y’know, just to see if it was ‘that.’

 

A minute later, mid-wee (TMI soz) I suddenly felt really strange. Really weak, faint, dizzy. Like I was going to throw up, but not quite sure if I felt sick. Hot, so hot I started sweating profusely from my forehead and the back of my hands. How weird is that?! Anyway, I got to the landing window and opened it, stuck my head out of the window and thought this is it, I’m going die. This is how I’m going to go.

 

Yeah, I know, dramatic much? But I’d never felt like it before and didn’t know what to do. I could see the light coming from Dexter’s laptop and knew I needed to get to him, tried to walk, and collapsed on the floor. I was panicking now and crawled along to his bedroom along the landing floor … think zombie chic … reached for his door handle and croaked for him to come to me.

 

Can you imagine how scared he must have been, poor sod, to see his Mum laying on the floor like that? But he was a real trouper. He didn’t panic, checked to see if I was joking (we have that type of relationship, but even I’m not that cruel), and then sat on the floor with me.  Spoke to me calmly, quietly, asked what was wrong, asked what he could do for me and I just remember saying, on the brink of what I thought was passing out, “If I don’t come round, call an ambulance.”

 

This is a great story isn’t it?! I mean only because I’m fine now of course, but IT WAS A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE! OR … as NHS Direct said the next day, probably just low blood pressure. And I’ve been to the doctors today and everything is fine. Why it happened, we’re not sure, but the main thing is I’m healthy and it was probably just an old lady blip.

 

The reason I’m telling you is because several things went through my mind when I was on Dexter’s bedroom floor:

 

1.  I kid you not, the first thing that ran through my mind, as I’m mid-death, was, “Oh FFS, I don’t have a bra on.” Seriously. I had a long sleeved top on and pyjama bottoms, and often wear a crop top underneath to bed to keep the girls in check, but not this night. I had visions of boobs everywhere as the ambulance crew stretchered me out of the house. Not a good look.

2.  “How will Dexter handle this situation?” I’m a healthy woman, and this type of thing has never happened before, and although he’s a mature 13-year-old, it was going to be a real test to see how he coped. And he coped brilliantly.

3.  “I’m going to die alone.” Dexter was great, but he’s not going to be around for much longer … in the blink of an eye he’ll be off to Uni and I’ll be living alone again. And that’s how it should be, insofar as him living his own life, but when you’re poorly, and there’s no partner to look after you, well, it’s just a bit rubbish. I’m used to it, my ex was a twat and never looked after me anyway, so I’m very self sufficient, but it was an awful feeling, to think that had Dexter not been there, and I had have passed out, no-one would have been there to call 999. OK, I’d have come round eventually and done it myself, but it was a harsh reminder that I’m actual Miranda from Sex and the City when she choked at home alone and thought she’d be eaten by a horde of cats when she dies alone. (I don’t have cats, and she ended up marrying Steve, so there’s hope for me yet.)

 

So there you have it. There’s no moral to this story, other than to say my son is awesome, I didn’t die, and it all came out in the wash. 

 

The End.

kate sutton

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