llywela: (FS-facepull)
So it's been a busy week.

First off, there was the Cardiff ComicCon last weekend, which was a lot of fun, and then the lovely Sue and nephew Adam came to stay and the weather couldn't have been more glorious if we'd arranged it specially. We took in the Doctor Who Experience, which was as much fun this year as it was last summer when I went and had a bunch of new exhibits, including the First Doctor's console room, as recreated for the forthcoming docu-drama An Adventure in Space and Time, which I am looking forward to enormously. They've taken the Zygon costume away, though, which I can only assume is because the Zygons are due to pop up in the anniversary special, so perhaps it'll be brought back with a new exhibit after that?

Perhaps it isn't a good thing that I can tell which exhibits are new and which ones have been removed! I already know I'm going to have to go again next year, to see what they do with the interactive bit after the regeneration...

Then came Wednesday. Now, Sue was with me on Tuesday so can vouch that I was absolutely fine. Then I got into work on Wednesday, rested my elbow on my desk (not the tennis elbow elbow, but the other one, the supposedly healthy one) - and yelped because it hurt. It felt bruised, which was weird, because I don't remember knocking it, but I do have a graze on the elbow that I'd noticed a few days earlier - again, I don't remember doing it, but I'm always knocking myself and not noticing, so I didn't think much of it. When it started hurting on Wednesday I just thought it must have taken a few days for the bruise to come out or something. But during the day it got worse and worse - the elbow became all puffy and swollen, bright red and hot to the touch and very painful. Barely slept a wink all that night, the arm was too painful and I couldn't let anything touch it, couldn't find a comfortable position in bed - spent most of the night curled up in an armchair watching the Fourth Doctor and Sarah battling the Seeds of Doom. Rang the doctor's surgery first thing Thursday morning and spent 10 minutes going round a nightmare loop of telephone menus before finally getting through to a human being, who refused to give me an appointment but took my number for the doctor to ring me back, which didn't happen until 10.30, so no work for me that day - not that I'd have been good for anything anyway. On the bright side, it was Dr Thapar who called and he's lovely and gave me an appointment for midday, examined the elbow and agreed with my self-diagnosis of an infection. So now I'm on antibiotic and two days later the elbow is much improved - still puffy and red and sore and hot to touch, but a lot better than it was; I can actually bend and move my arm again now, for starters!

So I've not been getting much packing done this week, what with having two duff elbows and all, but I need to pick up the pace because a) I'm supposed to be moving in three weeks, and b) this house is sold! We finally found a buyer - a lovely young couple looking for a home to raise the family they are hoping to start. Good timing, really! I'm just keeping my fingers and toes crossed that nothing falls through now.

I can't move for boxes now, which the cats are very excited and curious about. Alfie keeps packing himself!
P1090225

Here are some piccies from the Doctor Who Experience! Cut to spare your flists because I'm kind like that, sometimes )

And last but not least, here's a pretty view across Cardiff Bay, as seen from on board the teeny-tiny ship Daffodil.
P1090340
llywela: (FS-facepull)
Some of you might remember that just over a year ago my older sister was taken ill and (eventually) diagnosed with viral meningitis. She hasn't been right since. The treatment she's received over the past year has been shocking - so many different doctors, who kept first confirming and then denying the diagnosis, changing their minds all the time, mostly because none of them actually know anything about viral meningitis. She had to go private to get the tests done that she needed, then when she finally got to see a consultant neurologist, months later, she found that the test results had been lost. And because the test results had been lost, the doctor refused to believe there was anything wrong with her and took her off all her medication. Months later again she had a follow-up appointment where the first thing the doctor did was apologise profusely because the test results had turned up, proving that she actually had been ill all along and should have been on that medication still all that time - except, of course, that they couldn't have been all that sorry, because if they were they'd have called her back in immediately to get the medication right instead of leaving her without treatment until the appointment! Meanwhile, her symptoms have continued all this time. She still suffers from chronic migraine. She's lost her peripheral vision and is almost blind in one eye. She still can't remember what certain sounds are associated with (i.e. a motorbike will drive past the house but she won't recognise the sound for what it is). She still gets certain scents and tastes mixed up in her head and can't remember what food she likes. Her personality has changed, in subtle but noticeable ways. She's had to give up her 20-year teaching career because she was no longer well enough to continue with such a demanding job. It's been more than 13 months since she was initially hospitalised and all those symptoms remain.

So it was with interest that we spotted the results of a survey carried out by the Meningitist Trust, published to raise awareness of viral meningitis, which is not a widely known illness.

