How not to pass a Friday
Saturday, July 23rd, 2005 09:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanI am up rather early for a Saturday morning, having collapsed onto my bed at about 7pm last night and woken up for a half hour around midnight before sleeping through again until 8.30 this morning.
I am sitting here with a pile of medication on one side and a can of coke on the other, being banned from drinking (or eating) anything hot (or spicy) for 5 days. I have a snotty nose that I am not allowed to blow, but at least I can breathe through it most of the time. Thursday night and most of yesterday was not a pleasant period for yours truly.
You know that you're in for an interesting time when you realise that for the third time in one day, three of the five major orifices on your head are pouring claret in big, red and never ending blobs into any and every receptacle you can get your hands on. This went on, periodically for a four hour stretch, when any exertion greater than scratching an itch was enough to start the flow off.
Thus it was that I found myself sitting in the A&E observation ward at Barnet Hospital from 1am to 10am on Friday morning, wearing what can only be described as a nose sling, which held in place two charmingly named nasal tampons (now there's a picture), which at 8cm each are amongst the last things you willing want shoved their full length up your nostrils. In my right arm, I had what could only be described a plastic tap - not joined to anything, just there in case, after blood samples had been taken and a saline shot administered.
Between that and the nosebag, you will understand the level of trepidation I was experiencing at this point.
Despite being offered a bed, I elected to sit in a reclinable chair for the night. It's not as if there was any chance of sleeping despite being dog tired. Cold drinks only, and strict orders not to talk.
Out of sheer boredom, and to pass the time, I scribbled down some impressions on a photocopied Patient History Sheet, and it's those I am using to remind me now of what I was feeling at the time.
Spending the early hours being pretty much ignored except for a blood pressure test at 5.30 am, in a ward where one person is on suicide watch, and another, a very ancient and demented old lady called Lily passed the night being pretty much restrained from hurting herself by a nurse whose patience was severely stretched, is not an uplifting experience. Especially when your face is throbbing and you can only breathe through your mouth.
The only bright spot was that once it got daylight, I was able to wander on to the car park for some fresh air. The view across the ridge from Barnet Hospital is actually quite nice, and in the first hour or so after dawn, the view through the mist is quite enlivening.
By 8.30am it was clear that the local Ear, Nose and Throat (ENT) people neither had the capacity nor desire to see another patient, so I am referred to the Royal Free Hospital in Hampstead. The ambulance gets me there at about 12.30 and I am seen immediately, which is nice. Except that the correct equipment wasn't where it was supposed to be, and the rather prissy South African doctor threw a hissy fit and stormed off until it was sorted, leaving me wearing an increasingly manky nosebag, the condition of which was not helped by the sneezing fit I was now experiencing (I'd have thought it impossible to sneeze with bloody great absorbent thingies shoved up into your sinuses, but believe me when I say you can. Snot will find a way. And an exit).
Finally, by 2pm, the doctor is back, and despite his prissy, preppy nature, is very competent.
My nerves, already frayed, are stretched a little further when he produces a selection of stainless steel and plastic devices ready to invade my nose, and dons some rather technical looking post modern head gear, which would not come amiss in a science fiction movie.
For the next 20 minutes, I allow my face to be subjected to the most thoroughly unpleasant experience it's ever had with my co-operation and acquiescence. The word cauterization is involved. It easily beat the previous 12 hours, in which I thought I'd become an expert on just how mightily uncomfortable a malfunctioning neb could be.
And then it was over. No more blood, and a comparatively free airway. But my God, how the snot glands compensate...
I had to wait another hour and a half for the prescription to be made up by the hospital pharmacy, and spent that alternately wandering around outside, enjoying having a clear nose, and sitting in the cafeteria eating a couple of sarnies and a cold fruit drink (able to SMELL but not touch coffee). And then home on the bus.
