Life update: not dead, ate potatoes.

Remember when I was ill earlier in the week? I’m still ill. At least now I feel like a human being and I’m eating plain cooked pasta and mashed potato like it’s the best thing on the planet. It’s so boring. I crave sauce.

Tomorrow is First Day At New Job Take Two, since I had to call in sick on Tuesday (which should have been my first day) and then push the start date back by a full week, much to my eternal shame. It was, however, a good decision, considering I haven’t eaten any real food for a whole week and spent several days wishing for death.

The most exciting day was Friday (Saturday?) –  I ended up reluctantly going to A&E after seven hours of chest pains that Gaviscon, indigestion tablets, ginger ale, milk, water, ice, painkillers and making myself throw up failed to conquer. I was there for four hours, during which time:

  • I was told I probably had indigestion (I nearly melted away from shame)
  • I spent a lot of time on my own on a trolley, because I told Sean I wouldn’t be long and to just wait for me in the reception. HA.
  • Some absolute rocket was going off his head at everything. The doctors, the fact that he was in hospital, the fact that he had to get a blood test, the fact that the blood test hurt, the fact that his wife (I presume it was his wife?) wouldn’t let him go home…Terry, u ok hun?
  • I had a bunch of tests, and was given my own “personalised bracelet”. This was suspicious, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if I was deficient in just about everything, so I thought maybe they were going to hard reset me with a drip and send me on my way.

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  • Was told that my liver something gall bladder something in my blood test was elevated, and they were going to keep me in for observation.
  • Five minutes later I was told that after speaking to the surgeon (THE SURGEON, I’m thinking in alarm, I thought I had indigestion?) he was happy for me to go home.
  • Five minutes later the surgeon called the nice doctor back and said he wanted to come down and speak to me.
  • Eventually managed to escape after being lined up for a high priority MRI scan at some point to double check I haven’t grown a cheeky wee gallstone in the past three month.

My life is WILD. Imagine what I’ll get up to when I can do things like “stand up” and  “leave the house”.

We’ll find out tomorrow. Hopefully. Please.

 

I am so miserable, please send me ice lollies.

This week was going to be so good. I had a load of blog posts scheduled, I’d started writing a couple of other things, I’d had a good weekend away in Derby, I was ready for my first day at my new job…

Within a couple of hours of being home on Monday night, I was horizontal turned into the worst stomach bug I have had for about fifteen years. This morning I really wanted someone to come and put me down. It’s horrendous.

I suspect norovirus, but I’m not allowed to confirm with the doctor or mix with the general population. Probably just as well as everyone I see is starting to morph into walking chicken drumsticks, like in a cartoon.

I am SO hungry.

So yeah, I had to push start date of new job back after calling in sick on what should have been my first day. I’ve had to abandon my first week of a concrete streaming schedule because I can hardly stand up and look like death awoken. I haven’t been able to go and visit my granny because I’m Patient Zero. I haven’t eaten for four days, and for someone who’s obsessed with food this is the worst.

The only point of this post is because I’m feeling sorry for myself and I’ve bored Sean to death already by telling him every ten minutes how hungry I am and how miserable I am and how terrible I feel. Normal service will resume soon. In the meantime, please send me ice lollies and anything else that won’t turn me inside out when I eat it. Thank you very much.

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The medical care has been top quality, however.