Theodore Denman and I were again summoned to the Hospital. This time to have a monitor attached to my chest for a 24 hour reading, in order that they may assess my fibrillations (or palpitations) and see exactly what is going on before taking the next steps. Medication seems to be doing the trick at the moment, as long as I always remember to take everything at the correct time. We are therefore somewhat dependent on the bathroom cabinet being within easy reach the whole time. or my remembering to load up my capacious handbag with spare supplies when we are out and about. Which, to be quite frank, is a complete pain in the backside. Who remembers everything all the time?

So we head off, remembering to glam up, as I am very aware that Theodore needs to have a Scrummy Mummy and not a Slummy Mummy. He has given me a lot to live up to in all his utter gorgoeusness.

We park the car - great - they waived the £1 parking fee on April 1st - assemble the very striking Gesslein pram (which was bought because it matches my very funky Red or Dead Glasses), and proceed to bounce along to the Cardiology Department.

Once there Theodore is welcomed as the all conquering prince that he is. After having such a traumatic time actually getting here, he is much fussed and admired, although he is so blase about all the attention he just sleeps on.

We are taken into a consultation room which required much negotiating of doorways and wheelchairs. Sometimes I do think you need to be given some kind of tuition, pretty much like a driving test before being let loose in charge of a pram (Or Travel System as they are now known. What on earth is wrong with the word Pram? Derived from the word perambulator?) Anyway, I am sure that Health and Safety will seize upon this potential issue before long, as with everything else in life.

So, as instructed I strip off to my waist (rather a generous description as I have still not started my regime of promised sit-ups) to be wired up. I did try to keep my bra on to defy gravity but it was not allowed unless I intended to sleep in it. Which I did not. I prefer a sports vest. As a new Mum any shenanigans of the amorous variety are strictly off the menu. After all the pads and wires had been applied to my chest the wonderful nurse then went slightly wild with the tape, securing everything down. It was at this point that I was wishing I had opted for a polo neck, rather than the low cut v neck top I was sporting.

With a final flourish and a wave Theodore and I left the hospital and detoured home via the town centre to go to the Bank. Pushing the very smart pram through the main Street I could not resist checking out the other 'Travel Systems'being wheeled along the pavement, and was very relieved that no-one else had this particular design. We do like to stand alone. Having researched the choice of 'Travel System' so thoroughly I felt justified in our choice and in particular it's stylish merits. Indeed, shortly after purchasing it with the aid of a second mortgage I was thrilled to learn that it had won an Award in 'Design Week' magazine. So I was not alone in my critique. it is amazing to find such new areas of previously untapped competitiveness.

We bounced into the bank, narrowly beating the lunchtime rush and stood in the queue awaiting a Cashier. We were getting some very odd looks, which I put down to the very smart 'Travel System' and the complete lack of screaming from its depths. A contented Baby. Ordinarily in Wrexham the children can be heard approaching, loud screams punctuated by the use of very unsavoury language (from the Mothers - not the babies). And accompanied by a gaggle of schoolfriends. So all in all we are a complete oddity. Mainly because I was old enough to have sex when Theodore was conceived! Add to that the profusion of wires and tape stuck to my chest and we have an enigma.

Or do we?

Maybe they are thinking something else? Always expect the unexpected. Especially in Wrexham. Wires? Tape? An apparently empty pram/vehicle. Standing in a Bank.? Just before lunchtime? Getting very strange looks? Wearing Dark Glasses? Oh My God.........realisation dawned. What a great missed opportunity! I should have stuffed a loud ticking alarm clock in my handbag. Ohhhh, the confusion we could have caused, the sport we could have had, the monies we could have demanded! PERHAPS THEY THOUGHT I WAS A SUICIDE BOMBER! Or maybe the Taliban? I was chuckling at the possibilities.........

It was with great disappointment at my lack of forward planning that I handed over the bags of coins to be counted and deposited In Theodore's Trust Fund Account. (The one the Government give you - not a Wealthy Family Type one.) Another Day, Another Dollar. And it could have been so much more if I had put more thought into our guise and strategy.

Hmmm. Anyway, Maureen the lovely Cashier lady in a smart red suit took our money and we headed off home 'to be monitored' for the next 24 hours.