Bad Fit

Clearly the universe gets the vibes when everything is lovely and settled because BOOM. It all went to shit over the weekend.

As a parent I am aware that there will be many occasions where as much as I want to, I cannot simply wrap up my son in cotton wool until he's 37. He will fall over at school and hurt himself. I'm sure there'll be times when he doesn't look where he's going and headbutts a wall. There have been times when he is beyond snotty and I just want to make him feel better. And then there are times like Friday evening when you simply feel like you cannot do anything to help your child and you're helpless.

My son had a temperature and I was asked to collect him from nursery on Friday (he'd also been teething), so naturally didn't think anything of it. We spent the afternoon on the sofa watching The Greatest Showman and having all the cuddles. And then just before tea time, he was laying on my tum - he looked up at me and it is a look I will never forget. He was trying to focus on me and went to put his hands on my face. But he couldn't. He couldn't focus. He couldn't reach me even though I was right in front of him. And then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he began to fit.

I put him on his side on the floor as I wasn't sure if he was choking at the same time. Fortunately, (and god knows how it was at the EXACT time it happened), but my sister-in-law arrived and she's a paediatric nurse. We knew straightaway that we needed to call an ambulance - and my word, that conversation was the longest 11 minutes before the crew arrived. My husband was with our brother-in-law and they both raced home once we'd spoken. Seeing the father of my child burst through the door to quite the scene, must have been really tough for him. I knew how I felt about it all unfolding in front of me; I can only begin to imagine how he felt, too. In a nutshell, my son had three seizures before the ambulance arrived. Vomited twice. Shook. Was stiff. Was unresponsive. Couldn't focus. And I've never felt more useless. My sister-in-law did a sterling job as I flapped around the edges, packing a bag for the hospital and whenever we were able, hold onto our boy to tell him his Mummy was here, Daddy's here. We love him.

Everything is a wee bit of a blur and I guess by my writing about it now, is in some way a coping mechanism for what went on this weekend. The post may get a tad lengthy, but a lot happened that I need to get my head around.

In the ambulance, we had two pit stops: one to collect another member of ambulance crew to administer some medication whilst we went blue lights a'flashing through town. And then another to pick up the air ambulance doctors who had 'Critical Care' emblazoned on their jackets (!) My little boy was on the bed with all of these people around him, and I just sat there with my seatbelt on, holding the gas tank because I had nothing else to bring to the party. And my husband, bless him, sat in the front of the ambulance similarly helpless. We got to the children's hospital and headed straight to A&E - to resus - where what seemed like everyone who worked in the hospital was waiting for our arrival. [Anyone who's watched any kind of real life hospital programme on the tele knows it's not the best if they ring the red phone. The critical care doctors had rang the red phone before our arrival. THE RED PHONE.]

Never have either myself or the husband wanted to pick up our boy and tell him that everything is going to be ok...and it actually be ok. In that instant. Be able to make it better for him now.

Unfortunately despite all the medicines in the world for seizures, nothing stopped him fitting. Until they stuck paraldehyde up his tiny bottom; a last resort before a general anaesthetic. At this point, one of his seizures had lasted 50 minutes - and I thought that 11 minute phone call had seemed like a lifetime. Jesus, was I wrong. They ran a CT scan as well as did a chest x-ray and as far as we could tell, there was nothing major to report on either of them. We just had to play the waiting game on the High Dependency Unit overnight.

Fortunately there were no more fits on our first night in hospital (his body must have been exhausted and that makes me so sad for him), but we waited to see the neurologist team that following morning anyway. Our little person who we made was struggling to bear any weight on his own two feet, he was still really floppy and lethargic and had the oddest gurning going on; his tongue kept coming out like a camel's and his speech was all slurred. All we could do was hope that these symptoms were down to the fact he was off his little rocker the night before and that rather than them be symptoms of something more serious, they were instead side effects of the drugs he'd had. Hopefully with a good night's sleep they'd wear off and disappear? The consultant decided that it wasn't worth the risk and that our son would need to have a lumbar puncture. In case you didn't know (we didn't) a lumbar puncture is a procedure in which they put a needle in between the bones of the lower back, into the fluid around the spinal cord and the fluid can then be extracted for testing. We got told we were testing for meningitis - as well as anything else that might have caused the seizures. They tried to do the lumbar puncture with some sedation, but despite not being 100% himself, our little lad was too wiggly for them to do it on Saturday.

Which leads me onto Sunday. Our son had been treated with antibiotics from arrival as if it was meningitis, whilst also having antibiotics for all things viral and bacterial; it's gibberish to me, but all you need to know is they were so on top of his care from the moment I dialled '999' and I am forever grateful to the NHS.

But yes. The needle in the spine. Poor chap was nil by mouth from 6am Sunday morning as he was due to go into theatre in the afternoon. My husband and I took him down and as only one parent was allowed into the anaesthetist bit, I went in with our boy after my other half kissed him and told him he loved him. Now I've had 17 operations. 16 with general anaesthetic (one was a c-section, so a jazzier op than anything Crohn's related). Yet holding him in my arms as they administered the knockout fluid through the cannula in his little hand was something else. Hearing my little boy say it was 'chilly' and holding his arm as the cold fluid travelled up his forearm - a feeling I knew so well. And then just like that, within no more than 2 seconds... he was asleep. I kissed him on the head and told him I loved him, too. Told them to look after him and went out to meet my husband. And we waited.

We got a call exactly one hour later: we left him at 2:44pm and the ward called at 3:44pm to say we could get him from Recovery. As before, only one parent could go so this time my husband went to collect him and I waited to give them both a big squeeze.

Should probably throw in for good measure here that our son was definitely feeling more like himself that morning as he was able to do standing. And walking. Or as he ended up doing, a quick turn near the only cupboard in the room and split his eyelid open on his brow bone. So for dramatic effect, we then ended up with not only a lumbar puncture scheduled in - but a few stitches too for the newly developing black eye and laceration. Don't do things by half son! With regards to theatre though, all went to plan and the results from the lumbar puncture were due to trickle through over the next 24 hours. My husband and I continued to tag-team the hospital nighttime shifts and had everything crossed for some good news.

Unfortunately for the little one though, there were a few moments in the nighttimes where he had to have his cannulas removed/changed for his antibiotics. Hearing your child scream out for Mummy and Daddy whilst sobbing because of pain is so so tough to see. When the final cannula was removed on his last night, he turned to me when he woke up and just announced that 'baddy...gone' and gestured to his blood-stained foot. My heart melted for him.

