Number Thirteen:The Skidderz and I…

WARNING: I have been putting off this post as it could really be a ‘Well, you had to be there’ kind of affair! In which case we’ll have a very happy audience of two! (Plus Liz and Dr Love!)

Way, way back many centuries ago I was a fairly newly qualified teacher (with a lot of time on my hands now we come to look back on it!) bumbling through life in a middle school when into my classroom (and into my life) popped My Skidz. (She has earned this title by having one of the rankest senses of humour I have ever known for such a lady-like individual! Plus her surname is Kidd so it just works!) Hilariously she came to observe me teach- she was a student and I was the master- ahh, how times have changed! She is now ‘super career woman’ and I haven’t worked in more than a year (Looking likely that I’ll be back in the world of work about October time- sooner than I thought- so I’m happy!) So, anyway- the tables have turned and My Skidz is now an indispensable assistant head in her own middle school. We had our fair share of fun whilst working together for her NQT year- me disguising myself as a plumber and working on her radiator during my PPA- nothing can put her off her outstanding teaching you know! (and clearly I was fully planned, prepped and assessed to the max during this particular week as I had time to be dressing up and arsing about!)

Whiz forward a few years and I have one very fond friend- one I could call upon at the drop of a hat (she’s not my only one just the most available- read into this what you will!) On the eve of my first operation, (the lumpectomy- pah! How pathetic!) I had reason to call upon My Skidz. An evil winter vomiting bug had swept its way through our house and the capable, coping ‘usband you’ve heard so much about was last to be struck down, rendering him useless as hospital sidekick!  It had been three weeks since diagnosis, three weeks of badgering my loving other half about whether or not he’d cried yet!

‘Have you cried today? Did you cry when you thought about that? Will you cry when they put me to sleep?’ There was a brief moment during Disney’s Tangled when he claims he shed a tear but it was the putting to sleep bit that he had assured me would get his waterworks flowing- really not sure why seeing a grown man cry was so important to me but it was at the time- and now he was going to get out of it!!!

So, I suddenly had an opening… and the desire to sleep in a bed other than with the ‘vomiting one’! Lucky Skidz- she got the call and was at my front door in minutes.

An emergency sleepover and a Wicked sing-along car ride later and we were in the waiting area! The place was packed full of nerves… a lot of nerves- mainly about whether or not visitors would be allowed to stay- they’re very strict but My Skidderz assured me she’d stand her ground and stay as long as she could! The pressure had got to us a little by the time we reached the lift and the matron lady announced that visitors could come no further- all except me! Yep- they read my name out as being allowed a visitor and what did we do? We whooped with joy then studied the ground as we were instantly the most hated pair in the squashed lift! Slight lack of sensitivity towards my fellow patients- opps! Anyway- she was IN and we were soon settled in our own room. Not for long though because then Liz entered our lives- almost as giddy with excitement as the two of us she quickly asked us to take another patient under our wing. ‘You two seem so positive, I’ve got a really nervous lady out there, will you try and cheer her up on our way to the scan*?’ A challenge? Well of course!

*When I say scan… I in fact mean easy ultrasound followed by the most awful mammogram ever- it involved a hook being inserted into my boob to mark the depth of a second lump they’d discovered. Yep- a hook like on a fishing line- into my squished, clamped down boob, whilst my neck was forced into an incredibly uncomfortable angle by the evil mammogrammer machine! Oh yes- I’m all up for getting you to check your own boobs but you’ll not hear me crowing about the delights of mammograms I assure you!

So having jollied along our ‘other patient’ and had a second lump confirmed it was time to roll on the surgical stockings…photo opportunity of course! (Just wish my consultant hadn’t walked in as we were really messing about!) I honestly do not know what had got into us but we were just very over excited- our little way of dealing with the seriousness of the occasion? I think she was just trying to jolly me along too really because she also managed to take her role as information provider to sick ‘usband seriously- she was the one who passed on the news of the second lump- yep a second tumour- breast cancer… twice. Possibly not the easiest phone call she’s ever made.

Sadly My Skidz wasn’t in the room when Dr Love (I kid you NOT!) introduced himself- this was just too much for me and I actually had to be asked to calm down and slow my breathing in order to be put to sleep properly. I even asked to see his badge as proof and enquired as to whether or not there was a Mrs Love. I think the drugs were beginning to kick in at this point- well that’s my defence and I’m sticking to it!

Next thing I knew I was coming round and My Skidz was by my side armed with snacks, treats and a squeeze of my arm as we together surveyed the damage done to my chest- minimal at that point!

Now don’t be thinking that this was a one time deal- she’s been re-drafted in since. Easter School put pay to Rob coming to my chemo lesson but My Skidz was again by my side- armed with her famous notebook (she actually wrote 5 pages!) and logged the name of every member of staff in the Macmillan unit.

She’s a superstar and has well earned her iPhone icon of ‘Angel+Princess’ I give you… My Skidderz. P.S. Happy 30^th you lovely old lady you! Xx