This article was written for Annabel & Grace, which is now part of Rest Less.
I write this having just returned from from Singapore, rather wishing I was still sitting by a glistening pool with the merry shrieks of other people’s grandchildren! The wonderful holiday which we were going to have did not quite turn out to plan. But I did learn yet another important lesson.
Having been a “good granny” my lovely daughter in law suggested we have five days holiday in Singapore. This was to break the journey to Australia and to enjoy ourselves as a family after a very work intensive three years. Of course I jumped at it. Singapore! One of my favourite places. Yum yum food. And the chance to be in a five star hotel with my family… in the sun. What could possibly be nicer?
The dream came true. We arrived at the 5 star Shangri La Rasa In Sentosa, a small island resort (now joined by bridge to Singapore.) The hotel is one of THE, if not the most “kid friendly” hotels in the world. It has magnificent facilities. Wifi everywhere. Crystal clear swimming pools. Mountains of warm towels. Water chutes and every form of water toy. A beach. Everything works as it should. The staff are delightful – full of smiles and nothing is too much trouble.
Our first day was absolutely wonderful. The sun shone. My two grandchildren looking like two little Dickensian characters, ghostlike white, in factor 50, scurried up and down the water chutes to their hearts’ delight. The squeals of joy and sparkling eyes said it all. We had made a really good decision to have a happy family time before the final parting. In the evening we grown ups went to bed at the same time as the kids! I was sharing a room with my four year old grandson. My little granddaughter was with her parents. I love sharing with my grandson. We had twin beds but he has a habit of climbing into bed with me and wrapping his arms tightly round my neck. He then proceeds to lie on me, kick me, throw off all the covers and slowly push me out of bed. Bit like a husband really! Call me needy… I love it.
In the morning of our second day my daughter in law, looking whitefaced and worried, came into our room and told me that my granddaughter had been vomiting all night. Poor little thing, she is a very slight child at the best of times. She was really under the weather. She was desperately thirsty but just couldn’t keep anything down. We decided we couldn’t take any risks and asked the reception desk to call a doctor for us. Shortly a charming and calming doctor arrived and examined my granddaughter. He gave her medicine and instructed us to take her to hospital if she was
still vomiting by five in the afternoon. By that time, mercifully, she had stopped throwing up and seemed a little better in herself. We hoped she was over it and she and we would be able to enjoy the rest of the holiday. It was not to be…
At 3am the next morning I was wakened by my daughter in law. The little one had started throwing up again. But worse than that, she was like a floppy little rag doll. She was sickly white with every rib sticking out and, in the middle
of her chest, there was a deep indentation. My poor daughter in law had woken with the little one retching, turned to her husband but he wasn’t in the bed! Where the hell was he? A million things went through my mind. Perhaps he had gone for a walk. Maybe he hadn’t taken his phone. We HAD to get the baby to hospital as fast as possible but someone had to stay with my sleeping grandson. It was the middle of the night – where on earth could he be? He does occasionally go walkabout – he is a bad sleeper. You know how everything comes flooding into your mind at once. Surely he wouldn’t be walking along the beach at this hour. Maybe he had gone to the bar and fallen asleep in a lounge. Thank heaven I had roaming. I rang my son…”Where are you?”
“I’m in the Business Centre”, he said.
“Get a taxi now the little one’s much worse, you need to get to hospital NOW.”
He came racing back and we grabbed insurance, passport, towels and off they went, carrying the poor little mite. I looked out of the window. It was pitch dark. It’s horrible being the person waiting behind and not knowing what is going on. Your mind plays tricks with you. I Googled gastroenteritis. Not a good idea. There seemed to be so many complications. Some of them with truly awful outcomes. I made a cup of tea – isn’t that what you are supposed to do? I tidied up the bedroom. I looked out of the window. All I could see was my own anxious face. I wondered where the nearest hospital was. We were on an island for God’s sake – they won’t have a hospital on Sentosa, thank goodness they now have a bridge. When I was little girl you had to go to Sentosa on the ferry. I needed to do something so I piled up the all the dirty clothes and hand washed them. The bathroom looked like Mrs Tiggywinkle’s laundry.
My phone bleeped. It was only 40 mins since they had left. They were in in Raffles Hospital and my granddaughter was being seen at that moment by the paediatrician. She had already been admitted and her room number would be no 8. Gosh that was quick. The phone bleeped again. She was having an IV put in and my son would call me in ten minutes. I heaved a sigh of relief. Singapore has wonderful hospitals. They have great reputations, are virtually all new builds, and have the latest equipment. I knew my granddaughter would be in good hands .
My grandson woke in the morning having slept through everything. We went down for breakfast. I was gagging for news – he was unconcerned and just wanted to get to the water chutes. My phone rang. My granddaughter was better but the doctors wanted her to stay in for another couple of days to monitor her. She had been severely dehydrated. My poor daughter in law was now on day four of no sleep. My son decided to stay with her and help out. The hospital encourages you to stay with your children and, as everyone has their own room and bathroom, there is little chance of cross infection. The children are happier. Every room has a TV playing nonstop children’s programmes. The nurses come in to do the medical procedures but in general the parents are around all the time to be with their sick children. It seemed so sensible. After another 48 hours the fun began. My granddaughter was getting better but she still had the drip in her little hand. She was desperate to get out of her room – she wanted to play and to run up and down the corridor and her parents were terrified she would rip the IV out. My son went off to a local shopping mall to try and find colouring books and games to play – anything to cause a distraction. The story ends happily. She was discharged after three days having lost a great deal of weight but she was fine. We were on our knees with tiredness and anxiety. But we didn’t have to change any flights, so off they flew to Australia.
I did not cry as I bade them farewell, I was just relieved that the hospital system is SO good in Singapore. But it did start me thinking. It is not clever to take very small children on holiday where there is little access to good modern medicine. In our moment of dire need we were able to get help within half an hour of leaving the hotel but had we been somewhere else we might not have been so fortunate.
It’s all over now and my family are back in their own home in Sydney.
I’m off to Cuba in two weeks, with OG, where I’m told they have good doctors but NO MEDICINE! We are taking every pill and potion known to man – and plasters and gel and soap. Apparently as everything is in such short supply, a good way of tipping or helping is to leave pain relievers, vitamins, soap. One thing’s for sure. The one thing I will keep is my hydrating kit – never know when we might need it.
How am I filling the gap? I have offered my babysitting services to everyone I know with babies AND I have started Zumba. I thought it would be good practise before my salsa lesson which I shall be taking in Havana in two weeks time!
Keep drinking….WATER!
BPG