But onward and upwards we went! The test results were starting to come in and we were looking good for it not being meningitis. However the fact it was still being mentioned due to some outstanding test results, meant none of us could fully relax just yet. He was definitely more like himself. But we wanted to make sure we were going to leave with the best case scenario: that being that it was a complex febrile convulsion, and hopefully there's no lasting damage - with these fitting episodes few and far between.

And that is what we got: complex febrile convulsions. That was our diagnosis on the discharge letter yesterday.

So after 5 days in hospital (and what seemed like forever) we were going home, together.

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NB: I had febrile convulsions myself as a child until I was around 9. I knew what they were - but under no circumstances did I think I would see my own son have a seizure in front of me. Multiple seizures, in fact.

Apart from writing this post as a way for me to process the weekend's activity, I also wanted to put it out there because it was such a scary unknown for us as parents. That guilt I had was horrible; that maybe I should have been able to stop the seizures happening. But the doctors explained that generally speaking, with febrile convulsions it'll kind of happen regardless. As in, he didn't have a fit because I didn't do enough to make him feel well. 

And now we know that if it's to happen again, we just do exactly as before...ring 999 and let the emergency services do what they do best.

Ass Issues

Needless to say it's certainly been a little while! And even though it seems wildly out of context, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all. So now to 2018.

Brief update on what's been happening: got discharged from hospital after my stay in November (don't think I'd cope if I was still there now) and I had everything crossed for a lovely normal Christmas period. Wanted to start 2018 with a 'new year, new me' attitude and all that shite...Dyed my hair blonde. Strong start. 

From a general Crohn's point of view though, we made it to January in a relatively normal state - no more hospital admissions, and I will take the small wins as and where I can! Also had both an outpatient appointment and a catch up pre-Christmas with my consultant. I mean it wasn't great news?! Essentially, your inflammatory markers should be around 50 and mine was coming in at 507. Whoopsy. Have a vitamin D deficiency too, but as far as I'm concerned, if ever there was an excuse to go ahead and get the honeymoon booked it was my body medically crying out for a bit of sunshine. And I finally got my iron infusion - second time lucky as the first time I had a temperature after the flu jab. Swings, roundabouts, etc. Was also still on the waiting list for the EUA from September - and herein lay the problem; THAT'S A VERY LONG TIME TO HAVE A POORLY BOTTOM.

But as of yesterday, I got my long-awaited EUA. All up in my personal space trying to figure out what exactly is happening with my ass. The surgeon came to see me beforehand as they do, and tried to explain to me what was going to happen. As with any type of IBD surgery, it's very much a case of consent to almost everything and then see what you wake up with. I know this. Yesterday was my 16th time in theatre. It's just a bit tough when they essentially say they don't know what's wrong with you.

I had an MRI in November and it showed that there was unusual activity in my pelvis. So then I was sent for the flexible sigmoidoscopy but they couldn't find anything? Yesterday's surgeon spoke to the people who carried out the MRI and the Flexi to literally try and get to the bottom of it. But to no avail, it seemed. The surgeon also mentioned that maybe the only way we can stop my bottom being such a pain, is to stop using it all together. That's an intimidating thought as having a permanent bag in this scenario would be more of a choice, rather than a necessity from emergency surgery. Brain. Fried. But hopefully that's a long way off before we have to weigh up all the pros and cons.

However, I knew I was pinning a lot on this EUA. Very much viewed it as: if you're physically up in there then surely you can see what's happening?! Alas, nothing is simple and to the naked eye they couldn't find any polyps, fistulas, abscesses or fissures. She did however confirm that I have erythema and induration on my right hand side. Personally I'd almost prefer her to tell me I just had piles like a normal person who's been pregnant but then that would be too simple! Anywho. After my EAU the surgeon came back out to see me and explained what she'd managed to do. Or not, in this case. I'm going to need an urgent MRI to reassess for presence of sepsis, with the plan to go back into theatre as she didn't want to delve further when going in blind. 

There was talk previously of botox, applied to the internal sphincter (cue jokes about the most youthful bumhole) but actually that was a no-go from the get-go. The botox paralyses the muscle and the last thing I need is help to go to the toilet. Any more urgency and I would be in a position where I thought I needed the toilet toilet and it turns out I'd have already been. I'm not even 30 yet. Let me get to Nana age before I start shitting myself on the regular!

Next on the list of fixing me, is a SeHCAT scan that I have tomorrow and again next Wednesday to see if I have a bile salt malabsorption. This is a double edged sword for me as it'll either show that yes indeed I have something wrong. Not ideal, but at least we'd know what we're dealing with. Equally if it shows that I don't have bile salt malabsorption, then we're very much still wondering what is wrong with me.

In other news, I started seeing the hospital psychologist. She's been amazing. She's helped me figure out that actually I am pretty well equipped with the 'tools' I thought I needed, and that maybe - just maybe - my expectations for myself were a little too high and that sometimes it's ok to just be ok. Being able to shift my mindset ever so slightly and not give myself a hard time when ill has done me the world of good. I feel more like I can take on the challenges Crohn's throws at me, whilst also maintaining my mama skills I was worried I'd lose because I'm the 'poorly mum'.

Towards the end of our last session we briefly discussed body image. I'd like to delve into this in slightly more detail so will do so in another post - mainly because it's something I've been struggling with of late, as I don't know what I look like anymore. What is my body after pregnancy and Crohn's flares? What shape am I? Who knows?! I certainly don't.

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Headspace

If you follow me on social media, you would have seen that this week has been quite a challenging one for me - especially with regards to my Crohn’s and how I’m maybe not handling it in the best way this time. It’s an emotionally draining disease: the rollercoaster of feelings you can have in such a short space of time is quite overwhelming and this particular flare up seems different. I don’t know why, it just does. In all likelihood it could be down to the fact that I currently have no ‘normality’ yet; I’m still in a settling in period. My mundane routines are shot to hell what with the relocation from London, being a newlywed, going back to work after Maternity Leave and the mum-guilt associated with that. My support network is still there, oh for sure. But my personal go-to coping mechanisms aren’t necessarily.

