A lot has happened lately, some good, some bad, some horrible.
Those phone calls in the middle of the night never tend to be phone calls you want. Especially when the news is that one of the most beautiful kids from one of the most beautiful families I've ever known is no more. Truly a case of stupidity and indifference on the behalf of the woman who ended Nae's 15 year young life. Becka I still wanna be your lessie lover if I ever do turn. In the mean time my thoughts are with you and those gorgeous boys. We miss you all. P.S. I still have your sanity here in the box you left it in. I figure I'm best to hold on to it for a little longer. Sanity and now for you... it just won't work. If you need anything I'm here. Even if it's just to talk shit.
I got a promotion... still not sure that I wanted it but seeing as I'm not at work at the moment it's the least of my worries.
Speaking of not being at work.. had a fantastic couple of weekends with Smiley down from Brisbane. One truly drunken debaucherous night involving much Smirnoff/Stolichnaya/Chambord/Jansz sparkling.... think that's all but who would know... certainly not us. Also had a lovely day at the Taste of the Huon festival. Who wouldn't like a day sipping newly released boutique pink Sparkling wine and trying local gourmet delights sitting on the grass listening to (craptacular) live music.
Smiley headed back north on Monday and Skaed being the gourmand he is demanded a return to the Taste... who am I to refuse. Another day repeated per the previous but without the shithouse music.
Tuesday most things started to turn to shit. I got up, I couldn't see properly. Figured I was just still tired so sucked it up and went to work. And got dizzier and dizzier and dizzier and within an hour had been asked if I was drunk.... my only reply was 'I wish I was coz then I'd understand'. Skaed collected me and took me home around 10am.
By 1pm he said my left eye was closing... I said he was nuts.
3.30pm we headed for the doctors... I looked at my eyes in the mirror in the car and quietly swore that he was right.... again.
Doctor didn't like it either, made me an appointment at the opthamologist for Thursday.
Stayed home waiting for this next bloody appointment impatiently stumbling about with one eye closed. Opthamologist didn't like it either (you can imagine how unpopular I'm feeling by now) and write's me up a letter to the Royal Hobart Hospital addressed to a Neurosurgeon... what the
Toddled off to A&E thinking 'be there for a few hours... a few tests... sweet.. then I'll know the answer to what the'
More fool me. 5 hours later we are ushered through the doors of no return (after being highly amused by the rantings of a few people of questionable mental processes..... far more questionable than even mine.. the front runner being the guy who came in, demanded to know whether there was a doctor in the house.... and that he wanted to sue.... and oh where was he again.... he later appeared with 4 cops... then they took him back across to the cop shop for a nice lay down instead) . Anyhoo. A couple of nurses, a few doctors, some blood tests, some piss in a jar (and of course on your fingers... sometimes I think having a knob would be handy) tests it looks like a long long night. There's talk of possible aneurisms in my head... cat scans... angiograms... mri's... tho nothing seems to happen. Seeing as escape wasn't possible Skaed kindly toddled home to grab me a bag of something resembling underwear and clothing. Which of course spurred action. First of all I got a bed in A&E, thank GOD. Plastic chairs for 6 hours... I think my spine is still damaged. Then off for a Cat Scan... no huge fear, bung my head in a noisy donut, then flush me with stuff that makes me feel like I've wet myself... all clear. Still living in A&E.
Finally they find me a real bed in the Neuro nutjob ward (well the nutjob part was of course after I, the pirate wench arrived). High dependency ward (for fear of exploding aneurisms). Hourly observations with all the fun questions like who, what where, which wanker is controlling the country this week. Also the obligatory million needle pricks (my veins like to hide, they don't want me to be a junkie). Blood pressure, temperature, then opening my pirate eye to shine torches in it (instant headache every time). Lather rinse repeat. Trying to catch miniscule skerricks of sleep in between the poor dude across the ward from me who sounds like he's already gurgling away what's left of his life (even worse no one came to talk to him or give him love or even hold his hand).
30 hours (and a little stress, yes) later I'm going in for an angiogram. Nobody told me when I signed up for this gig that I would be repeating myself like a parrot (I'll get to the parrot) while multiple people poked at my groin... when it's my eyeball that's rooted. So all nicely (if somewhat lopsidedly shaved... you'd think they'd at least do both sides) the nurses and doctors all have a good poke around finding a likely artery to bung a needle into. Then after half an hour of feeding thingies up my arteries... deep breath, don't swallow, don't breathe, don't move (which picture taking seems to take an eternity when you've been living on nothing but saline and pain killers and some other random drug which made me throw up several times). Once again... clear.
Heaven... I can now eat again. Except it's so damn hot my jelly has turned to slop and the hot food has turned cold and the pukey drugs are still making my stomach churn. A little anti-puke drugs in the drip and an hour plus the BEST Lemonade icy pole ever I felt human again (if a little intimidated by another night listening to a man drown in his own lungs).
Nirvana... I'm moving to another ward... where I only have to be woken up at 2am and 6am.. and the other person in there speaks and is almost ready to go home (tho I'm sure she was eyeing me off... unless she thought I was winking at her... could be my fault after all).
Skaed has even managed to find a parrot for his pirate wench. His vocabulary is amazing.
'Show us your tits'
'Polly wants a f*&^ing cracker, Polly wants a f*&^ing cracker,Give polly a f*&^ing cracker,'
etc etc Much MUCH better than flowers.
Shortcut to today. The head of neurology said I could have weekend leave (wait... isn't that what they give the lunatics...oh well). After dinner tonight I'm back on the ward, ready to stop eating/drinking again. More blood tests and an MRI in the morning. Fingers crossed they'll say I have a gammy 3rd cranial nerve but it's just randomly inflamed and a course of steroids might set it to rights... or else I may be stuck there even longer.
In the mean time this pirate wench is signing off to post only at random once again.
Mwah