Summary of results
After-effects were experienced by 97% of respondents (Respondents were asked to tick all that were applicable to them):
Exhaustion (78%)
Headaches (70%)
Memory loss (50%)
Anxiety (37%)
Depression (37%)
Dizziness/balance problems (37%)
Hearing difficulties (23%)

Deb checks all those boxes. Clearly this is not an illness that is receiving effective treatment in any cases.

Full results here - some of the other survey results are really quite worrying - such as the fact that over half of all respondents said that viral meningitis had caused them difficulty at work or in education, but only a third had received treatment or therapies for the after-effects of viral meningitis. Only a third of all respondents were offered a follow-up appointment with the hospital and many felt that family, friends, health professionals or employers did not understand the impact of viral meningitis, and were made to feel “a fraud” because of the assumption that most people make a full recovery - such as that doctor who took Deb off all her medication because they'd lost the test results, which obviously meant there was nothing wrong.

It really is food for thought.
llywela: (greatwards-arthurclara)
1. Since Wrangler are the only brand of shoe that has never, ever given me blisters (a reason I really hate feet), I think it is supremely unfair that they no longer sell outside of America. I am reduced to stocking up a few pairs via ebay and whatever online traders still have stock in my size. The bright side of this? New shoes!

2. Went for that ultrasound on Friday, which didn't show up anything abnormal, at least according to the technician, who narrated the entire thing in detail – for the benefit of a student, but it was useful for me, too. Of course, follow-up appointment aside, this leaves me right back at square one, with no explanation for what happened the other week, but then again, as long as it never happens again, I can live with that. Time will tell.

3. After the hospital, I hooked up with my mother for an excursion to the cemetery, which I appreciate might sound a little weird, but its all part of our ongoing genealogical research project. And I shall cut the rest of this account of our pilgramage, since no one is going to be remotely interested except me! )

So, that was my Friday. :)
llywela: (greatwards-arthurclara)
1. Since Wrangler are the only brand of shoe that has never, ever given me blisters (a reason I really hate feet), I think it is supremely unfair that they no longer sell outside of America. I am reduced to stocking up a few pairs via ebay and whatever online traders still have stock in my size. The bright side of this? New shoes!

2. Went for that ultrasound on Friday, which didn't show up anything abnormal, at least according to the technician, who narrated the entire thing in detail – for the benefit of a student, but it was useful for me, too. Of course, follow-up appointment aside, this leaves me right back at square one, with no explanation for what happened the other week, but then again, as long as it never happens again, I can live with that. Time will tell.

3. After the hospital, I hooked up with my mother for an excursion to the cemetery, which I appreciate might sound a little weird, but its all part of our ongoing genealogical research project. And I shall cut the rest of this account of our pilgramage, since no one is going to be remotely interested except me! )

So, that was my Friday. :)

stuff

Jun. 24th, 2010 10:49 am
llywela: (Time)
1. I trod on Alfie this morning. It was his fault. Why do cats always insist on winding themselves around your feet as you walk - do they have no danger sense at all? At least we weren't on the stairs this time, which is his usual let-me-see-if-I-can-trip-you spot. And he forgave me soon enough.

2. Thursday toast is going to end up being banned if people keep setting off the fire alarm!

3. I have an appointment at the hospital for an ultrasound tomorrow. In theory, this might help diagnose whether what happened the other week was a random one-off or a symptom of something more ongoing that is likely to recur. I am hoping for the former. I feel okay now, so okay that I have to consciously remind myself that yes, the pain really was that bad, while it lasted. It would be nice to know the reason, but if I had to choose I could live with never knowing what it was, so long as it never happens again. My current plan is to wander over to the cemetery afterward and track down a few old family graves I've got the details for - might as well make a round trip of it!

4. The Small Sis got herself excluded from school this week - only for one day, but still. She ran away from school for about the fourth time in two months and had a whole bunch of staff chasing her through the woods, because a 14-year-old classed as highly vulnerable can't be left to wander the woods alone. They were furious. She was stressed. She'd stopped taking the pill because it was giving her such bad headaches, but has asked to go back on it again now, because she would rather cope with the headaches than the awful mood swings, which were part of the reason she went on it in the first place. She is very stressed at the moment, too many changes to adjust to quickly, between the switch from year nine to year nine-and-three-quarters syllabus and starting her placement at the farm - not to mention the fact that at the very last minute the placement was switched from Wednesday to Thursday. Small does not deal well with change. Plus, Wednesday was planned for a reason and Thursday really doesn't work as well, for a variety of reasons. And her hassles with the other girls in her class remain ongoing. So, she flipped out and ran away and got a one day exclusion as a result. We've been saying for years that 14 was going to be an appalling age.