I guess I just don’t feel like I have that guarantee this time, where my mind doesn’t need to flap so much (I have zero reason to think things won’t be ok and I am more than aware at the irrationality *eye rolls at self*) But for instance, these are the things I worry about…how I haven’t been back at work long enough to feel like I can prove myself, e.g. when my insides go mental don’t worry guys! Because when I’m healthy, oh I’m grand. Or to know how to function as a Mummy when really poorly. Or worrying about WHAT IS THE ACTUAL PLAN WITH MY CROHN’S. And when you’re sitting in a hospital bed on your lonesome in the middle of the night, you can’t help but let your mind wander.

There just seems so much uncertainty and for a woman who likes a plan…this one’s tough.

I spoke with my IBD nurses at the hospital and they recommended reaching out to the psychologists here. I’ve always been very vocal how for me counselling has been a great help – I’ve tried a variety over the years from one-to-one youth counselling, to a more general CBT approach and also group sessions for people with other chronic conditions. And now I feel that I need another outlet. For who I am as a person now. As a mother. As a wife. As a new West Country bumpkin. Where do I fit in and how do I learn how to manage with my Crohn’s for the current set up? Excuse the wanky term, but that’s a ‘journey’ that I’m going to have to go on and hopefully find out some of those answers.

I need to learn that only I put pressure on myself to be worrying for everyone one else in the world. But hey, once a worrier! But also that it’s key to know it’s all right that there’ll be things out of my control and everything will be just fine whether I’m in hospital or not. Whether I sit in this bed for another two weeks or I’m allowed home tomorrow. And that I’m also no use to anyone if I don’t allow myself time to get better: do as I’m told. Do as the doctors say. Rest when told. Let my body do its thing. Because my Crohn’s alone looks to be laden with many more hurdles and challenges over the coming months and I need to be ready for that. And it’s something I’ll be sharing with you all for sure.

From a more general standpoint as it stands with regards to my care, we are yet to manage a full meal. However we have had the camera up the ass today – wonderful Friday morning activity – and also had another x-ray to see what the bloody hell is happening inside me. There is a pesky 30cm section of small intestine that was found back in Summer 2015 and it was something we were ‘keeping an eye on’. Well the eyes have been subsequently peeled and nothing has changed so… but herein lies the problem. 30cm is a sizable chunk of small intestine. We don’t just whip that out willy nilly now guys. When discussing the large intestine, there are slightly more options surgically speaking – in that you can actually take it out completely if needs be. But when it comes to the unusually named small intestine (bearing in mind you have around 6m), you can’t live without that. And the more you chip away at it with resections, the more you leave yourself susceptible to future complications. Nutritional issues, feeding through tubes, being open to more serious diseases. Lovely stuff. So we’re tackling this from a medical point of view first. We’re mixing up the meds. We’re changing the doses. We’re hoping that I haven’t indirectly been overdosing on azathioprine as my weight has dropped. To quote the surgeon, is the resection off the table? No, not particularly. Is it something that requires urgent intervention this week? Also no.

So it’s time to get my game face on. It’s time to get my headspace sorted. Take those 3 minutes a day to meditate and zone out. To plan whatever is within my remit to prepare for.

And know that the rest will sort itself out.

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First Year

One full year since we welcomed our little boy into the world. And now we're parents to an already independent, chatty, funny little boy who has (somehow) managed to use his eyebrows to express his feelings - in context - since the day he arrived.

I say it every year, but this last year has been one of the quickest in my life. It has also been simultaneously one of the most rewarding and challenging.

Let's take it back to the start...

Anyone that followed my blog previously will have read the journey we went on throughout my pregnancy with regards to my Crohn's. Around this time last year it was my elective c-section date; elective due to previous abdominal Crohn's operations; c-section so my arse didn't fall out when pushing. Our bags were packed and off we headed to the hospital on the Friday morning ready to have a baby by lunchtime. And we did! Everything went as planned as it can and we were home by the Sunday. A weekend of new baby.

How that was a year ago is utterly beyond me. Even when looking at photos, it still doesn't quite compute that I've been pregnant, had a baby and now he's one.

But it's times like this weekend just gone, at his first birthday party (which let's be honest, he had no clue about, because why would he?!) and seeing him with his little mannerisms and movements, his interactions with others; it's intriguing watching him grow and develop into a proper little boy. How much he's changed over the last few months in particular - so close to walking...a few waddles and then a slow sit down to the floor again - yet you can see that determination there. It's fascinating and it makes me excited for what else is to come as he continues to grow up and become his own person.

Can we just take a moment to discuss a child's first birthday party though? What a strange party to have. The guest of honour is completely unaware of the occasion; it's mainly for photos and the memories for others and to look back and say "this is what we did for your first birthday". Because you can't do nothing, it's their first birthday! First ever celebration of birth! Equally you know that from age 2 and onwards, the parties will be much better... So you do baking in rainbow coloured sponge, you get the pink wafers and party ring biscuits and you display the finger food along side the bottles of squash. And at least I finally had a good reason to eat kids' party food: I was hosting an actual kid's party this time.

But being surrounded by all of our family and friends, it made me ever so thankful and realise how lucky we truly are as our own family to have such wonderful people around us.

Because it gets tough sometimes. Parenting is genuinely all the clichés you get told beforehand. I have learnt so much in what seems like such a short space of time. You are thrown in the deep end and learn on the job as a new parent - each day is different and throws challenges at you - some days are harder than others, but that's ok. The majority of people will have been through it too, at some point. And even if you are doing everything in your power to provide the best for your child, you will still read an article that makes you question how you are as a mummy or daddy, or hear the advice givers and nay-sayers and wonder what more you could be doing. My son makes me proud every day. And I have to know that as his mummy I am doing everything I can for him. And so is his daddy.

Happy First Birthday Son.
We love you very much.

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Breast Foot Forward

As I sat in bed this morning, night light on, feeding my son, I took a moment to enjoy and appreciate the close bond that breastfeeding has given me and my little boy over the last three months.

I always said that I wanted to be able to breastfeed exclusively for the first two weeks of my child's life - which I did - and that if I could, I'd like to get to six months; even if that was through combination feeding. But tried to maintain a 'what will be, will be' type-vibe (so many opinions and pressures for feeding a baby, as I'm sure you're aware. Is my baby being fed? Yes. Great. As you were then). I've been combination feeding for a good while now and I wouldn't change the routine we've fallen into, by any means. However I always thought that when I chose to stop breastfeeding it would be just that: my choice.

