So back to the story at hand.
One and a half weeks after I broke my wrist, I decided that it was time to wean myself off the pain killers. As I said, Codeine and I were not friends and I was feeling really sick in the stomach and so groggy all the time. So I stopped taking them, and all of the sudden on came the shakes and the sweating and then the cold shivers. I honestly thought that I was having withdrawls, which is ridiculous when you think about it because no one gets withdrawls after only being on Codeine tablets for one and a half weeks. But I knew something was wrong, and the fact that I couldn’t keep anything down and was constantly throwing up was also a bit of a give away. So I called my sister who is a nurse and told her how I was feeling and the first thing she asked was if my arm, under the cast, was hot. Well duh, it was the middle of summer and it was in plaster, of course it was hot! So I said Yes. She tells me to go straight to the hospital, because if my scar is hot, then there is a chance that there is an infection in the wound. Which apparently is not a good thing. So off I take myself to the hospital (mum to the rescue again) and there starts the most boring 14 hours of my life. To cut this long story short – after cutting off my cast, looking at the wound (which I also did and threw up when I saw it), they concluded it wasn’t infected. So they sent me off for X-Rays, and it turns out that I managed to get myself a nasty dose of pneumonia. Oh yay. The month just gets better and better. The hospital wants to keep me in overnight, and I refuse, and I made sure I got my way, and went home at about 1am in the morning. Again, I love my mum so much, because she hung around the whole time.
And then started the next 6 weeks of going back and forth between doctors, physio, hospitals and STILL NO WORK! I had to go to the doctor about twice a week, and he was doing blood tests and all sorts of crap, and then I get diagnosed with glandular fever, just to top the pneumonia off. And the whole time I’m telling work, I will be back soon, I will be back soon. I honestly thought I would be. Every day I would wake up thinking surely today, today it’s all going to get better. And I did have good days, but mostly they were all bad days in there.
The bright and shining spot of that time was that I was staying at Mr Squooshy’s place, with his mum, stepfather, brother and most importantly, his daughter – Miss Snotface (which I say with a lot of love and is not said in a negative way AT ALL Okay!!!). I was so worried about meeting Miss Snotface, because what if we didn’t get along. A girl only has one father, and a 12 year old pre-teenage girl, can be rather tricky with things like that.
Thankfully, we hit it off. And I got to spend lots of time with Mr Squooshy and Miss Snotface, time which I wouldn’t have got to spend with them both if I had had to go to work. So there was a wee bit of guilt there, but not too much. This time also made me realise how lucky I was to have Mr Squooshy. He was my rock during that time. When my wrist was first broken, he moved into my place and looked after me. He kept me company, he listened to me rant and rave about how unfair life was, he listened to my mindless Codeine fuelled ravings and most importantly, he held me while I cried over the fact that I could barely even brush my teeth. I owe him so much for his patience with me, because I know how much of a sook and whiner I am when I am sick, and this was worse than the worst of what I had been. And he still hung around. And he still does.
But more on that next time…..