So Tiddler is giving us some fun before he or she arrives in May! I’ve been admitted to the Leicester Royal Infirmary with high blood pressure and enough protein in my pee to suggest potential pre eclampsia.

Great. Now I need to explain to a five year old why Mummy has to stay at hospital. The same five year old who has Scarlet Fever so isn’t allowed to visit me on the ward. That depresses me more than I can say, I think the longest I’ve been away from him is about 24 hours but that was while he stayed with his Nana and I said goodbye to mine. He had a fun filled sleep over and I could have easily picked him up and cuddled him at home if I wanted (I did want to but I needed that bit of space that night)

I couldn’t do that last night, so I took it on the chin. A night away from home with my dinner cooked for me and some lovely ladies waiting on me hand and foot while I rest up, sounds awesome.

It’s not. So far, I’ve been prodded and poked, stabbed and squeezed. That dinner I was promised? Turned out to be rubber chicken with over cooked veg. Edible but not credible.

That quite night to myself was full of activity from another lady on the ward – she was quite poorly in the night and had lots of stuff going on, but she’s lovely and we’ve had a few nice chats. I guess that’s what comes from being in a ward though.

This morning was brighter, my blood pressure had lowered, breakfast was cereal and fruit juice and I have some crochet with me. Lunch cheered me up, a baguette with salad and what I think was coronation chicken. Fresh and tasty washed down with fruit juice and yoghurt.  No sign of any fresh fruit….but maybe later?

I could order dinner, choose my meal and my pud. That made me feel tons better, until it arrived.

Ok. So it’s more than edible and was a tiny bit tasty – just a tiny bit. But it’s a glorified microwave meal not a lovingly made meal to help you on your road to recovery. It’s just food on a plate. Food that brought back my dark thoughts about not being able to cuddle my poorly boy and sleep in my own bed. Food that sent me begging my friends on Facebook for fresh fruit. Food that has me trawling my twitter feed for celebrity chefs to moan to and lovely friendly food bloggers who might take pity on me a get some of their foodie friends interested.

I know I shouldn’t complain as I live in a country where this isn’t costing me a penny. The NHS is strapped for cash and this is the best they can do. But is it?

James Martin revamped quite a few hospital menus and practices didn’t he? Surely it’s Leicesters turn for that revamp? Gauntlet thrown down I believe?

So I might be going to bed underwhelmed by the food served here. But I’m not underwhelmed by the staff. They are really kind and friendly. They are working incredibly hard and with the limited resources they’ve been given that’s no mean feat.