5. It seems like forever since I had a proper fandom slurge in this journal - I feel like I've almost forgotten how. I'm just not in a terribly fannish place at the moment, I suppose. Work seems to always be busy, and in the evenings I'm currently more inclined to focus on my ongoing family tree/digitisation project than to pick up any of my outstanding fandom projects. Either that or simply flop in front of a DVD all evening! I've marathoned the whole of Firefly and about four seasons of Grey's Anatomy since summer hiatus started. Watching and thinking but not writing is kind of a new experience for me. Time will tell how long this mood lasts!

stuff

Jun. 24th, 2010 10:49 am
llywela: (Time)
1. I trod on Alfie this morning. It was his fault. Why do cats always insist on winding themselves around your feet as you walk - do they have no danger sense at all? At least we weren't on the stairs this time, which is his usual let-me-see-if-I-can-trip-you spot. And he forgave me soon enough.

2. Thursday toast is going to end up being banned if people keep setting off the fire alarm!

3. I have an appointment at the hospital for an ultrasound tomorrow. In theory, this might help diagnose whether what happened the other week was a random one-off or a symptom of something more ongoing that is likely to recur. I am hoping for the former. I feel okay now, so okay that I have to consciously remind myself that yes, the pain really was that bad, while it lasted. It would be nice to know the reason, but if I had to choose I could live with never knowing what it was, so long as it never happens again. My current plan is to wander over to the cemetery afterward and track down a few old family graves I've got the details for - might as well make a round trip of it!

4. The Small Sis got herself excluded from school this week - only for one day, but still. She ran away from school for about the fourth time in two months and had a whole bunch of staff chasing her through the woods, because a 14-year-old classed as highly vulnerable can't be left to wander the woods alone. They were furious. She was stressed. She'd stopped taking the pill because it was giving her such bad headaches, but has asked to go back on it again now, because she would rather cope with the headaches than the awful mood swings, which were part of the reason she went on it in the first place. She is very stressed at the moment, too many changes to adjust to quickly, between the switch from year nine to year nine-and-three-quarters syllabus and starting her placement at the farm - not to mention the fact that at the very last minute the placement was switched from Wednesday to Thursday. Small does not deal well with change. Plus, Wednesday was planned for a reason and Thursday really doesn't work as well, for a variety of reasons. And her hassles with the other girls in her class remain ongoing. So, she flipped out and ran away and got a one day exclusion as a result. We've been saying for years that 14 was going to be an appalling age.

5. It seems like forever since I had a proper fandom slurge in this journal - I feel like I've almost forgotten how. I'm just not in a terribly fannish place at the moment, I suppose. Work seems to always be busy, and in the evenings I'm currently more inclined to focus on my ongoing family tree/digitisation project than to pick up any of my outstanding fandom projects. Either that or simply flop in front of a DVD all evening! I've marathoned the whole of Firefly and about four seasons of Grey's Anatomy since summer hiatus started. Watching and thinking but not writing is kind of a new experience for me. Time will tell how long this mood lasts!
llywela: (Giles-rose)
Flying post just to say thank you all for your care and concern after my last post. I meant to reply individually, but have stayed largely offline these last few days, in the spirit of resting up. I'm much better now, pain pretty much gone bar a few minor twinges, although rather tired and washed out still - went back to work today and was exhausted. Heaven help me if I'm ever really ill!

Still don't know what it was. Hopefully this ultrasound appointment will come through soon, and even more hopefully it might shed some light on the situation. Either that or I'll never know what it was, and just have to hope it never happens again!

When I feel less knackered and more like myself, I must start posting properly again.
llywela: (Giles-rose)
Flying post just to say thank you all for your care and concern after my last post. I meant to reply individually, but have stayed largely offline these last few days, in the spirit of resting up. I'm much better now, pain pretty much gone bar a few minor twinges, although rather tired and washed out still - went back to work today and was exhausted. Heaven help me if I'm ever really ill!

Still don't know what it was. Hopefully this ultrasound appointment will come through soon, and even more hopefully it might shed some light on the situation. Either that or I'll never know what it was, and just have to hope it never happens again!

When I feel less knackered and more like myself, I must start posting properly again.

crappy day

Jun. 12th, 2010 10:44 am
llywela: (GA-Alex-pensive)
At this precise moment, both my cats are hiding in the back hedge making Hannibal Lecter noises, while a small bird sits on the wall opposite and laughs at them. True story.

