Writing and water and wiping in coils

[ailbhe]

It's been a week, so now I need to send my letter to Other People. I'm not sure who. I think I might just send an exact copy, with another cover letter saying "I sent the enclosed letter to the GP I have seen most recently about my problems. I have had no response. Please let me know how I can most effectively get some treatment," to the gynaecologist and the Patient Advice and Liaison Services and the consultant ob/gyn who saw me about the traumatic birth counselling, because she is so helpful generally it's hard to believe, and the Practice Manager at my GP's practice because the Health Visitor told me to.

I feel bad for complaining though. It's obviously more ingrained than I'd think. I know that I should have been sorted out by now, but I feel bad for pointing it out to them.

I brought Linnea to the clinic yesterday so that I could see the Health Visitor (she weighs just less than 13kg, by the way - much lighter than her size leads people to believe). My usual Health Visitor wasn't there, but the one who was read the letter and reassured me that I hadn't been "doing nothing", I had been "giving them the benefit of the doubt" and trusting them to get back to me, and now I'm reluctantly realising that they aren't worthy of that trust so I have to get a bit naggy. So I feel a bit better now.

Then Linnea and I went swimming. And this evening Rob and Linnea and I went swimming. She's a little more. . . confident than I like. A little too... self-assured. Reckless, even.

This morning Linnea and I went to the library for Rhyme Time, and I got some books out and ordered some more books, and we walked from the library (in the rain) to my friend's house, only when I rang the bell there was no answer. Linnea refused to leave the sheltered doorstep, because, although she had her all-in-one suit and her wellies, it was wet out there beyond the overhang, and she refused to get into the buggy. I called Rob to see if he'd meet us and picked Linnea up to forcibly carry her away. The resultant screams woke my friend up and she let us in, so that was ok.

We spent the afternoon there. My friend's second baby is due in 6 days' time. It's all very exciting - she's hoping for a home birth, and since everything went so well and easily for her last time, there's a very good chance she'll get it. I can live vicariously through it, too, since I might be babysitting her first baby, who is just 4 weeks older than Linnea.

Wiping - that's about noses. Linnea's nose. It's a much-wiped area, and it's either dry and scaly because of encrusted yuck, or because the skin is dry and scaly. It's very sad. She doesn't seem to care at all.

Comments

[kalmn.livejournal.com]

I feel bad for complaining though. It's obviously more ingrained than I'd think. I know that I should have been sorted out by now, but I feel bad for pointing it out to them.

would it help if other people were upset that you didn't complain more? because i could be upset. but only if it would be helpful.

Helpful!

[ailbhe]

Well, it makes me laugh, so that's good!