A&E

As I predicted last time, by Wednesday evening I was at the surgery for an emergency appointment. The pain had got worse. I didn't see my usual GP. Instead I saw a young doctor, all long hair & jeans. We went through the story. He could find nothing specific wrong. He obviously thought all the right things had been done & it was just a matter of holding on until the hospital appointment next month. He did, however, arm me with some stronger painkillers & some laxatives. He didn't think I needed to risk that pain to add to my problems. We came armed with a carrier bag full, 8 packets of codeine, 5 boxes of laxatives. His parting words were "Good luck".

I persevered through another uncomfortable night, popping pills madly. On a regular basis through that night & through the following morning I had two lots of antispasmodics, codeine & paracetamol. And that's on top of the pills for my knees, bones, blood pressure & thyroids, not to mention the laxatives I'd just been given. By midday I was ready for a lie down.

Mid-afternoon I was up again, feeling much better. We even ventured to the library. Whilst waiting at the desk to get our new books & jigsaws out, the pains began again. We hastily came home. I went for another lie down while the Fox got on with the task of preparing dinner as it was after 4.30pm. He'd barely got started when the pains got even worse. He abandoned his efforts & got on the phone to the surgery instead. By the time he'd explained the problem & they'd had a brief talk to me, they decided to arrange an ambulance & paramedics to come to take me to hospital.

We hastily got my skirt back on, made up an overnight bag, collected all my medication, ready for their arrival. It wasn't long before they arrived. I was given some laughing gas to ease things immediately. Soon I was bundled into the ambulance. The medic wanted to give me some morphine to ease the pain which I was clearly in but couldn't find a vein to put the needle in. We set off regardless. Halfway to Lancaster the spasm intensified. The medic just couldn't watch me writhe any more. He decided to have another go. He stopped the ambulance. He finally managed to find a vein on my other hand & gave me some morphine, just a half dose. When that clearly wasn't sufficient, he gave me more. Finally we reached the hospital.

The Fox was waiting anxiously at the hospital. He'd left after us in our car with my wheelchair, coat, handbag etc & was surprised to have arrived earlier than we had. We explained why. The wait began.

We eventually saw a doctor. Physical exams were done, both inside & out, including a smear test in case my problems were related to the cervical cancer I was operated for in 2001. Time marched on & we were getting hungrier. While the physical exams were being done, the Fox tried to find a sandwich machine but all he could find were sweet machines, not quite want he fancied - he's never been a lover of chocolate & sweets. He popped to the nearby pub to find that had ceased serving food for the night. The best he could do was a packet of crisps. He hastily returned. Still we waited.

Finally the doctor concluded that there was nothing more she could do. The morphine was kicking in, reducing the level of pain considerably. My bloods were all reasonable. It sounded as though my own doctor had done all that could be done, until I've had that hospital appointment next month & got a diagnosis as to the cause. She gave me an outline of the tests the clinic will probably organise once I finally get there. In case the problem was due to the anti-inflammatories I've been taking for years now, she advised me to stop  taking them if possible. She gave me yet another set of pills, this time to line my stomach. With this she sent me home. She assured me if it ever became as bad, not to hesitate to ring the ambulance again & come back in.

So we left. By this time it was after 10pm. The Fox felt well passed starting to cook. On his way into Lancaster he had noticed a rare restaurant that stayed open until 11.30pm so we headed there. Sure enough, everywhere we passed en route looked shut up for the night. Lancaster still closes down early. This Indian restaurant, though, was still open. The Fox dived in to see if we could still get a table. We could. He got me in. We had just the one course. The Fox thoroughly enjoyed it. I found it rather sweet. I made a poor showing of my meal, but I assured myself it was just too late for me & I was still under the influence of the morphine. We agreed though, it was sufficiently good to justify picking up their Xmas menu.

Eventually we got home. I went to get changed for bed. I'd barely taken my coat off, not even  put it away, when nausea swept over me. I rushed, in as much as a snail can rush, to the loo. I got there just in time to dispose of half my dinner. Having done so, I felt much better. I got changed, had the mug of tea the Fox had made, my new lot of pills & then to bed for the best sleep I've had in days if not weeks.

I can see the weeks ahead are going to be long. If I'm going to try without the anti-inflammatories (for my knees), I'm going to have to cut down on what little walking I do. The Fox is going to take over the cooking full-time. I will be using my wheelchair even more than usual. Even the short few strides into our local pub will be done in the chair. I'm going to have to have weeks of resting. 

A neighbour was round first thing this morning to be surprised when I answered the door. She'd popped round to see if there was anything she could do to help. I explained what had happened. I warned her they may be a few more visits from the ambulance in the next month or so. I noticed as she returned home to report to her husband on what had happened, she ended up stopping at every neighbour on the way. All had been worrying.

She was the second caller. Our new neighbour next door had been around before the Fox had even had time to leave for the hospital offering their assistance. It's good to know so many people care & would do what they could to help if we needed it.