Also a true story: I spent most of yesterday at the hospital, which was just so much wasted time because they completely failed to find out what was wrong. Having not felt entirely right all afternoon on Thursday, I was then kept up all night by acute pain in the abdomen - generalised discomfort with sharp stabs of pain mostly on the right side but shifting around to the back. At 1am I was seriously inclined to get the first bus to the hospital in the morning, but eventually the pain pills kicked in and by morning I felt well enough to at least attempt work. I've organised a big conference for our directorate, which comes off next Wednesday, and there are lots of loose ends still to tie up. But work was a bust, I ended up at the university health centre. The nurse there got me an appointment with my GP (boss drove me home), and the GP referred me to the hospital just to be on the safe side, what with the weekend coming up and all. So, I got to hang around A&E for a while, and then was taken up to the surgical admissions ward to be monitored for a few hours, nil by mouth just in case. Wasn't inclined toward food anyway, but not being allowed to drink wasn't much fun, not to mention the headache it brought on. The staff nurse was a very lovely, very charming chap, but gave up after two failed attempts to get a cannula in and had to get a doctor to do it, so I got to feel like a pincushion on top of having a saline and potassium drip to keep me company for a few hours.

Long story short, I spent most of the day being poked and prodded and extremely bored, thirsty and fed up, before the on-call surgical team eventually decided that the appendix was not the problem after all and that since no surgery was necessary I might as well go home. What they completely failed to do was diagnose what was actually causing the pain, since all they were interested in was whether or not they had to cut. So I was sent home shortly before 10pm with painkillers and the promise of an appointment for an ultrasound - which my GP had said they would do yesterday and was half the point of sending me there in the first place - in anything up to 6 weeks time.

Was feeling a lot better by the time I went home, mostly because I'd been given painkillers - although this always feels a bit dicey to me. I mean, you get given pain meds because you are in pain, but the drugs take away the pain, which means the doctors don't actually get to see it, which tends to make me feel a bit like a fraud, like I can't trust my own judgement. Was it really that bad, or was I making a mountain out of a molehill?

Then I remember how a walk of less than 10 minutes to the GP surgery took forever because I had to stopping and grabbing at nearby walls for support when the stabs got bad. That's not normal. I may still not know what caused it, but it wasn't normal and it wasn't nothing. This morning my period started, so maybe it was just really bad period pains...but I've had period pains before, and they were never like that. So again, not normal and not nothing.

Today I still have the headache and am still having intermittent pain, but I have pills, which are helping. I really hope this goes away soon, whatever it is.

crappy day

Jun. 12th, 2010 10:44 am
llywela: (GA-Alex-pensive)
At this precise moment, both my cats are hiding in the back hedge making Hannibal Lecter noises, while a small bird sits on the wall opposite and laughs at them. True story.

Also a true story: I spent most of yesterday at the hospital, which was just so much wasted time because they completely failed to find out what was wrong. Having not felt entirely right all afternoon on Thursday, I was then kept up all night by acute pain in the abdomen - generalised discomfort with sharp stabs of pain mostly on the right side but shifting around to the back. At 1am I was seriously inclined to get the first bus to the hospital in the morning, but eventually the pain pills kicked in and by morning I felt well enough to at least attempt work. I've organised a big conference for our directorate, which comes off next Wednesday, and there are lots of loose ends still to tie up. But work was a bust, I ended up at the university health centre. The nurse there got me an appointment with my GP (boss drove me home), and the GP referred me to the hospital just to be on the safe side, what with the weekend coming up and all. So, I got to hang around A&E for a while, and then was taken up to the surgical admissions ward to be monitored for a few hours, nil by mouth just in case. Wasn't inclined toward food anyway, but not being allowed to drink wasn't much fun, not to mention the headache it brought on. The staff nurse was a very lovely, very charming chap, but gave up after two failed attempts to get a cannula in and had to get a doctor to do it, so I got to feel like a pincushion on top of having a saline and potassium drip to keep me company for a few hours.

Long story short, I spent most of the day being poked and prodded and extremely bored, thirsty and fed up, before the on-call surgical team eventually decided that the appendix was not the problem after all and that since no surgery was necessary I might as well go home. What they completely failed to do was diagnose what was actually causing the pain, since all they were interested in was whether or not they had to cut. So I was sent home shortly before 10pm with painkillers and the promise of an appointment for an ultrasound - which my GP had said they would do yesterday and was half the point of sending me there in the first place - in anything up to 6 weeks time.