Mother Pukka X Parent Apparel jumper with all my parenting feels

Good ol' Crohn's and the rules that go with the scans and sedation that I need means that my breastfeeding days might be numbered. If ever there was a sign that we go full bottle, it's being told that for 48hrs after my MRI and at least 48hrs after the sedation, I cannot breastfeed. Granted I could express to keep my supplies up and running, but it works out at almost a week long with the appointments being so close together. So maybe I take stock and prepare for the changeover.

I'm just finding it all a tad tricky, you see...everything a double-edged sword. As much as I love the morning feed when it's all quiet and just bab and I, both half asleep, it's probably for the best that any energy I do have, I keep for myself so I can be a relatively functioning human being and be there to provide whatever my son needs.

*Haven't actually done this, FYI*

I'm also incredibly nervous about the forthcoming investigations; the MRI I thought had been parked for the colonoscopy, is in fact going ahead as they called me yesterday. So I had my pre-assessment yesterday and my bloods done (gosh, so tired), I have my scan next week and the colonoscopy the week after. BUT WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO FIND?! I know I'm not well. For God's sake it hurts to have the little man even lean on my tummy. Standing is also generally becoming a bit uncomfortable; it's easier to walk hunched over like Quasimodo, but it's also not a look I recommend when trying to push your pram.

We'll see though. I've done this before. I've definitely been through worse with my Crohn's. Got to keep the long game in mind; experiencing the changes in my son each day and that come Autumn, I'd like to be able to walk down the aisle without looking like I'm from the Hunchback of Notre-Dame.

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Return of the Ass Invasion

Not a sequel I'm particularly keen on, but it was only a matter of time until it was a knickers down/knees up appointment with the gastro team. And after what I thought was an MRI in the pipeline it appears that nope, let's get me in for a pre-assessment and colonoscopy in two weeks time. Joy. When the hospital called I thought it was to schedule in the aforementioned MRI - but it seems that my 'case', if you will, has been discussed in the clinic between the consultants and the best route forward is to get up all in my insides instead.

I know I'm not well at the moment (still essentially green in complexion because I'm so pale) and the bags under my eyes now have their own set of bags. I just get this massive anxiety over what they might find when they're routing round my intestines - especially now I've got the small human to be there for and to look after. I don't want to be the poorly mama. I want to be enjoying every mini milestone he hits as he grows and not need to abandon winding him because I need a sit down. He'll be three months on Friday and in the grips of teething so needless to say it's all just getting a tad overwhelming at present.

But despite my finding it tough at the moment, his beautiful little face makes every day seem that bit easier. Such a great distraction from the inevitable shits and pain.

I would just like to get the ass invasion over and done with and the medical plan put in place; I've got a wedding to plan and a baby to be with.

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Planning a Planned Arrival

Can't quite believe we're so close now! We had our 34 week appointment today with the c-section doctors, which naturally got me thinking about how you plan for a planned arrival...

I'm very much in the stage of pregnancy where I am completely freaking out, my dreams are stupidly vivid, I can't sleep for baby movement and all I can do is worry about what lies ahead. Will I be a good mum? Will baby be ok? What actually happens in a caesarean? I've read a lot recently that confirms that all of the above is normal and of course it's good to share my thoughts because it's not unusual to worry. It's a huge thing, after all! We've made a human being. I'm just going to have to wait and see, as I can't get myself all worked up over the unknown (a mantra I lived by with my Crohn's).

But my appointment today made me a tad nervous; it's the same as with my Crohn's ops in that you essentially consent to everything and wait and see what we find when they open you up.

We had confirmation today that due to previous abdo operations, my Gastro team will be in the theatre with the c-section team, myself and my other half. Hopefully when they make the incision, my bowel and scar tissue haven't caused too much of a problem in which case the Gastro team can bid farewell and then we can get baby out in a routine way. If however it obstructs what needs doing to access baby, they'll do their bit and then let the obstetricians take over. A little revolving door of surgeons around my nethers, if you will.

Like with any surgery there are risks; although there's been talk of a stoma and colostomy beforehand when I had my resection back in 2013, I didn't realise that it could be something that pops up in regards to when I deliver my baby. I guess in my mind I kept my bum issues separate from my front bum bits. There are of course risks associated with a routine c-section too, with everything from wound infection and bleeding to a hysterectomy. So yes, I'm a little worried. But as I used to say with my Crohn's ops, I was just another bottom to them - and this is just another caesarean. We have planned as much as we can and all we can do is hope that everything runs smoothly! In 30 days time.

Now I'm officially on maternity leave (post following shortly) I am just going to put all my energy into nesting and try not to let my worries get the better of me. And I'm also going to avoid reading some of the shite on the internet about how a c-section is the "easy way out" and that I'm "not giving birth" as I've had my baby "surgically removed".

I'll have to get back to you on that.

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Pack 'Em Up

31 weeks and all antenatal classes complete! Labour, c-sections, recovery, breastfeeding, bathing, generally looking after a small human...we are informed.

Informed, yes. Totally ready? Not quite. But sure.

The antenatal classes have been really helpful though in taking all the bits we've read over the last 8 months and preparing us to put it all into practice.

And so onto this week, which is the week of the 'hospital bag'. Packing the hospital bags though make everything seem that bit more real. Throughout my pregnancy there have been moments when it's like OH. WE ARE ACTUALLY HAVING A BABY, but then you just carry on being pregnant and stuff. Like when we decided nursery colours, when we built the furniture, when the nursery was complete. When browsing online for buggies and car seats and slings and learning what a travel system is. Let alone hitting the physical preg milestones that take you aback as there's a real life human growing inside.

Looking online it seems that you need to take everything you've ever owned with you to the hospital. There are a few bits that are irrelevant as we're having a caesarean, but generally there is a fair bit of packing to do! It also advises that it's split so that mama has a bag, and then a bag for dad and baby in case I'm whisked away somewhere.

Pinterest browsing (again) for all the bits and bobs

The baby's movements have gone from me feeling ripples to acknowledging that yes, that is definitely a foot, or a tiny back and little bottom. Blows my mind! After all, it's under 50 days to go now.

The parents-to-be (and a celebratory ale)

Had my penultimate midwife appointment yesterday and it's always a relief hearing baby's heart beating away nice and strong - and it got me thinking about how far into pregnancy we are and how I still have no clue as to whether I'm carrying a girl or boy. Will I ever get a sense of what my baby is? Am I out of touch to have no idea? All other preg women I've spoken to have had an inkling of what they're carrying; which has either been proved correct when they've given birth, or they've found out at their 20wk scan and they're bang on. The hormones in pregnancy are a funny thing because you have these irrational moments where you let your mind wander and then suddenly you're just a big ol' pregnant weepy lump, sitting on your sofa talking away to your small human saying sorry you don't know what they are.

