[Journal] So I ended up in hospital yesterday.

So, last night, at about 1:30am, I ended up in hospital. Easter Sunday, Manthing and I decided we weren’t going to cook. We ordered takeout from our local fast-food place (they deliver, which is awesome). For those of you in Aus, you should be familiar with Red Rooster. For those not, it’s basically a place that deals exclusively in chicken. Sometimes bacon. So, I ordered my usual from there.

About two hours after I had eaten, I started to feel unwell. Very unwell. My stomach was churning, I was shaking, I had a fever sweat and then chills and then a fever sweat, etc. It felt like someone had punched me in the guts. Hung over the toilet for a while, nothing. Went to sit back down? Ohshit. We’re going to throw up. Nothing. I proceeded to have a shower to try and ease the accompanying muscle aches – when I get sick, my fibro chimes in with “I wanna play, too!” and causes hell in a hand basket pain-wise – and I threw up all over the shower floor. I can honestly tell you it was one of the most hilariously disgusting things I’ve witnessed. I was sitting down on the shower floor, threw up suddenly all over myself, the walls and the floor. Interestingly enough, dinner smelled the same coming out as it did going in earlier.

By this point, I had taken anti-nausea medication on two different occasions. 15 minutes after I took them, I threw them both back up. Crawl into bed after washing myself off, feel worse than I have in a long while. Suspect food poisoning. I call the nurse advice line we have here and she runs through the symptoms with me and suggests I head off to hospital to be monitored.

Massively sick, fever, chills, unable to hold anything at all down since 10pm. By this time it was bout 1am. On my way to the car, I threw up in the garden, over the railing and then in the laundry sink. I should have marked them off on a bingo card or something. Rather than going to the usual hospital of mine, we went to the closer one. Biggest mistake ever. Last night, it took 5 hours of me throwing up in the main ER room and being violently sick and very dehydrated before I was seen, I was left in a bed for well over an hour when I got transferred to the Short Stay ward and it took them another hour from when I was seen in the ward to do what I had been asking the entire time – give me an anti-nausea shot and let me go home.

I had politely asked a few times when I was going to be seen and they kept saying I was next in line and that it wasn’t a very busy night at all. While in short stay, I tried to explain to the nurse that, with me being sick, I need to take my painkillers to make this ordeal bearable. My pain was slowly climbing it’s way up to a 9 (I don’t tempt fate by using 10, or I know my body will one-up it) and because I couldn’t hold down fluids, I couldn’t take anything and I was very quickly heading towards utter agony. At this point, I was curled up in the fetal position, clutching my stomach and whimpering. I got the filthy “Oh, so you’re a druggie” looks from the young nurse, while the older ones actually seemed to understand and tried to hurry the process along. There were no blood tests or investigation into whether it was something more serious like salmonella from the chicken.

I’d also like to note that there were still pieces of bloody gauze on the floor beneath my bed, and the remnants of blood ON the bed itself. I’m very much aware that my case was far from urgent to start, and was totally happy to wait a little while the more urgent patients got seen before me. Long story short though, I was very unimpressed with the whole ordeal. We didn’t get to leave until something like 7am. We drove home through some very beautiful fog and I had a hot shower and climbed straight into bed.

I’ve only just woken up and I still feel like shit. I have MASSIVE body pains. I literally feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I’m more or less taking the next few days to myself to recover and feel less like patient zero before the zombie apocalypse. Manthing has to help me to and from the toilet because I’m so unsteady on my feet. My skin hurts to touch, the feeling of clothing is causing me a great deal of pain, but the cold would cause me more. Suffice to say that I am a little ball of pain and hate right now and it’s taken considerable effort to write this blog post. Since it’s about me and my whacky adventures in being a sick little munchkin, I figure it warranted a post here.

I’m going to sign off here because I have no sodding idea what else to write. Be good ❤


[Comic and journal] For those that play at home + bonus baby bird!

Your very own game of bingo!

Your very own game of bingo!

While unpacking and sorting all the bits and bobs in the new house, I came across a comic that I had drawn shortly before we left the old house. It sums up my feelings on that place pretty well, actually.

Though we’ve only been here a week (and most of that has been spent out of the house, sleeping or unpacking) I’m already so much more relaxed than I was at our old place. No more paint dust and allergies, no more noisy, nosey neighbours, no more worrying about kids getting run over in the driveway and no more living in other people’s yards. The place here is much older than our last place, but this is a standalone house with a backyard.

Nugget :3

Nugget :3


Speaking of backyards, here’s a bonus picture of Nugget, our little baby house sparrow. When we moved in to our new home, I heard a scratching, cheeping party up in our gutters. With the help of a friend, we discovered the nest of a pair of house sparrows and their three babies. Given that the bubs were fully feathered (roughly 10-14 days old) and it was a 40’c day here, the hot gutters were no place for them, especially given the way the nest would be washed into our drain and cause all sorts of issues. So, we upset mum and dad sparrow and shifted the nest. One of the babies was old enough to go “Shitshitshit!” all the way into a nearby tree to where the parents were grumping. The other two were too dehydrated to do much, so I took them in and watered them and kept them overnight.