Was feeling a lot better by the time I went home, mostly because I'd been given painkillers - although this always feels a bit dicey to me. I mean, you get given pain meds because you are in pain, but the drugs take away the pain, which means the doctors don't actually get to see it, which tends to make me feel a bit like a fraud, like I can't trust my own judgement. Was it really that bad, or was I making a mountain out of a molehill?

Then I remember how a walk of less than 10 minutes to the GP surgery took forever because I had to stopping and grabbing at nearby walls for support when the stabs got bad. That's not normal. I may still not know what caused it, but it wasn't normal and it wasn't nothing. This morning my period started, so maybe it was just really bad period pains...but I've had period pains before, and they were never like that. So again, not normal and not nothing.

Today I still have the headache and am still having intermittent pain, but I have pills, which are helping. I really hope this goes away soon, whatever it is.
llywela: (Dean-thoughtful)
Quick and brief update, as I started to reply to all the people who commented on my last post, in batches, but soon found that even that - with the aid of cut-and-paste, even - was a bit of a strain. One catch-all post instead, then. Thanks to everyone who expressed concern. Despite not wanting to waste hours at the hospital, I ended up there anyway, as the first aider in work sent me down to the uni health centre to get a proper support dressing applied, and the nurse there wasn't comfortable with that and recommended that I go to A&E for x-rays just to be on the safe side.

So, I spent several very boring and very annoying hours up at A&E, exactly as I hadn't wanted, bouncing between triage, x-ray and the physiotherapist, only to be given the same diagnosis I'd reached myself: that nothing is broken and the wrist is 'merely' badly bruised. I'm now under orders to keep icing it (apparently, regular icing for 48 hours after such an injury is recommended) and to keep taking anti-inflammatories, and the physio wants me to keep moving it rather than strap it up.

Getting back to work afterward this little interlude was then even more frustrating than the hours spent hanging around the waiting room, as someone was trying to jump off a bridge at one of the major traffic intersections in the city and the roads all around were completely gridlocked! A 15 minute bus ride ended up taking well over an hour, in fact, so that I got back to the office just in time to go home...

Today, I can use the wrist and hand almost normally, but have to be careful not to overdo it (it soon lets me know if I do) and not to allow anything to press on the bruised areas. What swelling there was seems to be just about gone already, though, so it should be fully recovered very soon, I hope.
llywela: (Dean-thoughtful)
Quick and brief update, as I started to reply to all the people who commented on my last post, in batches, but soon found that even that - with the aid of cut-and-paste, even - was a bit of a strain. One catch-all post instead, then. Thanks to everyone who expressed concern. Despite not wanting to waste hours at the hospital, I ended up there anyway, as the first aider in work sent me down to the uni health centre to get a proper support dressing applied, and the nurse there wasn't comfortable with that and recommended that I go to A&E for x-rays just to be on the safe side.

So, I spent several very boring and very annoying hours up at A&E, exactly as I hadn't wanted, bouncing between triage, x-ray and the physiotherapist, only to be given the same diagnosis I'd reached myself: that nothing is broken and the wrist is 'merely' badly bruised. I'm now under orders to keep icing it (apparently, regular icing for 48 hours after such an injury is recommended) and to keep taking anti-inflammatories, and the physio wants me to keep moving it rather than strap it up.

Getting back to work afterward this little interlude was then even more frustrating than the hours spent hanging around the waiting room, as someone was trying to jump off a bridge at one of the major traffic intersections in the city and the roads all around were completely gridlocked! A 15 minute bus ride ended up taking well over an hour, in fact, so that I got back to the office just in time to go home...

Today, I can use the wrist and hand almost normally, but have to be careful not to overdo it (it soon lets me know if I do) and not to allow anything to press on the bruised areas. What swelling there was seems to be just about gone already, though, so it should be fully recovered very soon, I hope.
llywela: (LoM-Sam-headclutch)
Have busted my wrist.

At least, I'm fairly sure it isn't actually broken, just bruised, although I wasn't so sure last night. What happened? Chelsea happened...although that isn't entirely fair. It was an accident. We were rushing - and that part was her fault, as she refuses to operate to a deadline and thinks nothing of making other people late while she drifts around in a dream world. We were heading to Monday Club, the kids' club that my dad helps run at our church and I volunteer at; Chelsea likes to come and 'help out' as well, although she does precious little actual helping. We were running late, mostly becase Chelsea took ten minutes just to put her shoes on, so hurried out to the car. Chelsea hopped in the back, but left her coat trailing out of the car dragging in the dirt. I went to grab the coat...just as she slammed the car door.

