Friday, 29 July 2011
Today too has been mildly productive, I walked to the Post Office and bought myself a few magazines, emailed my Aunt about my birthday and now I'm watching Victorian Farm on Yesterday (which should be renamed "The Nazi's Were Bad - We Get It"), whilst writing another entry.
In brief, I went to A&E (that's ER to any of my American readers!) and Jimi, the lovely nigerian doctor prescribed me Diazepam and Diclofenac. I had intended to continue from my previous entry with a hilarious account of the visit, but I've just felt too poorly unfortunately - what I will say is that there's nothing funnier than hearing a doctor in the next cubicle saying "Hello, my name's Gary", in a thick Oriental accent followed by your partner whispering immediately "sure it is" in response. Laughed heartily and had to sit down again!
Following my trip to A&E last Tuesday, I ended up there again on Monday of this week after collapsing on the floor on Sunday, rather upsettingly, as I had honestly thought I'd be back at work the following day. After a terrible night's sleep and a few tears and my last Diazepam, I called NHS Direct who suggested calling an ambulance! Well, not one to waste resources (even if I am paying for them through the PAYE system) and delirious with pain, I stayed in bed thinking - "Well, it's not an emergency!" Very luckily for me, a very good friend in the shape of Pixie Truffle offered me a lift to the hospital and Nickie turned up just as we were leaving so I had my own personal entourage when I returned to A&E.
Sadly, I wasn't treated by the attractive female doctor who I kept straining my neck to see everytime she walked past (Nickie knows about this and we had quite a giggle about it). The very nice doctor who was assigned to me did the same batch of tests as lovely Jimi had the previous week, and one more which I will not go into detail about, but was designed to check whether I had damaged my Coccyx (I hadn't). The pain by this point was worse than it was the previous week and it would seem that I had jarred it when I fell on the floor. The doctor advised that he wasn't concerned enough to keep me in (a relief), but he could see that I was in a significant amount of pain and so prescribed me some stronger painkillers. He asked me about Codeine, but me and that particular drug have a chequered past - we don't get on. It affects my digestive transit shall we say (TMI?) So instead, he prescribed me Tramadol, a fairly strong Opiate which has finally stopped the pain in its tracks but comes with a bunch of really pleasant side effects like extreme nausea, dizziness, clumsiness and what can only be described as the appearance of being stoned! My doctor has prescribed Cyclizine to deal with the nausea, but can't really do much due to the dizziness. Honestly, the walk to the shops was a triumph!
I'm bored as hell, and very lonesome and tomorrow, instead of being at work or at Oldham Pride, I'll be right here, on the sofa, watching repeats on the TV and wishing I could get ahold of a box set of Prisoner to pass the time. Until I do, it's Gilmore Girls, Desperate Housewives and Being Erica on E4... and Learn From My Fail blog and Facebook Online. Please send me Facebook Messages, entertain me with videos... ANYTHING as I'm climbing the walls!
In other news I found an app which tells me when to take each of my tablets which is useful and will help me avoid the inevitable overdose which comes from Tramadol induced forgetfulness!
Signing Off xx
Tuesday, 26 July 2011
Inspired by my old pal with whom I've recently been reacquainted, what follows is my analgesic review... Firstly, in the words of "Scrubs", my favourite hospital based comedy, "it's pronounced an-algesic, not anal-gesic, the pills go in your mouth"... You can generally distinguish between oral medication and suppositories because of the size of the pills, generally, if they are bigger than 2 joints of your little finger, they ain't for swallowing! :-)
My first medication, self-prescribed, was paramol (not to be confused with the awesome post-millennial, Tennessee rock band Paramore although probably equally hard to swallow!) these contain paracetamol and dihydrocodeine and tend to make you feel a little floopy... The did not get rid of the pain, however they did stop me giving a fuck about the pain so something of a result!
The next day I forgot to take them to work and could only get paracetamol before my 8am shift started which was as effective as covering to area in dripping and chanting! Thus began my three pronged attack. Back at Boots, I asked for something strong with which I could take paracetamol... The gave me ibrupofen with dihydrocodeine! Once again the pain remained but I was so "hopped up on goofballs" that I couldn't do my work, and that coupled with the pain sent me home.
At this point I believed my back pain to be nothing more than the residuals from an old hockey injury (wow, never sounded gayer, or more middle-class!!) so I bought myself a heat pack and some mags and went home to rest up vowing that a few back exercises would have me back in work the next day!
The next day following badly thought out back stretches designed for sprains and pulls, my back was in agony so I took myself down to the walk in centre in Manchester. After a brief wait I saw a nurse who basically said I was doing all the right things (how wrong she was).
I spent the rest of the afternoon hobbling between bed, bathroom and sofa and drinking lots of coffee with the pain getting increasingly sharp and stabby and beginning to radiate down my legs with tingling in my toes. A quick look online showed that anything from nerve damage to a slipped bloody disc could be causing the pain and as Nickie wasn't around to be the voice of reason, I began to panic!
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