* Warning - This post went on longer than I planned *
It was coming up to Easter 1998. I had turned 30 a while back and I was going through a crisis of confidence regarding my health. My dad had died when I was young from heart failure and I felt I was now 'old' because I wasn't in my twenties anymore. Also my son was the same age as I was when my dad died so I was feeling fragile.
I went for a check-up at the doctors just to make sure I was OK. I am a man who doesn't go to doctors. I'll tough it out, if I can, so the fact I was there with nothing wrong with me was a sign of my worry.
He took a blood sample, something I had never had happen to me before....ever! He listenend to my heart and did all the other stuff needed to check me out. He told me he would send the blood away and contact me at a later date but he was sure I was healthy. Yay.
I left the Health Centre and went to get Fish n Chips. The shop owner said 'How are you today?' and I replied 'I'm fine... and it's official.... I AM fine'.
I drove from there to McDonalds to get my son a Happy Meal and whilst in the drive-thru I came over very dizzy and felt extremely weak. My leg started shaking and I started to panic at my sudden and rapid decline. I just had to get home and stop driving. By the time I got there I was shaking uncontrollably and sweating. What the hell was wrong with me?
The next morning I went to work even though I was in utter meltdown. I rang the Health Centre with the ludicrous question ' Would taking a blood test make me feel like this?' I honestly thought a syringe of blood may have triggered my weakness. By 10.30 the receptionists at work, had told my boss that I looked like death and I should go home. My boss rang me and insisted I went to the doctors, so off I went for the second time in 24 hours. This time I was shaking, sweating and so weak.
I couldn't see my own doctor at short notice so another one agreed to see me. He took a urine sample and told me to go home and rest. 'You have flu' He told me. I stayed in bed all day and all night.
When I woke in the morning my right leg had turned purple. When I pointed it downward (never mind put any weight on it) I was in agony. WTF!! I stayed in bed and my (then) wife brought me cups of tea and biscuits. The hairdresser came around to do her hair. He was a family friend and when he saw me he insisted I went to the doctors again. 'It's clearly not flu' he pointed out. 'Get to the emergency doctors straight away'.
It had to be emergency doctors because it was now Good Friday and the Health Centre was shut. With a huff and a puff, my (then) wife took me to the on-call doctors. As soon as they saw my leg then they were in no doubt I had to get over to the hospital, immediately.
At the hospital they kept me waiting for about an hour and then transferred me to a cubicle. My wife was phobic of hospitals so I let her go home. It was 3 hours later ( I still felt like crap) when a consultant entered the cubicle.
He looked at my leg....
looked at my foot....
saw a sceptic toenail I had going on....
Pointed at it and said
'There's the problem, you have sceptisemia(blood poisoning).
That could kill you'...
and with that, he was gone.
I was left for another hour, alone, and panicking at the wonderful 'bed-side-manner' of the pompous git who told me my little toe might kill me.
In the space of two days I had gone form 'paranoid 30 year old' - to - deaths door - via - 'you have flu'.
I was eventually put into the ward for people waiting for operations. There were no beds free in the rest of the hospital.
Because it was Easter the operations were 'on hold' and so there were spare beds in the operations ward. Also, because it was Easter, there was very few staff on duty. I had a drip of anti-biotics pumped into me and more blood taken than Dracula would need.
To think, I hadn't had any blood taken before!
My fever and the morphine was making me crazy. I was convinced the nurses were making noises on purpose to keep me awake. The consultants would not see me and give me any news of my progress until after Easter Sunday so I was also convinced they were going to let me die. I couldn't move because of my inflated, purple leg. I was in such a state.
It took three or four weeks to get fully better. Needless to say, I was back at work within a week. Now that is dedication for you. The only other time I have had off work in 20 years was when my jaw was broken. That's a story for another day.
That my friends is the story of how I came close to death.
The End
Random Shite:
The Best of Times - Styx
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