Monday 13 April 2009

A Tale Of Woe

I was so looking forward to the Easter weekend. After months of illness and surgery, followed by months of working like a crazy manic thing, I'd planned an Easter full of treats. Three friends were coming from FarAway City; we had tickets for an ace gig on Saturday night; after they left today, I was going to visit a writer friend and talk about writerly things.

On Thursday I started a cold. Oh well, I thought, Day Nurse/Night Nurse to the rescue, I'll be fine. Friday night was fun, I cooked a good dinner, the friends arrived at wine o'clock, it was all very convivial and jolly. The cold was developing but I was medicating it into submission.

Then on Saturday I got up and, as one does on first getting up, went to relieve myself. I don't know a good euphemism for the next bit, so I'll tell you straight. I was in the process of wiping my bum when something just under my shoulder blade went TWANG and hurt like hell. Oh bugger, I thought, that really doesn't feel good. While in hospital before Christmas, I got the hang of the 1-10 pain scale. It was a 10. No question.

I stood still for a minute and it receded back to an 8. I sorted myself out, washed my hands and staggered back to bed. Maybe if I lie still for a while, I thought, it'll calm down. But it didn't. It hurt to breathe. I was lying in an awkward position, only half covered by the duvet, but I couldn't move. Every time I tried, I scored a perfect 10. I stuck it for about half an hour and then gave up and woke my Paramour.

He and I between us couldn't move me, so we ended up calling an ambulance. I've never done that before in my life. Mick the Paramedic turned up first, did some investigations then gave me Entonox aka gas-and-air, another new experience and a very welcome one. Then another Mick and his partner Dan Dan the Ambulance Man arrived. They were lovely, so kind and helpful. On the way to the hospital, the second Mick told me he thought it was probably just a pulled muscle. I think he wanted to reassure me, which in a way he did, although I replied that I'd feel a right prat if I'd called out an ambulance for a pulled muscle. 'No need,' he said, 'it can be very painful, and you're clearly in a lot of pain, so you've done the right thing.' I could have kissed him, but I sucked on the Entonox nozzle instead.

Two hours in A&E, some prodding and yelling and an X-ray, and it was indeed a torn muscle. I was given Tramadol for the pain and Diazepam to relax my muscles, and sent home with instructions to rest. No problem there, I didn't have any other options. The drugs worked well and I spent a happy afternoon on the sofa, chatting with my friends. They went off to the gig and I had a small dinner as I wasn't feeling very hungry.

Then the nausea started, and the hot chills and the cold sweats. Oh joy. I wondered whether it was a reaction to the drugs, and stopped taking them. I very nearly puked - got as far as standing in the toilet waiting for it to happen - but it didn't. I don't, generally; it's been about 12 years since the last time. I found it hard to sleep because of the pain in my back, and took a painkiller at around 12.30 am, and another around 2.30 when the first one seemed to have gone down OK. I finally slept from about 4 to 7 am.

I still felt sick when I woke up, and didn't want to eat anything, so decided to stay off the drugs again. My Paramour took our friends out sightseeing in the afternoon, and I thought I'd risk some natural yogurt with a little honey. I figured if that went down OK, I could try something more solid, and then maybe have some longed-for painkillers. But it didn't go down OK at all, and this time there was proper puking. Yuck. I gave up on everything and went back to bed.

And I felt lousy all day today, until the nausea abated halfway through watching Clare on Countdown - I tell you, she has magic powers! Having said that, I still feel fairly rough - back hurts; nose is snotty; most of me aches, and I have no energy - but nausea is the worst, and now that's shifted, I feel as if I'm on the mend.

I think perhaps, as that clever Mr Pratchett would say, my brain's been writing cheques that my body can't cash. It looks as if I've had three in one: a snotty cold, a back injury, and some kind of gastric virus. They say bad things come in threes, and although I'm not generally superstitious, I'd be glad if that one could come true this time, because I'd really like to get better now.

14 comments:

HelenMWalters said...

Poor you honey. That does sound dreadful and unbelievably bad timing. Hope you feel properly better soon.

Lane Mathias said...

That's just horrible, you poor thing. Must have been very worrying for you too:-(

Glad you're feeling a bit better but you're going to have to take it very easy and recover properly from this.

Clare was great wasn't she!

Anonymous said...

Oh yuckity yuck!

Poor you. That all sounds pretty grim. Really hope you continue to get better. My other half had something that sounds v similar this weekend and my eldest son has been nauseous this evening, with youngest son also puking a little... so I'm just waiting for us all to fall like ninepins.

Thank you for watching me on telly! I confess I'm feeling a little depressed about it all, but I got most of my moping done when it was filmed.

Take care and get well soon. xxx

CL Taylor said...

Ooooh you poor thing. That sounds horrible. Hope you're on the mend now x

Jenny Beattie said...

Oh yuk, you poor thing. I am so sorry... I prescribe lots of rest and plenty of reading. Take care and wishing you better soon. JJx

Jen said...

Oh, how awful, that does indeed sound very ouchy... and such lousy timing.

Hope it all rights itself quickly - you've had far too much time on that sofa, young lady!

Karen said...

Blimey, poor you sounds awful! I'm not good at all with sick, so weirdly that would have been the worst bit for me, but I'm glad you're on the mend!

Queenie said...

Awwww, thanks, everyone. Yes, Lane, Clare was fab! Clare, I hope you escape the lurgy and shake off the depression. Cally, I am definitely on the mend, thanks. JJ: ooh, plenty of reading, good plan! Spiral: quite. Karen: I'm not good with sick either, although oddly I can cope with my own much better than with other people's. Hahahahaha I've just noticed the word verification is 'nerse'!!

Pat said...

Dear Queenie - I really feel for you and send you a very gentle hug. You have been through the mill lately and a torn muscle when you are just doing something we all do regularly makes me feel your whole body need some total relaxation.
If you can just get off the roundabout for a moment and think how you can start taking things easier - both mentally and physically. You are one of the most intelligent woman I know so I don't have to say anymore except please forgive me for doing what I can't help doing.

Anonymous said...

I wonder about the whole wiping-bum thing though. I always try and reach around behind cos apparently it's a way of avoiding thrush - going front to back instead of the other way round... but I've always found it counter-intuitive and physically rather awkward. And now I have a good medical reason for being suspicious - I might end up in hospital! :O)

Kirsty said...

you poor, poor thing. Glad you are feeling better xx

Queenie said...

PI, thank you sweetie, it must have been you the word verification was misspelling. No forgiveness needed, I know you're right. (Whether I can put it into practice is another matter, but I will try, honest.)
Clare, yes indeed, that's the manoeuvre! But remember I'm horribly unfit at the moment, and you're not.
Kirsty, me too! xx to you too xx

Pat said...

Re what Clare says we were always taught that many vaginal and urinary infections can be avoided by wiping front to back.

Kath McGurl said...

Ooh poor you, sounds very painful. Hope you are well on the mend now.