Well at least I know I'm definitely carrying a baby. Despite my dream the other night about giving birth to a kitten.

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Thirties

We are 30 weeks pregnant. THIRTY. That only leaves 8 weeks until we're booked in. Whatever happens in the coming weeks we will definitely have a baby in 59 days.

Had a bit of a tricky weekend and subsequent morning today, mind. Heartburn still causing me grief - so much so I vomited on myself in the shower from burping. Nice. My Braxton Hicks are certainly getting stronger and making it much harder to stand up straight when they're present. All part and parcel of entering the 8 months preg club I guess!

However what I wasn't expecting this early was to lose a little bit of my plug.

There's no way to discuss it without being gross, so if preg detailed talk is too much, scroll down to the safe zone my friend...

Naturally, reading up on your mucus plug isn't the most pleasant of topics but something that needed to be done when you see what can only be described as a blob of clearish snot where it shouldn't be. A quick phone call with my midwives confirmed that as there was no pink in colour or blood, labour isn't imminent (can be anything from a few hours or few weeks if the full plug, or 'show', has happened). But that it does sound like some has come out and to keep an eye on things down there, rest up, etc.

Now I'm contending with pressure in my nethers, knowing baby is head down and that I'm without some of my plug. Please don't try and leave just yet oh miniature one! I haven't even packed your hospital bag!

*SAFE ZONE*

Needless to say there will be a delayed #bumpingalong picture as I am not wearing anything that's publicly acceptable; pants, t-shirt. A for-my-eyes-only vibe. I did manage to shave my legs all on my own though - except now they look like sausage meat.

So quick catch up on our first antenatal class last week for you: it was all about Intervention & Caesareans, the latter being the main bit for us. Hearing about being induced and seeing some of the tools used made my tummy go all funny. Yet strangely, talking frankly about the proceedings in a c-section didn't really phase me. I guess it's because I've had 14 ops with my Crohn's so a surgical set up is almost more favourable for me than a natural one!? Surgical is my natural set up.

Tonight's class is all about boobies. Well, officially Feeding Baby. But breastfeeding and bottle feeding, I believe. I've tried to get a bit of a head start and started reading 'Breastfeeding Made Easy' by Geraldine Miskin as I'd love to be able to breastfeed my human that I'm growing. I am aware however that it's not something all mums are able to do, whether by choice or otherwise, so I don't want to put pressure on myself if it turns out that my boobies can't do the feeding.

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Getting Low

This baby is down, but certainly not out - yet.

And I obviously am referring to baby's position in my uterus, rather than their emotional state.

Saw the midwife on Wednesday and I explained exactly how I was feeling with regards to the pressurised nethers. We had a listen of baby and their little heart was pumping away nice and regular; always a relieving feeling. But my bab also took the midwife by surprise with the force in which they kicked...we have a strong one inside! My midwife said how typically you get the ripples and what not at this stage, but always good to see such strong movement from the baby. Well done to our human.

She then did the usual process of feeling where baby is positioned and straight away said that she could understand why I am so uncomfortable. It appears that baby is definitely head down and very low - usually found around the mid-thirty weeks [that matched up to all the bits I read online in forums, etc.] However for me not to worry as baby can stay there for a good while and they've not yet twisted around to be engaged. Naturally though, I would quite like the miniature one to stay in there as long as possible please! But the other half and I also understand that baby is going to come, when baby is going to come and there's not much we can do about it! In the meantime we've been told to keep a closer eye on my Braxton Hicks as they've been causing me quite a bit of pain and discomfort - but irregularly, which is the way we want it to stay for now. If in doubt then we call the midwives and talk through what's going on and take it from there...

For baby's arrival, the man and I have been doing a countdown to week 38 as that's when we're booked in for our c-section, but there were suggestions of working back from week 37 instead as medically this is when they consider a baby full term; anywhere between 37 and 42 weeks is good. So say for instance our little one makes an early appearance at 34 weeks, technically they're only going to be 3 weeks early (from what's considered a full term baby) as opposed to 6 weeks early (with the 40 week total). Does that make sense? I believe baby just gets extra layers of fat after 37 weeks that aren't essential to life - they're all readymade by then.

In other news, H&M aren't helping the situation when it comes to tiny clothes. So it appears I accidentally bought some more for our tiny person.

BUT WILL YOU JUST LOOK AT THE HAT.

Had my rhesus injection this afternoon which was just a big ball of crap feeling in my arm. Will only have to have this again if baby is of a positive blood type and our bloods cross at birth. To be honest, a crappy injection will be the least of my concerns when I'm there all c-sectioned! (Is c-sectioned a verb? Strong phrase all the same). Such a predicament though with my Anti-D injection; I'm right handed but I also sleep on my left. What arm to sacrifice for the day?! I opted to give up my right arm as I have every intention of getting horizontal to nap asap. Complete preparation for our first weekend of nothing.

No official plans and I can't ruddy wait. Ahh to just lay down in soft clothes with my bump guardian...bliss.

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Baby Showering

I was treated by all my nearest and dearest gals to a bloody lovely Baby Shower this weekend. Such a wonderful day. And of course as soon as I walked in and sat down I had a cry because, hormones. But in the loveliest way, naturally.

Few snapshots of vintage tea party fun:

We're also (somehow) at 28 weeks today and I seem to have embodied all of the stereotypical third trimester feelings in the last week: taking forever to roll over and get comfortable, only to realise I was more comfortable where I was. My desire to wear trousers is ever decreasing. Not being able to get up without moaning. And of course the approach of can't reach it, don't need it. 

Which brings me nicely to my #bumpingalong for today. Disclaimer in that I'm very tired and generally moving is annoying me. I also have a baby who is full of the hiccups. So today you've got me in what is considered perhaps an impractical/unprofessional, yet comfortable fleeting moment at my desk.

NB: This is not how I sit all day. Oh but if only I could.

Clothes are all non-maternity as fortunately I bought clothes many moons ago that were apparently built for a pregnant woman's figure anyway! So loose jumpsuit/pinafore item (?!) is from asos and is a size 12, paired with a size L H&M jersey stretchy top. Choker and red lippy optional - I just felt a bit French when getting ready this morning. I also need a hair wash, but you can't have it all.

