Oh the indignity! From Tuesday on your commentator has been laid low by microscopic counter-revolutionaries. Their weapons of sniffles, coughs, sore throats, headaches and fever have sapped the energy of the BC household. This wouldn't be too bad if we hadn't much on, but over the last three days we attended a funeral, had to do our Christmas shopping and, yesterday, were out yet again to inter the ashes. But we didn't get to see it.
I felt slightly better yesterday morning while we were hurtling toward Derby on the train. History and Class Consciousness was out (two new posts on that coming soon), and the flu seemed content to take the back burner. Then, when we got to the station, I had what I can only describe as a funny turn. The symptoms passed, I had something to eat, and just put it down to being hungry. We jumped on to the train over to Nottingham and it wasn't long before I started feeling funny again. I told CBC my vision was darkening and the next thing I knew I was being slapped around the face by the guard! I was pouring with sweat. I was radiating ludicrous amounts of heat. And yes, I felt like absolute crap! (I was out for about a minute - good job it wasn't standing room only!)
The guard and CBC helped me on to the platform where I quickly cooled down and then aided by my mother-in-law and the station's first-aider they shepherded me into the waiting room. It wasn't long before the ambulance turned up and off I was whisked to casualty at Queen's. So what was going to be a very simple and dignified ceremony turned into a five hour drama under hospital lights. I got poked and prodded every which way and had myself a drip fitted (I've never "drank" a litre of water through my arm before!). At the end of it all it turned out the cause of my swoon was ... dehydration. Duh.
The NHS comes in for a lot of stick, but I could not fault my experience of it as a visitor these last few weeks and a (very) short stay patient.
I'm still full of the flu, unfortunately, but I feel well enough now to resume blogging, so watch out!
Your nurse, poor old CBC, is still feeling like death warmed up though.
ReplyDeleteWoe :(
Gor Blimey
ReplyDeleteIn my day we would be up at 5am to clean the pidgins out, flue or not, cycle 50 miles to work, dig 60 tones of coal singlehandedly down pit, cycle 50 miles home; and play rugby league in the evening and drink 15 pints at end of game.
You kids today! stop mothering him lass.
There's a lot of it about, isn't there? Well on the mend myself, but everyone I speak to seems to be coming down with something. Now I wish I hadn't watched Survivors.
ReplyDeleteThat thought crossed my mind too, Splinty. The end of civilisation would be that bit more bearable if I ended up in a group with Julie Graham though ;) Also, a post on Survivors is on the boards and ready for take off when the series is finished ...
ReplyDelete