These Boots

Ok here is the mess that ensued between the 17th and 19th January.

On Saturday the 17th of January I woke up and discovered that I was not able to keep ANYTHING down.  This included all food and fluids, even water, which upto this point had been my only way of getting anything into me.  Being Saturday I was unable to contact my consultant at the hospital so I had to wait it out, all weekend with no food and only minimal fluid which I eventually managed to swallow after much discomfort.  As you can imagine I was not flowing with energy, but I do believe that my body had become acustomed to running on so little fuel up to this point, that I was in a better condition than someone who had suddenly become unable to eat.

On Monday morning I got up and went to work leaving my dad with strict instructions to contact my consultant.  At around midday I recieved a phonecall from him on my works landline, he simply said, ‘they want you in, they have a cancellation’  he then continued to inform me that it was the consultant himself who had decided I HAD to be hospitalised and the bed manager was frantically trying to find a bed for me.  I went to Andy, my boss, and informed him of what was going on.  He was wonderful about it all and asked me if I needed to go and prepare, I declined and continued to work.  My dad picked me up in my grandma’s car and we decided it was unlikely I would go into hospital at this late hour so I should try and eat something.  It was decided that I should have something I really wanted to try and encourage me to force the food down.  We settled on crumpets with Marmite and stopped off at Morrisons on the way home.  Literally one minute away from my house I got a phone call on my mobile.  It was the bed manager at St. James Hospital, Leeds.  Before speaking to me she had apparently phoned home, where my grandma was, and had been told I wasn’t in yet, my dad was picking me up from work.  This slightly more authorative pencil pusher then questioned whether or not I needed to be in hospital since I had managed to go to work.  To which I, in a slightly annoyed mannor, informed the woman that I hadn’t eaten in three days and had only managed minimal fluids so YES I BLOODY DID NEED TO BE IN HOSPITAL TONIGHT!!!!!  She then informed me I had a bed waiting for me on ward 64 in St. James Hospital.  So I never got to try for my crumpets, we popped home to collecting some things and inform grandma and then made our way to the hospital.  And so the hospital saga begins.