With regards to the miniature human's nursery we're pretty much there now! We've got a few major items still to get, like the pram and car seat, but we're more than happy to wait a while to get those. The nursery has taken shape in the way that we hoped it would and now all that's really missing is our little person. Everything they need is just SO small. My heart explodes every time I go in the room because it makes me realise how real everything is now and how everything is going to change. But again, in the loveliest - albeit challenging - of ways.

Almost there!

From a building point of view things have slowed down now, but from an admin and midwife point of view it seems to only be just beginning! I have the midwife twice this week as I am O negative blood type which means I am part of 15% of women that are rhesus negative. Because of this it means I have to have an Anti-D injection at 28 weeks and maybe again at the birth if the blood of myself and baby were to cross. It's not so much a worry with this pregnancy, it may just mean that some extra care is needed to avoid any problems if I was to get pregnant again.

Essentially, if my baby is rhesus positive and their blood gets into my bloodstream, my immune system can develop antibodies against the rhesus antigens. If I was to be pregnant with another rhesus positive baby next time round, my antibodies can attack that baby's red blood cells which could potentially result in haemolytic disease of the newborn. This leads to anaemia and jaundice in the baby. [More info] So injection visit is the plan for this week!

Now all I really want to do is have a bath and a lie down whilst this active baby carries on dancing.

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All Change

My last post didn't really seem the right setting to casually show you a picture of me at 22 weeks #bumpingalong so I gave it a new one of its own.

The look I've gone for today has indirectly ended up looking like a burnt orange with two toothpicks for legs. Sure.

Getting bigger by the day. Obviously.

Maternity (bargain) shorts from H&M which actually only cost me £7, despite the label and protests from the checkout lady that it should in fact be £24.99. Paired with a non-maternity t-shirt because I just needed to be comfortable with bump today after this morning's escapades. Both in a size 10.

This photo has also shown me how much I am in need of a tan as I'm almost see through. Luckily we have our BABY MOON to look forward to next week! Roll on the non-alcoholic Sangria in the Spanish sunshine. Even ordered some maternity swimwear today and if you're lucky I might show you all. Oh aye.

So many changes happening to my body though. Some glorious that you can't help but be in awe of what the human body can do. And some, well...you can't help but be in awe of what the human body can do. Just for very different reasons.

Let me break it down for you, with some bodily highlights.

Baby Moving
As my last post pointed out, our baby has been moving for a while now and there were a few developments this morning that reiterated to me that it's not always as straight forward as you think. But good news is, baby is well and that's what matters. Hopefully the other half and I will still get to see the movements get bigger, despite our baby hiding behind my placenta. Yum.

Breasts
These are out of control. They've grown like three sizes in a matter of weeks and now they're just all over the place and under my armpits and simply ginormous. You can call me Tits McGee. Are they going to keep growing the rest of the time? If so they will undoubtedly end up larger than my head and I don't know how veiny they can be before they're essentially green in colour. And I'm not even starting to lactate yet...

Wind
No one told me how windy you'd get when preggers. I've always been of the upper wind section with Crohn's (although sometimes pretend the bathroom is a soundproof room as an orchestra falls out my ass). Yet the noises coming out of me are shameful. No odour. Just noise. Although sometimes no noise; just air slowly escaping like from a deflating balloon. It's terribly embarrassing. But that - if anything - is where my Crohn's is an advantage: awkward flatulence is not a new situation. It's just the volume, in every sense when pregnant; noise and amount.

Baby Bump
I still very much from the back look like a regular gal who is not with child but then when I turn around it's a baby. Here it is! The bump is getting bigger every day and I'm awfully concerned about just how far out it's going to go by the time I'm at my 38 weeks, just from a practical side of things. How do I even stand up straight then? At least we'll have these #bumpingalong posts to look back on for comparison!

Piles
Now I had to put this in because it made me laugh so much. I read in one of the pregnancy books that around these last few weeks of pregnancy (so week 17-22 ish) piles can begin to become a problem for ladies. The best thing about what I read was one of the old wives tales that supposedly 'helps'. Ready? Cut a potato wedge and stick it between your bumcheeks on the area that's sore. It was slightly more eloquently put than that - but the imagery! A cold potato wedge in your bottom! If anyone gives this a go, I hope it works. I'm clearly not from the medical profession but hey if you're into that sort of thing...

I'll be hiding in a dark room now - but these things needed to be said.

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Hidden Kicks

22 weeks today and as we're all aware, Mondays are never the best days of the week anyway. And today was certainly no different as I sat in my GP waiting to see the doctor after a lack of sleep for worrying about our baby.

As I mentioned a few weeks back, I've been feeling baby movement for a good while now - established timings and a pattern to keep an eye on. Even being able to see the moving through my clothes. But over the last few days, the movements seemed less often and when they did happen in the usual time slot, they just seemed so faint. I've been beside myself with worry the last day or two and it culminated in me being awake last night willing our baby to do a big movement so I knew all was fine.

You just feel useless. And then you worry that your body isn't working properly and that your baby isn't going to be all right. So when you pass a time frame where usually things would happen and there's nothing...it just made me so anxious. Especially as a first-time mum-to-be as I have absolutely zero experiences to base this all on, so naturally you look for reassurance where you can.

My doctor felt my bump this morning and said it was the right size and felt as it should for my gestation. And the main thing for me was that I also got to hear our baby's heartbeat. I can't describe the relief of knowing that baby was doing ok and things were actually as it should be.

Turns out that looking back over my scan notes, my placenta is positioned anterior high which means it's at the front of my uterus, as opposed to the back; when the placenta is at the front it can sometimes cushion the movement of the baby. So it seems likely that our hyperactive mini human went on a wander and moved to a place where even though they're moving all the time still, they've softened the blow of kicking me hard. They just put us through the mill emotionally instead of physically!

I spoke to my midwives this morning and they let me know that I'd done exactly the right thing in following it up with a medical professional. At the risk of sounding silly, I was all sorts of emotional, worrying and I just wanted to someone to tell me that I was being dramatic and it was fine - again searching for that reassurance.

My other half was so incredibly supportive with all this going on, too. Speaking as the pregnant one in our relationship, I've had to have moments to sit back and realise that he only knows how I'm feeling with baby based on what I share with him. He can't tell the difference in feeling of a flutter and more substantial kick. Let alone if those patterns of feeling have changed? So for him to be able to keep me as calm as possible when really he has no idea either, just makes me appreciate him even more.

What an anecdote to share when they're older: "Ahh, do you remember that time you played hide and seek with my placenta? You rascal, you."