So, yeah, the car door slammed on my wrist. It hurt.

And it's the right hand, of course. You know, just to make life really difficult.

Was quite worried at first - the arm and hand were first very numb and then very painful, but couldn't actually take time for first aid because we were, as mentioned, running late. Chelsea pitched a fit upon being told to be more careful and went back home in tears. I managed to deal with the kids one-handed, then finally went home and iced the wrist for a couple of hours. Was in two minds over whether or not to go to A&E for an x-ray last night, as couldn't bear weight on the hand at all or move the wrist, but decided to wait till this morning and see how it was.

It's better today. Still achey and painful to touch in places where the bruising is coming out, but I've got movement and use of the hand back - the only thing I couldn't do this morning was tip the kettle to pour a cup of tea. More strenuous activities like getting dressed and, as this post is teaching me, long bouts of typing are a bit painful, but I'm fairly sure it is just bruising rather than anything worse. Have seen the first-aider in work, who has applied a support bandage. So now I'm mostly just experimenting to see how much I can and can't do, and hoping it eases up soon.

Fun.
llywela: (LoM-Sam-headclutch)
Have busted my wrist.

At least, I'm fairly sure it isn't actually broken, just bruised, although I wasn't so sure last night. What happened? Chelsea happened...although that isn't entirely fair. It was an accident. We were rushing - and that part was her fault, as she refuses to operate to a deadline and thinks nothing of making other people late while she drifts around in a dream world. We were heading to Monday Club, the kids' club that my dad helps run at our church and I volunteer at; Chelsea likes to come and 'help out' as well, although she does precious little actual helping. We were running late, mostly becase Chelsea took ten minutes just to put her shoes on, so hurried out to the car. Chelsea hopped in the back, but left her coat trailing out of the car dragging in the dirt. I went to grab the coat...just as she slammed the car door.

So, yeah, the car door slammed on my wrist. It hurt.

And it's the right hand, of course. You know, just to make life really difficult.

Was quite worried at first - the arm and hand were first very numb and then very painful, but couldn't actually take time for first aid because we were, as mentioned, running late. Chelsea pitched a fit upon being told to be more careful and went back home in tears. I managed to deal with the kids one-handed, then finally went home and iced the wrist for a couple of hours. Was in two minds over whether or not to go to A&E for an x-ray last night, as couldn't bear weight on the hand at all or move the wrist, but decided to wait till this morning and see how it was.

It's better today. Still achey and painful to touch in places where the bruising is coming out, but I've got movement and use of the hand back - the only thing I couldn't do this morning was tip the kettle to pour a cup of tea. More strenuous activities like getting dressed and, as this post is teaching me, long bouts of typing are a bit painful, but I'm fairly sure it is just bruising rather than anything worse. Have seen the first-aider in work, who has applied a support bandage. So now I'm mostly just experimenting to see how much I can and can't do, and hoping it eases up soon.

Fun.
llywela: (Pros-wheresmybed)
Dental surgery went okay yesterday - thanks everyone who left good wishes. Much, much less traumatic than the last one! The tooth came out more easily than either my dentist or the consultant had anticipated, as well. I want Dr Ramee Whatever-his-last-name-was to look after my mouth always! I bet he wouldn't ever have dropped tooth fragments down my throat like the last chap did...

Having said that, I did fish a couple of fragments out of my mouth afterward, mind.

The whole sedation thing was a bust, though. They gave me temazepan, which was meant to make me really relaxed for the surgery, but even though they gave it an hour to take effect, it didn't do anything. I was no more relaxed going into the surgery than I had been when they gave me the pill. Then it finally kicked in a full hour after the surgery was over already! Fat lot of good that was!

Still, once it kicked in, it kicked in with a vengeance. I was in bed and asleep by 7pm! Unheard of! Slept for almost 12 hours straight, too, apart from a brief interlude at 2.30am when I got up to rinse blood out of my mouth.

Minimal swelling so far, and I'm hoping it stays that way. Soreness mostly comes in waves but isn't too bad unless I try to open my mouth more than a crack. That'll make eating an interesting experience in these next few days...

All in all, though, it could have been a lot worse.
llywela: (Pros-wheresmybed)
Dental surgery went okay yesterday - thanks everyone who left good wishes. Much, much less traumatic than the last one! The tooth came out more easily than either my dentist or the consultant had anticipated, as well. I want Dr Ramee Whatever-his-last-name-was to look after my mouth always! I bet he wouldn't ever have dropped tooth fragments down my throat like the last chap did...

