Week 29: Accident and Eggmergency

 


Dear NHS,

I’m just writing to say thank you for looking after me yesterday.

For many months now I’ve been staring at food open mouthed, so it’s a blessed relief mummy and daddy are finally putting something in it. And boy have I enjoyed it. Avocado, sweet potato, carrot, parsnip: my tastebuds have been around Sainsbury’s produce department and they like what they’re getting.

A small problem yesterday though. 

Egg. 

I had some and it didn’t agree with me. Not like Bluey and Bingo don’t agree, but like Mr Curry and The Browns don’t agree. Soon my whole stomach came up in a rash. Then my back. Finally, my chin. These blotchy craters disrupted my shiny surface and made me feel a little funny.

So my mummy took me to something called a farmacist. I don’t know why she took me there: I am not a cow or a hen or a horse. For some reason my mummy took this animal doctor’s advice and sent me to the GPs. At least, I would be seen by someone who is used to treating human beings.

At the doctors they told me to go to the hospital. I would need to go to a place called Urgent Care. If I needed care urgently, I don’t know why the doctor was sending me somewhere else. They should call it ‘Quite Urgent Care’ if you ask me.

There, I was given Baby Piriton. This is something they give you if you are allergic to something. That was then it dawned on me: what happens if I never eat egg again? I’ve seen my brother make a cake with mummy and daddy, which has eggs in it. "What is life if it doesn’t have some cake in it?” I’ve heard my daddy say. 

“Is it a life if you've never had cake in it?" I thought.

Finally, I was told to go to A&E so I could be monitored by doctors and nurses. There, I saw other children in the waiting room. One girl was in there because her brother had accidentally hit her with a golf club. As heavy- handed as Kit can be, he’s yet to confuse my nose for a tee and my face for a ball. My mummy said the golf injury reminded her of the film Uncle Buck. I have two uncles: Matthew and Kieran. They are both bald. If no hair is a sign of being an uncle, I hope I don’t grow up to be one.

So thank you NHS, I feel much better now. I was looked after so well by everyone. They all deserve a smiley sticker.

Love,

Jude

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