From what you may have already gathered, my life would seem to be one big medical disaster.
Its not a case of it “seeming” to be one.
It just simply “is” one.
So Monday’s episode featured a shopping trip for hotdogs in Tesco, quickly turning into seizure city.
Yesterday was very similar.
After a visit to Moll’s Mums house, we decided to stop off at Tesco for a drink at around 01:30 am. We parked up, Moll switched off the engine (which annoyed me as ‘Weezer – Buddy Holly’ was just kicking in as the engine came to a halt), and we headed into the store.
About half way in, I started to feel funny.
The same, if not very similar to how I felt this past Monday.
I could feel another fit coming on.
In a different Tesco.
What. Are. The. Fucking. Chances?
The feeling started to fade, but I still didn’t feel 100%. I went to find a seat near the opticians inside the store, and the staff grabbed me a drink of water, and called first aid (who was literally a dude that couldn’t open his eyes properly in a fleece, that looked more frightened than me, the guy very close to seizing).
There just so happened to be an on duty paramedic passing by, right in front of me, whilst I felt like shit.
I repeat..
What. Are. The. Fucking. Chances?
He advised us to go straight to a&e.
I was reluctant as I knew this meant another VERY long evening.
I didn’t have a choice, according to Molly.
We drove to Heartlands.
It was pretty empty.
I’ve never been through the emergency department at Heartlands before. I usually bypass all that being Mr Cystic Fibrosis/Infection Control Boy and all.
Numerous men and women inside looked as if they’d just been involved in fights. One guy had a huge cut on his nose, and didn’t look too sober.
He was asleep the majority of the time.
I tried to converse, it didn’t happen.
I spent £3.20 in the vending machines.
Pepsi Max, Twix and some spicy crisps.
Molly had a flapjack (disgusting).
After several hours my name was called.
They cannulated me, checked my blood pressure and everything else.
SATs at 94%.
Blood pressure was fine sitting down, however standing was a different issue.
SATs dropped to 92%, and blood pressure dropped by about 30 mercuries (or whatever it is).
They weren’t going to admit me at first, and then they saw his massive decrease and changed their mind.
We were sent back out into the waiting area.
Man with giant cut on his nose was still here.
12 hours in accident and emergency later, and I have a bed.
I woke up to Molly’s Mum bringing us a McDonald’s.
20 nugget share-box and coke.
Hashtag Saint Rosamund.
I’m on my usual ward now – ward 26.
(the cystic fibrosis centre).
Molly is sleeping.
It’s currently 04:23 am and I’m really craving a Chinese takeaway.
Send me one.
Anybody.
Life. 