Kudos to DT without whom I wouldn't have made it to the hospital, clutching as I was, various absorbent things in an attempt to prevent myself bleeding all over the taxi in the early hours of Friday morning, and for sitting around in A&E, providing moral support until it became clear they were not letting me out for the duration. I owe the lad a fair number of pints for moral support. And for cleaning the various sinks and bowls left around the Athenaeum Club in my haste to be gone.
I am off for another lie down.
I am sitting here with a pile of medication on one side and a can of coke on the other, being banned from drinking (or eating) anything hot (or spicy) for 5 days. I have a snotty nose that I am not allowed to blow, but at least I can breathe through it most of the time. Thursday night and most of yesterday was not a pleasant period for yours truly.
You know that you're in for an interesting time when you realise that for the third time in one day, three of the five major orifices on your head are pouring claret in big, red and never ending blobs into any and every receptacle you can get your hands on. This went on, periodically for a four hour stretch, when any exertion greater than scratching an itch was enough to start the flow off.
Thus it was that I found myself sitting in the A&E observation ward at Barnet Hospital from 1am to 10am on Friday morning, wearing what can only be described as a nose sling, which held in place two charmingly named nasal tampons (now there's a picture), which at 8cm each are amongst the last things you willing want shoved their full length up your nostrils. In my right arm, I had what could only be described a plastic tap - not joined to anything, just there in case, after blood samples had been taken and a saline shot administered.
Between that and the nosebag, you will understand the level of trepidation I was experiencing at this point.
Despite being offered a bed, I elected to sit in a reclinable chair for the night. It's not as if there was any chance of sleeping despite being dog tired. Cold drinks only, and strict orders not to talk.
Out of sheer boredom, and to pass the time, I scribbled down some impressions on a photocopied Patient History Sheet, and it's those I am using to remind me now of what I was feeling at the time.
Spending the early hours being pretty much ignored except for a blood pressure test at 5.30 am, in a ward where one person is on suicide watch, and another, a very ancient and demented old lady called Lily passed the night being pretty much restrained from hurting herself by a nurse whose patience was severely stretched, is not an uplifting experience. Especially when your face is throbbing and you can only breathe through your mouth.
The only bright spot was that once it got daylight, I was able to wander on to the car park for some fresh air. The view across the ridge from Barnet Hospital is actually quite nice, and in the first hour or so after dawn, the view through the mist is quite enlivening.
By 8.30am it was clear that the local Ear, Nose and Throat (ENT) people neither had the capacity nor desire to see another patient, so I am referred to the Royal Free Hospital in Hampstead. The ambulance gets me there at about 12.30 and I am seen immediately, which is nice. Except that the correct equipment wasn't where it was supposed to be, and the rather prissy South African doctor threw a hissy fit and stormed off until it was sorted, leaving me wearing an increasingly manky nosebag, the condition of which was not helped by the sneezing fit I was now experiencing (I'd have thought it impossible to sneeze with bloody great absorbent thingies shoved up into your sinuses, but believe me when I say you can. Snot will find a way. And an exit).
Finally, by 2pm, the doctor is back, and despite his prissy, preppy nature, is very competent.
My nerves, already frayed, are stretched a little further when he produces a selection of stainless steel and plastic devices ready to invade my nose, and dons some rather technical looking post modern head gear, which would not come amiss in a science fiction movie.
For the next 20 minutes, I allow my face to be subjected to the most thoroughly unpleasant experience it's ever had with my co-operation and acquiescence. The word cauterization is involved. It easily beat the previous 12 hours, in which I thought I'd become an expert on just how mightily uncomfortable a malfunctioning neb could be.
And then it was over. No more blood, and a comparatively free airway. But my God, how the snot glands compensate...
I had to wait another hour and a half for the prescription to be made up by the hospital pharmacy, and spent that alternately wandering around outside, enjoying having a clear nose, and sitting in the cafeteria eating a couple of sarnies and a cold fruit drink (able to SMELL but not touch coffee). And then home on the bus.
