The Froth

I remember my mum breast-feeding my sister in a dark room. I was standing at the door. I was three.
I remember jumping in rain puddles with my friend Aki and his sister Fotini. I was three.
I remember my dad giving me lunch in the forest, at the fox’s den. There was no fox but I used to wait for her every day. I was two or three.
I remember my dad bringing me a chocolate dessert in the shape of a little mouse. I was three.
I remember choosing storybooks at the bookshop with my dad. I was four.
I remember asking my dad why he was bald. He used to say the wind took all his hair away.
I remember my uncle driving his big lorry and parking it outside our house. In my eyes it was huge. I was three.
I remember my mum hanging the clothes out to dry and wearing flip-flops.
I remember my fruit cream bowl. It was shaped like a boat.
I remember my yellow mini dress and my white knitted shawl.
I remember my hair being pulled behind into a ponytail. It hurt sometimes.
I remember going swimming with my mum. She used to wear a floral swimming cap. I was three or four.

P.S What is your earliest memory?

My son has been sick on and off for almost two months now. At first we thought it was the flu but two weeks later it came back, after a basketball session and there were no other symptoms, just high fever and tiredness. He’d wake up in the morning and tell me "I am so tired".  It passed and after we had returned from Ioannina, it returned too. The tiredness and the fever and I started googling his symptoms and found out he must have some kind of bacterial infection for it to be so persistent. Once more, the doctor said it was nothing serious, just another virus, afterall it is spring and he is such a strong kid etc etc. But we had blood tests and a few days back, we got a dreaded call from the lab, asking us to repeat the tests because the blood platelet count was too low. So low, they feared they had made a mistake. (Note: In controlled panic, I called back to the lab to ask about his white blood cells and if they had found them to be too high and the answer was: We can’t tell you before you have paid for these exams. This happened at 9:30 in the evening. I went berserk and I don’t even remember what names I called the receptionist).

I don’t think I’ve ever had a more stressful 12 hours in my life. I googled "low platelet count" and the things I read didn’t let me sleep at night. Several cancers, autoimmune syndroms that result in repeated infections, and so on. It was not a mistake his platelet levels were low, but they also found a widespread streptococcus infection that had depleted his iron levels so much it is a miracle he was still functioning. But even that sounded good to me, compared to what I had been worrying about. The tests have to be repeated later and he is on antibiotics and vitamins and a special iron rich diet.

There is a question and there is a thought I made. I am still shaken but I thought how lucky we are for being allowed to continue life as we knew it. Because for a couple of days, the internet, IKEA ads in bus stops, new films, spring cleaning, work, seemed irrelevant. A million what ifs.

My question though is this: Why do people have to rely on the internet to find out about their health? Why are not doctors more careful and yes, less relaxed? (the paediatrician must have answered the phone more than 15 times while he was examining my son). And why is this general phobia towards antibiotics becoming so dangerous that doctors are reluctant to prescribe them, even a month after they suspect (or don’t they?) that there is a bacterial infection and not the common cold virus? Why did I suspect my son had a bacterium and the doctor did not , or did not bother to tell me?

This is my conclusion: If you suspect there is something wrong, trust your instinct, search the internet, ask lots and lots of questions and don’t put your trust on just one doctor. And never fear you might sound foolish or like a know-all. That would be bad of course, but it’s better than being left in the dark and told "pay before we tell you if your child is okay".

My sexy shower cap, courtesy of lovely Stephanie (thanks so much, I never take it off)

I have neglected you. And me and this page too. Thank you for the birthday wishes you sent in my mail and on Facebook and all corners of the internet I have contaminated. You are so nice and I am so awful. This birthday was all about the realization that I am in fact an awful person but that I am not too awful not to like myself and I do. I suck but like myself and I just realized. It’s my birthday gift to me.

Death by chocolate

So, the story behind the shower cap photos (I have many) is this: Last night, while I was working with the magazine’s photographer, M was browsing the computer and found them. What would you do if you found compromising photos of your better half, while in the presence of others? Would you

a. Minimize them instantly, open a random window and pretend you are reading your email?

b. Minimize them instantly and send them to your mobile to laugh at your leisure?

c. MAXIMIZE them instantly and shout "Hey, look at you here! He he he, what were you thinking, sending kisses in that shower cap?" while turning the monitor towards the guests’ side?

Well, let me give you a hint. It’s not a or b if you are M.

So, I thought it was only fair that I should post this photo of him. Actually, I should have named it after the history conference he is about to take part in, so that people googling it, would see this, but I have a heart. And that brings us back to why I like me although I suck.