But yes, at least now we know that our little one is actually doing wonderfully. They just made their mummy and daddy temporarily shit themselves.

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PS: Kicks Count do a band you can use to keep track of periods of movement. Super helpful in these situations, especially if the baby brain has kicked in. And their website is full of such useful info as well.

My Kicks Count wristband on arrival

Half Time

So although Monday was my 19 weeks, it was officially my halfway point as I'm booked in for my c-section at 38 weeks. Where has the time gone?!

Also had the hospital on Monday to see the Crohn's midwife team - I explained to them that I'd been feeling a tad under the weather the previous week but wasn't able to tell them if it was Crohn's, pregnancy, or a combination of the two. Got my bloods done to check all my levels for general pregnancy but also IBD and they said they would be in touch if something came back off kilter.

Then there I am yesterday at my work Summer Festival with a missed call from the hospital. WAH. Luckily they called back; I was dreading it a bit as they said they'd only call if the results weren't fine...Turns out it wasn't my Crohn's flaring which was a massive relief - my inflammatory markers were hardly noteworthy. It's my iron.

I've always been borderline anaemic for as long as I can remember, but on the right side of normal, still. It seems that now my iron levels have dropped quite a lot since being preggers and my hemoglobin levels are rather abnormal. Still no giving blood for me then! Oopsy daisy. I'm putting this decrease in iron down to essentially being a vegetarian because meat is still making me feel poorly. Looks like I'll have to go on prescription iron for a while to make sure that I'm not a temporary narcoleptic whilst growing the bab and to also make sure I eat more spinach like Popeye for an extra boost. Just not looking forward to the side effects of the iron tablets (oh my Crohnie bowels).

But enough about that! Onto the nice things! Here's me #bumpingalong for week 19 in a maternity purchase from asos in a size 10, plus my new 'mum' barnet. Look at my bump...it's getting so big carrying my mango-sized baby. Ahh.

This baby is so active though! I find it all so amazing and surprising as I am only 19 weeks - I feel lucky to be experiencing such movement already.

We were starting the foundations of nesting for after our scan next week and there was one moment this weekend where our baby was going nuts! I didn't even have to get baby daddy's attention as it was so noticeable through my clothes. Our baby is definitely in a routine now, so I'm aware of when to keep an eye out for the dancing and can move my Kicks Count band around another number.

Am hoping to capture the moving on video and if I do I will share on here. It's magical/like something out of 'Alien'.

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What's in a Name?

I honestly didn't think choosing a name for the child that I'm carrying would be so bloody hard. Naive, perhaps. But it's really quite the task! Don't underestimate the responsibility in naming another human forever. Pets are hard enough.

Through what must be hundreds of names that the fiancé and I have looked at, girls names seem so much easier to pick. They just seem to have more variety? Whereas the boys name seem quite samey (sorry chaps!) Maybe that's just what it appears to me - but the general consensus from other parents I've spoken with, is that they also found girls names easier to choose.

Are there any hints and tips for choosing a name? As we don't want to find out what we're having, it obviously means we need to have names for both a little boy and a little girl. If there's a little girl growing in me then we're sorted! If it's a boy, then it is currently nameless...But then again maybe it will mean we do actually find out at our 20 week scan in two weeks - because then we know what sort of name we have to choose.

Is there a criteria to follow to help you decide what you name your child? Or is it an epiphany and suddenly you have that moment of 'I hereby name my offspring ...'? If I'm to go by some of the names that have popped up in my (very) vivid dreams, then there's currently a little boy in my womb and I've called him Hector.

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Balderdash?

Old Wives Tales, ladies and gents.

You know the ones...sitting on a cold step gives you piles, don't go outside with wet hair as you'll catch a cold. And a new one I read today: never open the oven door when cooking a soufflé (!) None of which are deemed scientifically true, by the way.

But it's the old wives tales related to pregnancy that really tickle me. Most of them are for working out whether you're having a boy or girl and this is of great interest to me. As the end of my pregnancy is scheduled to the high hills due to my Crohn's, it's unlikely that we'll find out what we're having as that is the only part that will truly be a surprise for us. Of course this can change, so don't hold me to it!

So pass me the ring on a string as I try and work out through some of the more common tales if we're having a Harry or a Harriet...

1. Sweet or Salt
• Apparently craving all things sweet is a sign that you're having a girl, salty or protein-rich foods mean it could be a boy.
• I've gone off meat and all I want to eat is pick'n'mix style sweets, so I'm going team girl.
2. Morning Sickness
• A general sign of pregnancy, but excessive nausea and morning sickness can mean a baby girl.
• I had a terrible first trimester with nausea and sickness so I would definitely put me in the girls' camp for this one.
3. Pregnancy Glow
• Hair worthy of a Herbal Essence advert and a bright complexion could signify a little boy. Whereas bad skin and the missing 'glow' could be a little girl.
• Bit of both here...some people have said that the 'glow' is very much present, although my skin hasn't been great. 50/50.
4. Moody or Mellow
• More moody = girl. Chilled out = boy.
• Ha! If I was answering I'd say I've been quite chilled out, but if the other half was answering (and I was being honest with myself) then I'd probably be more moody. So girl.
5. Carrying High or Low
• Legend says that if you're carrying high you're carrying a girl and you'll be carrying low if you're carrying a boy.
• From the back I don't look preggers at all, so in that sense I'm bump up front. But its height? I'd have to say low, meaning there's a little boy in there.
6. Ring Test
• If the ring swings in a circular motion, 'tis a girl! If it's swinging back and forth/side to side, 'tis a boy.
• Well this was just ridiculous. It didn't really move at all! But when it did it went back and forth (did it though?!) in which case it's the boys' team.
7. Heart Rate
• If the baby's heart is beating faster than 140bpm, then there's a wee girl in the bump.
• Next scan isn't until mid-July so I'll have to keep a sneaky eye out. Maybe.

Based on the above, I haven't got a clue?! Out of 7 old wives tales I got 3 for girl, 2 for boy, one 50/50 and one TBC.

All in all we obviously just hope for a happy healthy baby, boy or girl. But it is good fun doing all the silly games to try and guess!

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Journey to Bump

The road to pregnancy was an odd one for me. Not that there's a normal route to being preggers, mind. But before you read on, I don't want you thinking that this post is about the birds and the bees. It's more...the birds, the bees and the bowels? Bowels being the key part.