Having said that, I did fish a couple of fragments out of my mouth afterward, mind.

The whole sedation thing was a bust, though. They gave me temazepan, which was meant to make me really relaxed for the surgery, but even though they gave it an hour to take effect, it didn't do anything. I was no more relaxed going into the surgery than I had been when they gave me the pill. Then it finally kicked in a full hour after the surgery was over already! Fat lot of good that was!

Still, once it kicked in, it kicked in with a vengeance. I was in bed and asleep by 7pm! Unheard of! Slept for almost 12 hours straight, too, apart from a brief interlude at 2.30am when I got up to rinse blood out of my mouth.

Minimal swelling so far, and I'm hoping it stays that way. Soreness mostly comes in waves but isn't too bad unless I try to open my mouth more than a crack. That'll make eating an interesting experience in these next few days...

All in all, though, it could have been a lot worse.
llywela: (Default)
Got back home to my own flat this afternoon. Feels like forever since I've been here - my dad came to get me at about 7.30am last Tuesday when I phoned all upset about my face being so swollen and painful, and apart from a brief dash through on Thursday to collect some clothes and toiletries I haven't been home since.

So much needs doing around the place. It can all wait!

I bring with me a handful of get well cards I seem to have accumulated, an enormous bunch of flowers my sister sent down from Withyham, and a selection of soft food and ready meals to get me through the next few days.

Have been well taken care of for the last couple of days since I came out of hospital, my mum and dad being great, but have escaped just in time as Small has now come down with a heavy cold, possibly flu, and has a raging temperature, headache, all over aches and pains, sore throat, etc. I don't want to catch that. Probably will, though, as I spent most of this morning cwtching her on the settee. This made an interesting change from the Calico cat, who practically velcroed herself to me when I arrived on Thursday. If I was sitting, she was on my lap; if I was lying down, she was cwtched up alongside me. She knows she is my girl.

Now begins the slow process of working out what day it is and what to do next. I'm not taking my Sunday School class tomorrow, that's for sure. Probably won't go back to work on Monday, either, unless I've started firing on a lot more cylinders between now and then. Boss said not to rush, so I won't. Feels weird, though - I've been off since Monday afternoon. I've never, ever taken so much sick leave in my life!

Will probably go in on Tuesday. Cyril will be giving me a lift in anyway, so I won't have to walk. And I've got a dentist appointment I'm going to keep. I was due for a checkup when all this blew up that we never got around to in the end, and I can maybe talk to him about how I really don't like having such a big gap in my mouth...

I'll get used to it in the end, though. Have to, really.
llywela: (Default)
Got back home to my own flat this afternoon. Feels like forever since I've been here - my dad came to get me at about 7.30am last Tuesday when I phoned all upset about my face being so swollen and painful, and apart from a brief dash through on Thursday to collect some clothes and toiletries I haven't been home since.

So much needs doing around the place. It can all wait!

I bring with me a handful of get well cards I seem to have accumulated, an enormous bunch of flowers my sister sent down from Withyham, and a selection of soft food and ready meals to get me through the next few days.

Have been well taken care of for the last couple of days since I came out of hospital, my mum and dad being great, but have escaped just in time as Small has now come down with a heavy cold, possibly flu, and has a raging temperature, headache, all over aches and pains, sore throat, etc. I don't want to catch that. Probably will, though, as I spent most of this morning cwtching her on the settee. This made an interesting change from the Calico cat, who practically velcroed herself to me when I arrived on Thursday. If I was sitting, she was on my lap; if I was lying down, she was cwtched up alongside me. She knows she is my girl.

Now begins the slow process of working out what day it is and what to do next. I'm not taking my Sunday School class tomorrow, that's for sure. Probably won't go back to work on Monday, either, unless I've started firing on a lot more cylinders between now and then. Boss said not to rush, so I won't. Feels weird, though - I've been off since Monday afternoon. I've never, ever taken so much sick leave in my life!

Will probably go in on Tuesday. Cyril will be giving me a lift in anyway, so I won't have to walk. And I've got a dentist appointment I'm going to keep. I was due for a checkup when all this blew up that we never got around to in the end, and I can maybe talk to him about how I really don't like having such a big gap in my mouth...

I'll get used to it in the end, though. Have to, really.
llywela: (Default)
Finally back home (my parents' home, at least) after an unscheduled two day stint in hospital.

