You know that feeling on a Sunday evening, when regardless of the time, your cosy bed is just calling you? Well this evening Andy and I went to our respective rooms around eight. At nine an ambulance arrived at our little flat.
Andy had not been feeling well all day. He does suffer from IBS but this was something different. He was doubled up all day in pain and had spent most of the day in agony. Eventually, he rang 111 or whatever the number is now for NHS Direct that is no more, but you get where this is going. I was in my room watching Dragon's Den when he comes in, in a right panic saying they are sending an ambulance. I thought, yeah right. Then, as by magic, there was an ambulance with lights flashing outside of our flat.
Talk about panic. The ambulance crew come up and I left them to it in the lounge and went back to my room. Thirty minutes later I am throwing on some clothes and climbing in the back of an ambulance. The ambulance crew were so lovely. They ended up giving Andy gas and air and he was getting high as a kite. I wanted some! So we eventually are taken up to St Thomas's hospital which is still south of the river but opposite the Houses of Parliament. The ambulance staff were so attentive and caring and we were all having a laugh to be honest.
We are taken into a room and he ambulance people leave us and then the fun begins. Sunday night in a hospital in central London.
We are so lucky to have the NHS and I was very impressed with the service Andy received. I was explaining to him how August is known as the 'Killing Fields' in the NHS. Whilst I felt uncomfortable for using this turn of phase after actually visiting the awful Killing Fields in Cambodia this year, this is a fact. It is because all the new Doctors have qualified and are ready to impress and put their new found skills to the test.
This was apparent when his Doctor turned up. She was very polite and asked plenty of questions whilst prodding him all over his stomach as he winced in pain. Prior to her arriving I was saying to Andy that if there was any justice in the world this would turn in to a RomCom and Doctor Carter from ER will walk in the door, take one look at me with no make up on, tired and fed up and fall madly in love with me. Guess what? It never happened. We called Andy's new Killing Fields Doctor Doctor Neela as in ER.
She then tried to extract some blood and after examining his veins decided to opt for his left hand. She thought it was two attempts, it was in fact three, out trickled a pathetic amount, but Doctor Neela seemed pleased with it. She said that she thought Andy had an appendicitis and she would be back. His poor little face. I swear the colour drained. He did look rather scared. IV painkillers were administered and a saline drip.
The Department started to get busy when in rolled two Surgeons. They were obviously Surgeons. Oh I forgot to mention that I was fed up explaining that I was not his mother and swore that the next person to assume this I would explain to them that he has been my lover for the past eight years! The Surgeons examined him and asked the same questions and said they would be back. No one come back.
We were sandwiched between a man aged around 55 who was rather drunk with his head cut open. He spend the entire time we were there moaning to his family and demanding to go home. Tough on the family. We could not see these people, just hear them through the walls. To the other side there was a man's voice with a transatlantic twang. We had to giggle as the Nurse asked this guy if he would like a sandwich and he said 'Oh yes please can I have smoked salmon and cream cheese?' .............. He was given egg salad! God bless the NHS. I said to Andy that knowing my luck it is Bart next door because he has fallen off his skateboard and the only way I would be leaving the hospital was on a trolley with a sheet over me, being pushed by Andy.
The hours dragged on and finally they come back to say his bloods were ok, it was not an appendicitis and he could now go home, but still in pain. He was not offered any further advice or indication what it could be. So there we were trying to get out of the hospital and when we finally found an exit we were greeting by the chimes of Big Ben striking 2:45am! By then, my feet had swollen up to the size of Hobbit's feet again and we, well me, hobbled to the bus stop to get the night bus home. However, faith in the human race was restored as two guys on the bus offered up their seat for me. I declined as I needed to be standing as I had sat down long enough as it was.
We got back home around 3:15am. Tired and Andy still in pain. I thought we were having to go to the Dignitas cabinet and administer our own pain relief. Obviously, Little Miss Curious could then not get to sleep because of all the excitement and I think I finally drifted off around 4:30. Not the most ideal way of spending a Sunday evening if I am honest.
Update: Monday morning and Sick Note is still in pain but it has eased slightly. And he thinks he is my carer!
As always, with love x
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