Kudos to DT without whom I wouldn't have made it to the hospital, clutching as I was, various absorbent things in an attempt to prevent myself bleeding all over the taxi in the early hours of Friday morning, and for sitting around in A&E, providing moral support until it became clear they were not letting me out for the duration. I owe the lad a fair number of pints for moral support. And for cleaning the various sinks and bowls left around the Athenaeum Club in my haste to be gone.
I am off for another lie down.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 09:06 am (UTC)Glad you're OK.
Best wishes for a totally bloodnsnot free nose.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 09:26 am (UTC)Convalescing hugs to you. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 09:35 am (UTC)Now that takes me back to my childhood [cue Bonzos song]. As a kid I well and truly suffered from hayfever which seemed to lead to nosebleeds a plenty (although you beat me hands down, the worst I had was for maybe half an hour or more). As a solution, they took me to have my nostrils cauterized - a strange experience, a chemistry type splint (spill?) was shoved up my nose and an unpleasant burning sensation ensued. Both times I sneezed right in the face of the doctor, well it was partly his fault for not warning me. The nosebleeds stopped for about 2-3 years, but have never been so bad since.
Still, it's good to hear that all is better now. Have a relaxing weekend.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 09:40 am (UTC)Claret is better in than out, chap, even if cauterisation is required.
Pack your nose with ice cream. It's for the best, really.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 11:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 12:03 pm (UTC)Personally I've always found that using my nose is best avoided - can't breathe through it or smell much anyway, so what's the point? It's a totally expendable organ with regards to its function - however the aesthetics are a different matter.
Sorry about that, I'm a bit bitter at the mo as I find myself unexpectedly full of snot. I am, however, glad that you reminded me just how much worse it could be, but not glad that you had to go through it.
Does it come down to high blood pressure?
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-24 12:13 pm (UTC)Generally, though, I wouldn't be without me neb.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 12:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 12:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 01:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-24 12:14 pm (UTC)I always knew I hated hot weather. There's the proof!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 02:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 03:14 pm (UTC)Best wishes from all of us here for a speedy recovery. Did they bother to tell you what had happened?
And a big helping of kudos to Beaterion D. Wildebeeste from us, too.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-24 12:11 pm (UTC)As to knowing precisely what set it off, not really, no.
From what I can gather, it was a bacterial infection, aggravated by a combination of high blood pressure and the hot weather. And of course, the longer it went on, the more anxious I got and so my blood pressure rose, making it worse. So it became a self-reinforcing cycle.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 04:40 pm (UTC)Yeesh!
Look after yourself y'hear and try and keep the claret on the inside where it belongs.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 04:44 pm (UTC)At least we all have good ideas for Christmas present now
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-23 06:24 pm (UTC)Do they know what caused it? Hate to have a relapse...
By the way...
Date: 2005-07-23 06:32 pm (UTC)Wasn't this a band in the 80s?
Re: By the way...
Date: 2005-07-24 12:15 pm (UTC)If it wasn't, we should re-write history so that they did exist!
Nasal Health Service
Date: 2005-07-23 07:38 pm (UTC)Glad you are fixed, but next-time we need photographs, movies and a set of outtakes.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-24 09:47 am (UTC)Do they know what brought this on? Is it sinuses? It must have been hard to breathe without breathing all of that in the wrong way...... many thanks and appreciations to the person who went with you; I feel an urge to come over there right now and take care of you. Yes, even with my train phobia damnit. I'm off work now so if there's anything I can do...ok?
Ah.... could this be the time to catch up on the Harry Potter sextuplet?
All the best; you are such a mainstay in my life here and in my mind, just tke care and be safe :)
XXX
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-24 12:08 pm (UTC)As far as I can tell, since the doctors were not magnificently forthcoming, it was a bacterial infection (I apparently had a slightly raised temperature), aggravated by a combination of high blood pressure and the hot weather. And of course, the longer it went on, the more anxious I got and so my blood pressure rose, making it worse. So it became a self-reinforcing cycle.
I should have gobne to the A&E earlier, I am told. They were all a bit surprised that I toughed it out as long as I did. Still, I've always been a bit of an idiot... ;-)