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 ❤