So much for keeping that wretched tooth. Monday night my face swelled up like a balloon. Tuesday morning I returned to the dentist for emergency treatment, and then again Tuesday evening when it was no better. That secind time he told me to go to Casualty. So, at 5.30pm Tuesday night I was in Casualty. By 7.30pm I was being admitted and having a central line inserted (took the doctor two very bloody attempts to get it in) to administer IV antibiotics. At that stage they were talking about general anaesthetic to remove the tooth and insert drains to relieve the infection. Yuck.

Having a central line in the elbow is very restrictive.

It is very difficult to sleep in hospital, what with the lights and bizarre noises all around, and the nurses waking you up all the time to administer drugs and check your vitals. They were all very nice, though.

Wednesday morning I was assessed again and then wheelchaired over to Max-Facs (the dental hospital) for treatment, via the subterranean passages where bits of the last series of Doctor Who were filmed. The porter who took me seemed to have worked there forever and was very chatty. Was then parked in a corridor and left to sit for what much have been an hour before they did anything with me. They decided that I was able to open my mouth wide enough to try extraction under local anaesthetic, and boy was that not fun. Not easy, either; the chap doing it had to get his supervisor to help in the end. And then I started gagging on the bits of broken tooth in my mouth. Yuck.

Back on the ward feeling worse than ever - in pain and nauseous. And, since the swelling was no better, wondering if it was really worth the procedure and loss of my tooth. Still hopeful of going home that night, at that stage, so was disappointed when the consultant decided that since I was there anyway and still running a temperature, they might as well keep me a second night and continue the IV antibiotics.

Started today by finally throwing up at 5am. More yuck. But the nurses came to the conclusion that taking anti-inflamatotories on a virtually empty stomach (hadn't eaten in days at that stage) was contributing to that. So I was finally able to start eating again, albeit soft food only.

And was finally allowed to go home. At length - the consultant said I could go at 9am, but I wasn't able to escape till nearer 2pm, clutching a bag full of drugs. Face is still swollen, but nowhere near as badly as it was. Feel grotty still, but miles better than this time yesterday. Boss has said not to rush back to work, which gives me some time to recover.

Am staying at my mum's for a couple of days. This computer is about to die, so won't use it much.
llywela: (Default)
Finally back home (my parents' home, at least) after an unscheduled two day stint in hospital.

So much for keeping that wretched tooth. Monday night my face swelled up like a balloon. Tuesday morning I returned to the dentist for emergency treatment, and then again Tuesday evening when it was no better. That secind time he told me to go to Casualty. So, at 5.30pm Tuesday night I was in Casualty. By 7.30pm I was being admitted and having a central line inserted (took the doctor two very bloody attempts to get it in) to administer IV antibiotics. At that stage they were talking about general anaesthetic to remove the tooth and insert drains to relieve the infection. Yuck.

Having a central line in the elbow is very restrictive.

It is very difficult to sleep in hospital, what with the lights and bizarre noises all around, and the nurses waking you up all the time to administer drugs and check your vitals. They were all very nice, though.

Wednesday morning I was assessed again and then wheelchaired over to Max-Facs (the dental hospital) for treatment, via the subterranean passages where bits of the last series of Doctor Who were filmed. The porter who took me seemed to have worked there forever and was very chatty. Was then parked in a corridor and left to sit for what much have been an hour before they did anything with me. They decided that I was able to open my mouth wide enough to try extraction under local anaesthetic, and boy was that not fun. Not easy, either; the chap doing it had to get his supervisor to help in the end. And then I started gagging on the bits of broken tooth in my mouth. Yuck.

Back on the ward feeling worse than ever - in pain and nauseous. And, since the swelling was no better, wondering if it was really worth the procedure and loss of my tooth. Still hopeful of going home that night, at that stage, so was disappointed when the consultant decided that since I was there anyway and still running a temperature, they might as well keep me a second night and continue the IV antibiotics.

Started today by finally throwing up at 5am. More yuck. But the nurses came to the conclusion that taking anti-inflamatotories on a virtually empty stomach (hadn't eaten in days at that stage) was contributing to that. So I was finally able to start eating again, albeit soft food only.

And was finally allowed to go home. At length - the consultant said I could go at 9am, but I wasn't able to escape till nearer 2pm, clutching a bag full of drugs. Face is still swollen, but nowhere near as badly as it was. Feel grotty still, but miles better than this time yesterday. Boss has said not to rush back to work, which gives me some time to recover.

Am staying at my mum's for a couple of days. This computer is about to die, so won't use it much.

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