THE E.R

So it was beautiful in Adelaide, really beautiful. I could get used to living there but I'm pretty sure I say that about every place I visit. The only thing that ruined my holiday was my body ...nothing new there.

In ten days I managed blistered feet, the worst asthma attack I've had in ages, an allergic reaction to something that made my lip swell up and my forehead break out, really severe gastric reflux and the killer- pain around my biopsy site so severe it hurt to sit and stand. I was irritated by all food and liquid which was so unkind in a food lovers paradise. Eventually I gave in and took myself to hospital doubled up with pain. They couldn't work it out. Nothing new there. I am used to being an enigma.

The husband can not understand why I don't fall in a heap and seemed surprised when I replied "because you wouldn't let me." It's true. He pushes me not to give in even when I'm feeling as sick as I have been in the last few days.

So I return to Perth and the pain gets worse and worse. Three hours later I'm back in hospital - same nonsense, different state. Help me somebody!! The gastric reflux is out of control, the back pain is excruciating. This is my holiday.

The E.R is a hive of activity. The staff worry I may be having a heart attack and take me straight in. I'm exhausted, pulse beating rapidly, blood pressure much higher than normal. Not a heart attack. Never thought it was but they need to eliminate all possibilities so I go with the flow.

In a nearby bed an elderly man loses bowel control but seems blissfully unaware. There is no privacy. I hear everything. A drug addict tries to make a run for it before a giant orders him back to bed. He obeys and behaves, much to the relief of his pint sized nurse. Across from me an emaciated woman boasts to an orderly how she tricked somebody about something. I'm guessing from the look of her its lies about food. The orderly catches my eye and grins. He's seen it all and heard it all before.

A scream erupts from another bay. Somebody is protesting about the lack of drugs being given to her. It's surreal watching all these stories unfold at once. I'm sleepy and sore from yet another cannula in my arm.

Blood tests done.
Scan done.
Pain medication taken.
And lengthy questions and answers dealt with successfully despite the drowsiness overtaking me. I educate two new doctors about Cowdens syndrome. Success.

I tell them I am waiting for biopsy results from the area which now aches. They tell me they've found my results. "Not enough tissue taken to make a diagnosis." My heart breaks a little because that means it will have to be repeated. More pain.

But there's more. The pain has nothing to do with the biopsy. I have pneumonia. What the hell? I start to laugh but it's the laugh of someone high on pain meds and low on energy. I probably sound crazy.

Diagnosis achieved.
Treatment plan done.
Patient discharged 11 pm

Till next time xxx