Having Crohn's and knowing that at some point in my life I wanted to have a baby, was a combination that I'd worried about since I was first diagnosed; I was advised to look at freezing my eggs (as fertility in Crohn's patients wasn't the best). The thing is, the thought of actually having children was so far away in my mind at the time, that it was strange to potentially make that decision at the end of my teen years. Who knew how I'd feel in five, ten years time?

I decided not to freeze my eggs. I felt that if having a family naturally was something that I was supposed to do, then it would happen. If not, then so be it. I'm a strong believer in a family being a family regardless of its set up and how you all got there.

When I got to an age and stage in my relationship where talking about having a baby was a real thing, I had so many questions for my consultants...Can I have children? If I am fortunate enough to have children, are they going to get my Crohn's? How would Crohn's effect my pregnancy? Will I be able to have a natural labour due to all my previous operations?

In a nutshell...I'm pregnant. So it seems that in the first instance, yes I am able to have children (well at least conceive). Whether this baby that I'm currently growing gets my Crohn's? That I don't yet know. Crohn's & Colitis UK's info on Pregnancy and IBD says that "5 out of 100 children born to couples where one parent has Crohn's might be expected to develop IBD. Even with genetic predisposition, other additional factors are probably needed to trigger IBD." We will just have to wait and see and hope that our baby is as healthy as can be.

With regards to Crohn's during my pregnancy - this has been a complete turn up for the books! It seems being with child is the best medicine! Who knew pregnancy would be so beneficial to my bowel?! As it stands my Crohn's has calmed down immensely; for the first time in years all my levels are settled and I'm not worried if I sneeze, I'll poo. If anything, it's quite the opposite. It's like my body has forgotten how to go to the toilet-toilet and that's the oddest sensation for someone that has, on average, probably shat 10-15 times a day for the last 7 years. If TMI, sorry. But, you know...Crohn's.

Fiancé and I are in the midst of talking to the antenatal team about my staying on Azathioprine and whether we go back on Humira. As unlike Aza, they're not yet sure on the use of Humira in the third trimester (although if urgent/required then they'll let you. Pros and cons, etc.) But it looks like I may not need Humira after all if things stay the way they are!

Then that leads me to the last question in my little list of worries: labour. The grand finale to this whole musical that is pregnancy. Actually getting the miniature person out of me. Gosh.

I won't be allowed to do any pushing as - to quote my Crohn's surgeon - "my arse would fall out" and I for one am not ok with that and neither are they. We're all also keen to make sure that me and baby are safe, however that needs to be done. So elective cesarean it is. Scary thing is, is that our c-section date is already booked in! I now know categorically that I'll have babe in arms at 38 + 4.

Unless the little human makes an early arrival.

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Still flaring?

And my level of frustration towards my Crohn's has skyrocketed this week!

I have the first of two hen doos on the weekend, followed by the second next weekend...then my holiday on 11th August...and then the two weddings at the end of the month. Not to mention my full time job.

I certainly do not need to be tired, vomiting, shitting out water and crying. Nope. Nahhh. No. Definitely not.

However, I do have my gastro consultant appointment on Thursday of this week. I'm not expecting anything amazing to come out of it, but just having them prod my stomach and realise how hard it's gone - in a weird way makes me feel better as it would confirm that I'm flaring.

I know it sounds ridiculous as I'm 5 years into my IBD journey - but sometimes I find it hard to determine if I'm officially in a flare up, or just really struggling with the day-to-day symptoms of Crohn's; the fatigue, the loose stools, etc.

I'm also curious as to what people think about Azathioprine? I have a very up and down relationship with it and I'm considering stopping it after I've spoken to my consultant about other options.

Either way, hopefully they'll be able to patch me up for the Summer!

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Dr Mitton's Response

Kirsty Bruce - one of the many proactive IBDers - emailed Tom Smith, the Chief Executive of the British Society of Gastroenterology after the initial #junkfood debacle and today received a reply.

Saw it on Facebook and asked if I could share as it is definitely worth a read!

I thought you'd like to see the text from a statement that Dr Mitton has released this morning. See below. 

Tom Smith 

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20th June 2014 

First and foremost I would like to apologise for the distress that I have caused by what was shown on the BBC to all Crohn's Disease and Ulcerative Colitis patients. I was unable to respond more quickly to the reactions to this report due to very heavy clinical commitments. I feel that what I said and the subsequent coverage has been misinterpreted and I would like to clarify this now. 

I said that Crohn's Disease occurs in those who are genetically susceptible and that the unexplained recent increase in numbers diagnosed amongst young people in the UK is likely to be related to lifestyle. I did mention pre diagnosis diet and multiple courses of antibiotics as possible factors preceding the development of overt disease in some cases. I did not say that junk good or frequent courses of antibiotics CAUSE Crohn's Disease. I am very aware there are many patients with IBD who eat a very healthy and nutritious diet and have always done so before their diagnosis. 

However, since the initial report on 18th of June there have been subsequent newspaper and television reports that focus on the assumption that Crohn's Disease seems to be "caused" by junk food and multiple antibiotics. This is not my belief and is a distortion. 

I did not mean to imply any element of self-infliction and I am appalled to think this could set back public perception of IBD or that sufferers might be blamed for their own pain and misfortune. 

I would like to sincerely apologise again for the distress that my comments have caused. 

Dr Sally Mitton
Consultant Paediatric Gastroenterologist

Make of that what you will, but like I said, wanted to share with you all.

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And so it begins...

Well hasn't today's press been full of hard facts re IBDs?! How about noooooo.

Without going into detail again (as yesterday completely and utterly drained me) here are the links of what I've come across in the online media today:

Daily Mail - "Junk food blamed for soaring rate of Crohn's disease among young"

The Times - "Junk food and antibiotics blamed for rise in Crohn's disease among young"

The Telegraph - "Crohn's disease in teens jumps 300 per cent in 10 years fuelled by junk food"

And what was in this morning's Metro:

Good morning to you, Dr Mitton's lies. It's been so long!

I have a feeling that this will be ongoing; but hopefully in a positive way, and the backlash from IBDers is publicised as quickly as this misinformation spread.

I was having a conversation on Twitter last night and the point was raised in that surely the figures will have risen so dramatically due to more people being aware of symptoms...not being afraid to seek medical advice. But we all know what Dr Sally Mitton thinks.

So onto this evening where I am momentarily stepping away from the #junkfood madness and hoping, willing England to win against Uruguay.

COME ON BOYS!!!!

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