Crap, crap and triple crap
So, as promised, here is the news from London:The month of May has been crap, very crap. I have spent most of my days exhausted, linked up to a catheter that made me very embarrassed, with blood all over my arms, bruises, dirty hair…crap I tell you.
First I spent five days in hospital (and Krusty thought it wouold be a good idea to take a photo...). It was my first time. I got there on a Saturday (not a good day to see the doctor…they are all out somewhere else) after Krusty called the NHS helpline. My symptoms suggested that I had appendicitis. I saw the medical student, her superior and five people above her. I was placed in a bed until further notice between a heavy woman with a snoring problem, and a loud woman who complained a lot about the snoring. Until 1am. At 3am, the surgeon came t see me, shaking me awake despite my cries of pain and inadvertently unhooking my drip, making my arm explode in a volcano of blood, of which a lot had already gone back up the tube the wrong way because the nurse had forgotten to change the sack… At 5am, I was sent tot eh gynaecology ward, where I went through a new session on tests/diagnostics/questions that concluded…nothing at all. And I still had not eaten, drank or had painkillers in case they changed my symptoms.
Two days later, they decided I needed an ultrasound. Only problem – there was no one to take me there. So I went down alone, bent in half by the pain, crying in pain but more because of the fact that I was lost… A nice lady helped me eventually find a wheelchair and I was caught once again in a whirlpool of results, until the decision was taken to operate.
I was taken to the operating block where a nurse told me off because I was still wearing my underwear. Result: they were confiscated! The anaesthetist was making strange jokes with his colleague, I couldn’t understand any of it because I could only see things from where I was, laying down and that these heads floating in front of neon lights didn’t mean a thing to me. When I woke up I was even more confused as I saw that there were policemen everywhere. The nurses told me that it was because Madonna’s son was in the next bed with a broken leg, but I couldn’t even turn my head to see him. I really couldn’t understand what was happening. An hour later, no one had come to pick me up from the recovery room and Krusty was still waiting with no news upstairs.
Anyway, they found that I had had a cyst on my ovaries that had exploded, leaving blood all over my pelvis. Nice. First question when they told me this: “can I still have children”, answer was yes. Phew.
My little trip at least taught me a few things:
- Don’t go to A&E if your symptoms are confusing
- I never want to go to hospital again (oh OK, I’ll go to give birth)
- Having someone who loves you through it all is so precious, a miracle almost
This was never clearer than when we got a call from Krusty’s friend to find out that Andy’s wife Sara (whose wedding we went to in April – see photos in the previous entry) had just died in a car crash. I still can’t believe it. It’s as if I am waiting every day for another call to tell us that they got it wrong, or as if there is a remote control somewhere that would allow us to rewind back to the time where none of this had happened… Poor, poor Andy. I can’t begin to express how sad I am for him.
And meanwhile, in Boss House, the ants have taken over our flat. But rather than consider them as a nuisance, Krusty is seeing them as a scientific experiment. He has sprinkled sugar a little bit everywhere and follows them back on the trail to see their leader... The army is getting larger and Krusty now know everything, and I mean everything, about ants… perhaps we are just not in the mood to see anything die right now…
We are also considering moving house (not because of the ants) to go to a larger place, but only because a great opportunity has just arisen. Only problem: there are some sitting tenants on the third floor. Looking up to the ceiling every five minutes wondering if the neighbours are dead yet…don’t know if that’s a nice way to live.
So, illness and death have made my month of May. Crap I tell you.
Can someone give me some good news please?!
posted by The rat and the monkey @ 7:22:00 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home