I've been feeling a little below par for a while now. Really since the first gallbladder attack at the end of June. I haven't felt well since then, and I'm weary of feeling ill. I just want to be well again.
As you know, I had my gallbladder operation at the end of August. I thought that would fix me - I thought it was just a case of recovering from that and I would be back on track again. But my body obviously had other ideas. Last Friday I was at work, and about five minutes before my lunch hour started I started to get pain in my stomach. I waited until my lunch hour startedand went to the toilet thinking maybe I just needed to go. Within minutes I was again in intense pain, like the first attack, and I started panicking. My team leader came in and I managed to tell her I needed to go home. I told her what was wrong and how it felt, and she went off to get our first aider who, it turned out, had had the same problem herself so she understood every bit of it. I phoned Frazer to ask him to come and get me, but within five minutes an ambulance had been called, so I let him know to meet us at the hospital. Our first aider came with me, and it was a huge comfort to know that she understood everything I was going through.
It took ages to get to the hospital, and every bump in the road (Edinburgh roads are in a dreaful state) hurt as the morphine hadn't kicked in yet. When I got there they stuck me in a cubicle in A&E and left me for a while. A nurse came in to help me get changed, then left. A doctor came in eventually (she was about 12!!!) and asked a few questions and left. Another doctor came in after a while, asked some more questions, and left. I was left on my own, in pain for about four hours, bar maybe three visits of about 10 minutes each from doctors who asked the same questions again and again. Within that time they took me for an X-Ray. Eventually they allowed Frazer to come in - the first aid lady from work had had to leave by that point. The morphine had started to work by this point and the pain had eased a little. They took me down for an ultrasound, but couldn't find anything. My stomach was really hurting from all the prodding.
When I got back to A&E from the ultrasound there were no cubicles free, so I spent the next two hours in a corridor. I was less than impressed. Edinburgh Royal Infirmary has only been open about 5 years, and whoever designed it should be shot. They do not have the capacity to serve a city and they do not have enough staff. The service I received at Borders General Hospital when I was rushed in there was FAR superior. And yet you would think that it would be better in a brand new hospital in our capital city wouldn't you?
They gave me some more painkillers, and eventually decided that it would be better for me to go home, and request an MRI scan from Borders General. They think I still have a gallstone left inside, but it didn't show up on the ultrasound which is why they want the MRI. We waited another hour while they typed a letter for the doctor and a prescription. Despite us saying we had to get home to Isla they still did not stir themselves to get a move on. Unimpressed.
Anyway, I had every intention of going back to work on Tuesday after I had seen the doctor on Monday, but she signed me off for a week. The paramedics had said that I probably went back to early, and the doctor said that because of Friday, and because I am constantly tired and haven't been well for months that she would sign me off to "take things easy"! So, obviously now we have a pristinely clean house, I'm cooking interesting and never done before recipes, and I've made all my Christmas cards! There's organisation for you!
I'm still not feeling brilliant, but mymum and dad are coming over at the end of next wek for my mum's 60th, so I'm looking forward to that. Sometimes all you need is a bit Mummy hug!
1 day ago
