… if not gruesome day I’ve had today. It’s been easily the worst day that I have ever had in my life and I’m really glad that it’s over.
Yesterday, there was no sign or suggestion of any of this. I’d finished everything that needed finishing by 21:30, and so, a couple of minutes later, I went to bed, hoping for a really good, stress-free night.
However, in that, I was quite disappointed. Although I went to sleep shortly after going to bed, it was only the sleep of a moment. I was soon awake, and wide-awake too, and there I stayed for the rest of the night. Nothing seemed to be able to help me go back to sleep, although I actually found a way of lying that actually stopped me coughing. It was quite uncomfortable, but it worked fine until I rolled over subsconsciously into another position.
Eventually, at long last, the alarm went off but it took an age for me to rise to my feet and head for the bathroom.
This morning, I’m supposed to be à jeun – in famine mode. Even a glass of water is banned, but I can take some water to wash down the medication, so I prepared today’s dosage, with the relaxing pill amongst them, ready to take when the driver arrives to take me to Avranches.
It was the same driver as yesterday evening – the Belgian girl – and she’s great fun. But today was much more serious. When we arrived at the hospital, she found a wheelchair for me, and then after registration, she pushed me up to the third floor and my appointment with doom.
We had to wait ten minutes for someone to come to see me, and at that point, my driver said “goodbye”. She told me that she’d be thinking of me and that she’d send me some healing vibes, which was nice, and then she patted me on the shoulder as she left, which was sweet of her.
In the operating theatre, or whatever you call it, I asked if there was gas available. The doctor told me that this examination was not compulsory and that I could opt out of it if I liked. I told him that I knew that, but I can’t go on like this, with all of this coughing.
The doctor made me lie flat on the bed with my head tilted back. Two nurses held me by the hands, but they were … welll … I wouldn’t like to meet them on my own up a dark alley late at night. You could tell by the force that they were using that they were intent on stopping my arms flailing around as I had a panic attack.
The doctor poured some anaesthetic down my nose to deaden it, and it overflowed into my mouth. One of the nurses told me to swallow it – she said that it would anaesthetise my throat.
And then they began.
Despite the anaesthetic, I don’t want to relive those moments again. And neither do I want to relive the moments when they withdrew it. The doctor told me that he’d cleaned my bronchii, which I could tell that he had. He said that he didn’t recall seeing anyone as clogged up as me
They had asked me if I lived alone as I came in, and as the answer was in the affirmative, I had to wait in the waiting room for an hour before they called the taxi to take me home.
The driver eventually appeared, pushing a wheelchair. I’d asked my Belgian friend to warn the next driver that a wheelchair would be necessary. He took me downstairs and pushed me to the car, where someone was already installed inside. Consequently, we had to go via Mont Perrett to drop him off on the way home.
As my faithful cleaner wasn’t there today, I asked the driver if he would accompany me to the apartment. He took the car round to the back of the building where the distance is shorter and the floor is much better, and then went into my bedroom for the office chair. He sat me on it and then pushed me all the way into the bedroom before leaving.
Once he’d gone, I crashed out immediately.
My faithful cleaner awoke me when she came in later to do her stuff, and I managed to make my breakfast at that point.
However, once she’d gone, I crashed out yet again and didn’t awaken until 18:00. And at that point, I was practically unable to function. Consequently, I just posted a terse notes on my blog page and that was that. I climbed into bed and went straight to sleep. What a horrible day.
But here’s a thing – with your vision, you are normally moving your head and all of the frames in your little “film” merge together to make an evenly flowing “film”. Since this morning, it’s as if my vision is sticking and then suddenly, the image seems to jump a few frames to catch up. It’s a totally weird situation.
But before I go, seeing as we have been talking about vision problems … "well, one of us has" – ed … someone went to the doctor’s to complain about their vision.
"I’m seeing nothing but spots before my eyes, doctor. Can you help?" he asked.
"You really need to see an opthalmist, you know." replied the doctor. "Have you seen one yet?"
"No, doctor. Just spots!"