I should clarify here that ‘watering the sparrow’ is not a euphemism, nor does it involve a watering can.

The second eldest was released the following day and gave me a distasteful chirp before joining hi family in the same tree. Nugget, the youngest could barely manage a belly flop, let alone get lift. Thus began my brief stint as the Bird Mother.

Nugget stayed with us for seven days. Every morning I’d put her out on the back lawn along with a shallow dish of water and some seed mix to encourage her family to feed and teach her how to eat. Every night she’d come back inside, get watered a little (for the first few nights) and fed and put to bed. As someone who’s spent a considerable amount of time raising wild birds and releasing them, adopting strays and doing the odd ’emergency’ call for friends and family, Nugget soon realised that I wasn’t going to put her in my mouth and nom on the little fluffball.

I also need to mention that just now, while writing this, I was attacked by the world’s biggest click bug. Seriously. That bitch was huge.

Yesterday Nugget managed to increase her bellyflop-to-getofftheground ratio enough to make it to the same tree along with the rest of her family, where her siblings promptly boffed her on the head to establish pecking order and then they all came back down to eat some more. When we get a bit more settled, I’ll be putting a nesting box out on a pole in the backyard (under the tree) so the little buggers can stay the hell out of my gutters while still being the adorable little featherballs I love.

In the meantime, the weather here has been pretty brutal. Storms and rain almost every afternoon have been flipping the bird to my body the whole time, which has made unpacking a long and painful process. I’ve resigned myself to a roster of lying in bed and being miserable, wandering about on errands while waiting for painkillers to kick in and then unpacking in a haze of lethargy, painkiller dopiness and general grumpiness, and not always in that order.

On the plus side, because of how exhausted I’ve been lately, I’ve actually been sleeping through the night, which is a miracle in and of itself. I also have another comic for tomorrow (or when I upload it) of my amazing, brilliant, not-so-good costuming fun time :3

In the meantime, there is sleep to be had what with it being 1:50am. Yup. I’m that much of a badass.


Can I go back to bed now?

I’ll be honest with you all. Today pretty much sucked. In fact, the suck rating is so high that it’s only 5pm and I’m willing to bet that the time between now and bed will also suck pretty hard, too.

After having a really motivated night, I crawled into bed, fell asleep within 10 minutes and only woke up once last night. That’s kind of a new record for me. Unfortunately, when I woke up in the morning, it was more like a scene from Shaun of the Dead than that bitch Snow White being woken up with her kiss. I walked into two doorframes, nearly tripped over my pants while trying to have my morning pee, eventually made it back to the kitchen and tried to make a bowl of cereal sans bowl, put my phone in the fridge and took the milk back to my desk to send a text.


On the upside, I still had a visit from my sister and her incredibly adorable spawn to look forward to, right? Yeah, about that. I got the following message from my body:

Yeah, we know you had plans and all, but there’s been some scheduled maintenance for a week now set for today. Oh, you didn’t get the memo? Well, we sent it out. Clearly the issue is on your end. Anyway, back to the mainta- … Yes. We’re aware that we could have scheduled the work to be done while you were asleep already, but you’re sick. We figured you wouldn’t have plans anyway.

Oh. You DO have plans? Well, we didn’t get the memo. (Further proof the issue is on YOUR end, not ours) Point is, you needed to be asleep an hour ago. Don’t like it? Too bad. We’re hitting system shut down in 5 minutes. You can either be in bed where you’re comfy, or wake up drooling on the keyboard again.

Your call.




So, aside from coming to the conclusion that my body is a complete, engorged, throbbing dick, I did my best and lived in hope. Surely I only needed an hour or two of sleep, right? I could pick back up in the afternoon, still see family, maybe even cook dinner for everyone and we’d have an awesome time, right? RIGHT?

Gogo 4:20pm. I wrench my eyes open to the sound of my phone screaming at me for the 3rd time in the last 20 minutes as manthing attempts to ascertain whether I’m actually around or whether I’ve eloped with the postman. I manhandle my phone to mash out something semi-coherent, letting him know I’m still alive (fat thumbs do not a touchpad’s friend make), try to make sense of the platitude of nightmares I had to deal with (everything from being at a carnival to suddenly being Arwen from LoTR, being back at home, trying to run away with Ron Weasly, calling the police on my father and then trying to retrieve a precious set of books from the garage. Meds are fun, kids!) and then before you know it, it’s time to jump in the car, get petrol, get dinner and try not to maul anyone at the shopping centre.

On the upside for today, I don’t have to cook dinner. Yay.