Last night... I thought I was actually going to die... I appreciate that I am both a hypochondriac and a wuss, but ermergerd does not even begin to cover it. At approximatly 9pm or as hubby would have it known after the fifth episode of toddlers and tiaras (I have no shame, plus it gives me something to yell at the telly for) the eye headache set in. I don't have this often but when I do the best thing is to give in and go to bed... which I did because I am now medical expert and also any excuse to sleep is going to be met by my own personal agreement.., so I crawled up the stairs and lay in my bed feeling sorry for myself, at the height of this I tried to cajole myself out of being a big wuss by reminding myself what girl child has recently been through and the lack of complaining she has done about it.. did not work or make me feel any better. As many of you know I am an self centered, ego centric person and as Freud would have it my ID, EGO and SUPEREGO are always at war with one another (I only put this in to show that I still know stuff) and if its not about me I'm not interested. I lay there for a further half hour working out what I wanted my funeral to be like, my final last words and what I could possibly be dying from since the pain was so bad. If it wasn't for the not tolerating any kind of noise or light I would have googled it, as it was using my own knowledge I could only predict: Swine Flu, Eye Cancer, MRSA, Toxoplasmosis, self pity or acts of god. This as you can imagine caused even more distress when I heard my mother fall through the door possibly cussing. I have to say possibly cussing because by this point I had convinced myself that both of my ears had also dropped off as a result of whatever fatal disease I was suffering from. Hubby yelled at me to get downstairs because he wanted a second opinion on a broken toe.... WHAT? I spend a week in a children's hospital and now I'm some kind of medical expert. I staggered through the bright lights yelling something about who dropped what on what (trust me I was in pain I couldn't be expected to make sense) and that I couldn't drive anyone anywhere... amazing the effect that a bright purple toe has on an eye headache... you do not have to be an expert to look at mothers toes and recognize a broken one.. I couldn't do sympathy or empathy at this point I wanted to die, so I went back upstairs feeling even more pathetic that people had broken livers and toes and I just had a headache... which lasted all of about 5 minutes when I had to take off all of my clothes and lie on the bathroom floor just to feel better. For about 30 seconds of this I thought about how I didn't want to die naked and then got to a point where I didn't care anymore... which is when the pain hurt so much that well there is no nice way of putting it I had to become acquaintances with the toilet.. I have no idea when or how I made it to bed, but I do know that hubby clearly ministered to me in the night based on the flood of water and flannels I woke up to this morning. Was mildly disappointed that for all that pain I hadn't actually died but woke up feeling not dead which was an improvement.
Mother's toes were twice the size this morning, so I find not only the wounded Girl child on the sofa but also my mother..
Since we were due a hospital appointment anyway it made sense to do the whole A n E thing at the same time. Now my mother will kill me but I figure that since I spent the majority of my annual leave in one hospital or another that its OK (most people go on holiday and visit exotic lands, I visit and sample the local hospitals) Mum has recently been diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and as a sufferer myself I know this is not funny.. however certain aspects of it are, maybe this shows a lack of my own maturity (and I'm comfortable with it) but I found it hilarious that after all the guidance they give her about looking after her joints that they hand her an information pack that weighs more than a bible. (don't worry I'm not that selfish I did carry it for her)
So we hobbled around to A&E in which mum who had understandably refused to wear shoes then complains that her slippers are wet. As is the way we arrive to find disgruntled people banging on about waiting times and should they just die on the spot to get some attention and I knew we were in for a long wait. Fortunately I had planned ahead and had a copy of Catching Fire (new behind the times hunger games obsessions as inspired by girl child) however it turns out if you have to wait 2 hours it's rude to ignore your long suffering mother so I offered to read some of her literature to her...
Me being me of course found the most appropriate leaflet from the bunch....
According to my mum it's not appropriate to read such things in public but then I remember who I was and did so anyway, was a bit worried half way through that I was making my mum laugh so much and having a good time that they might throw us out for having to much fun and not really having an injury...
Turns out there is a lot I don't know about sex and arthritis such as; sex doesn't cause arthritis and arthritis doesn't cause sex. Also I love to exaggerate but this leaflet didn't require it, some of my favorite parts being: "what should I do if sex is difficult?" the answer "change position" - even I don't need to make that funny it just is... I also enjoyed the section on "if all else fails vibrators are excellent for stimulation, not just your genital areas but aching joints" - it was at this point I was worried that mum would die of humiliation or wet herself but I carried on regardless. Of course I was only kidding when I said any minute now there's going to be a karma sutra for arthritis...
Turns out there is (Hubby asked mum if we could borrow this later) but I was more amused at my mother's rage that there are five positions for women and four for men, but that the only reason there were any at all was because all men think about is sex. Also that she wondered if the figures were grey to represent 50 shades or some kind of equality drive. Found myself a little concerned that my concentration was focused on where I could get a trolley and pillows from...
Eventually we saw a nurse who said yup its broken here is some tape and sent us home, to find hubby had done the wound care for the girl child (thank god) and had everything under control.
I have officially turned my living room into ward two and am currently accepting patients...
ADDENDUM - My mother having nearly wet herself laughing reading this blog post (because she knows its true) has requested that I inform my readers that she is not in fact a dirty be-atch (bitch) and that that white stuff is not foot fungus or narcotics but talcum powder.
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