So where was I? Oh yes, I was saying that the McBaby was giggling at the 30 Rock episode called "Emanuelle goes to Dinosaurland" and seemed to be ok after his 8 week jabs.
So, I put him in his bouncer and put some soup on the stove. Bang - then started the uncontrollable crying. Heartbreaking and unrelenting. I felt so awful. Then he went very purple, and with advice from ma soeur, I gave him some Calpol.
He was not his usual self and then started to flop around and shudder.
PUtting on my best calm voice, I called the nurse who advised us to come back to the surgery. I was there is 5 minutes. We went in and she suggested that he see the doctor who had to be called from his out-visits.
The doctor arrived and examined him, saying the baby wasn't as chatty and interactive as he had been and despite saying he was probably ok, said we should take him to hospital to be checked over.
McBaby then had a spurt of diarrhoea which went everywhere and the nurse - bless her heart - helped me clean up the mess. After that, he seemed a lot better and gurgled and smiled at the nurse.
I called MrM, who also appeared at the surgery within 5 minutes. We dropped my car off at home and took MrM's to the hospital. We checked in at the children's A&E department, waited for an hour and then were seen by the triage nurse. She put us in a room to wait and I had a sudden icy chill in my stomach. Which is ironic as it was caused by something that could be quite hot - the fact I suddenly remembered that I never turned the soup off when we left the house.
When I told MrM, he simply said: "I'll go and turn it off. And then I'll come back for you." No shouting, no drama, no reprimands. I think I literally kicked myself.
After an hour, a lovely doctor checked out the little man, and proclaimed him to be fine. "I feel like I've wasted your time", I said. But he could not be nicer and said it was normal for first-time mothers to worry and that their job was to ensure everything was ok.
"It's nice to see a healthy child for a change," he said.
Another nurse checked out the little man and he smiled and cooed at her continuously. And out we went into the night.
I tried MrM, but his phone was going straight to answerphone, giving me mental images of our house on fire, or his being in an accident on the M4 in his haste. In the meantime, I carried the McBaby for 20 minutes through the rain to the train station. FInally, I got hold of MrM who assured me that all was fine at home, but that he'd heard sirens near the house and had seen smoke nearby, giving him the same icy chill.
He said he'd come back to us and to wait in the warm. Unfortunately, this meant that green coffee shop. We waited and observed that we were the only people in there who weren't SPanish.
Then a call from MrM - that was quick, I thought.
"My car has broken down somewhere on the M4 near Theale," he said. "You will have to get the train after all".
MOre icy cold feelings in my stomach.
The McBaby slept all through his first experience of public transport and we arrived home before meeting MrM who was despatched to his work in a recovery vehicle.
And to think that we will have to go through this again when McBaby has his next injections in a month's time.....