Testing times

EASTER came and went for another year for the Pughs on the peninsula. It mirrored past years - chocolate eggs, meeting friends, school holidays, visits from a certain long-eared and whiskered mammal.
But one thing was different this year - after youngest son stood on a discarded open rusty tin can lid - in typically Australian barefoot style.

We spent a few days over the five day Easter break with friends on a campsite two hours' drive away from home. The jetskis were out, as was their boat, and the kids were loving the campfire style life. I was determined this camping trip not to be dubbed the one who took too much stuff that's never used so I packed simply this time. Just one change of clothes and a toothbrush each. Too easy.

Although I did regret this minimalist style of living when I saw the 2 inch laceration to the underside of my boy's left foot. Begging, stealing and borrowing teatowels and anything I could get my hands on to stop the blood flow, we left the
camping commune and set off in search of some sterile solution and stitches.

Sure enough, we stumbled across a hospital and were seen by the triage who put the boy in a wheelchair and a line of priority. Two hours later, we were called and a bed was found for the little fella. After a few goes to get anaesthetic
into his foot we decided it best to send him to la-la land and have a little sleep while he got fixed up.

It took longer for him to come round than it did the whole stitching up process - but not without a few giggles. He was telling us all about his dream as a fish and he regressed to being a two year old with his mannerisms and jokes. Little
did we know that seeing him there with a drip in his arm and an oxygen mask over his face was going to be such a familiar sight over the week that followed.

He was re-admitted to hospital with an infection and set up on the children's ward with intravenous antibiotics every four hours for three days.

After surgery number three and a heap of morphine, he was discharged at dinnertime on Friday and we arrived home just in time to see the Royal wedding live on TV. The media coverage of the event has been massive over here and to be honest, I haven't really paid that much attention to it all.

But when the big day came, I got all patriotic and watched with interest. If the little fella would have stayed in again that night, I would have been sharing the parent's overnight room with the mother of my boy's room mate - it turns out both of us have each worked - at different times - under the leadership of the same editor back in the UK.

It's amazing how far you can travel and have so much in common with total strangers so we've exchanged numbers and will have another trip down memory lane in a few weeks - when our boys are on the mend and ready to kick a football around again. And that day can't come soon enough...