Sad Sunday

My husband is away at yet another minesite and my daughter is at her Dad’s place so I am in feel-sorry-for-myself mode at home, by myself.

I am feeling not so well: I had another occurrence of the mystery renal type pain yesterday and today I feel still sore and very washed out. I had got up in the morning at 5 to take Himself off to the airport and then my daughter and I had our Auslan class together later in the morning. I started to feel achy before she picked me up at 8 and was feeling quite sore by the time class started, at 9, but was determined to push through it. I love spending time with my girl and we were going to go thrift shopping afterwards to put together a flapper costume for a party she was attending that night. And, besides, class is really fun!

It was a great class and I had a good time, although I am singularly useless at Auslan, it appears. My lack of co- ordination problem apparently extends to my fingers and I do struggle interpreting what our instructor teaches us because my brain doesn’t translate mirror image well. It is an immersion class so no talking allowed (she is deaf) and you use your eyes all the time, with occasional reference to powerpoint displays. There is a lot of practicing in groups and pairs and quite a few games as well and front of class individual demonstration is the norm. Even though I am one of the more useless in the class, I am never made to feel inadequate or belittled in any way when I don’t quite get it: something that I well remember happening from high school days and why I detest being in front of groups of people in a learning environment.

But I was feeling less and less well and when class ended I was glad that my girl didn’t want to eat out. She had some heavy duty painkillers in her car and she gave me two; they kicked in a little and I could help her shop for things that we could sew into a costume. We had the dress but we needed to go to a special craft shop for fringing and beading and feathers and then I’d planned I’d spend the afternoon putting it all together for her. Alas, by the time we got to the next place and I stepped out of the car, the pain was so intense, and I was so nauseated from it, that I knew I couldn’t even walk through the store.

I asked my daughter to drive me to the nearest ER and I tried to breathe through the waves of pain going through me. Without wishing to exaggerate, I felt like it really was the worst pain I could bear. When we got there she dropped me off and went to park and I slowly tottered in. Only to see it was standing room only. I couldn’t, I just couldn’t wait for hours there in the pain I was in and I couldn’t advocate for myself and I couldn’t get my daughter to do it (there are reasons why not). Yes, I know they triage but just to wait to get to triage was obviously around an hour or so, unless you had obvious blood or broken bones. Unexplained pain is NOT a priority at that little ER, well accustomed to regular drug seekers. If I had to be in pain, surely I should just go home? Surely the pain would eventually pass and at that stage it receded just enough to make me think it a workable plan.

So I did, and I took everything I could find in the form of pain relief: prescription, non-prescription, hot packs, sleep aids to try and knock myself out…four  hours of whimpering agony later, that did happen.

Today I feel miserably sore still. Our local doctor clinic has a 2 hour walk in emergency service on Sunday mornings so I shakily walked over there (I do literally live just across the road) and I’ve come away with referral forms, plans for a CT scan and lots of bloodwork. Plus, a prescription for some very  strong painkillers, which have made me feel out of pain for the first time in over 24 hours. The doctor suggested hospital; I declined. He’s not happy about me being on my own but what can I do?

Now I am tossing up whether or not to call in sick to work tomorrow. If I don’t, I need to stop these pills tonight, by 9 at the latest. It will be hard to get somebody to replace me as well, on a long weekend. I hate letting people down. I suspect I will go. I hope it is better soon. Right now I just want somebody around to be nice to me, like the big sooky baby I am; instead, I am going to sleep.

 

 

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About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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