Blood, sweat & tears

Sorry I’ve been quiet dear readers, I’ve been doing all that new home owner stuff, painting, decorating, nearly dying, schlepping furniture. Oh yeah, that nearly dying thing… Well the good news is I no longer have any tonsils, the bad news is that a day procedure that should have seen me in and out in about 6 hours ended up being a week long stay in hospital.

Every-thing’s grand going into theatre, though the anaesthetist had a test of his skill finding a vein to plug in to, but no bother, and when the surgeon starts, everything looks good, left tonsil out, right tonsil out, small problem a rather large abscess behind my right tonsil (probably the reason I’ve had almost constant tonsillitis). Surgeon decided it has to come out and slices away, it’s a bit bigger than he thought and doesn’t stop bleeding, until I loose 3 units of blood, after 2 units they send a sample down to type and cross-match for a transfusion. The lab kick up a fuss as someone got mixed up and the date of birth on the sample of blood doesn’t match my files. Luckily my kick-ass surgeon gets the bleeding under control and they decide to just keep me on fluids. I wake up 3 hours later than expected, covered in bruises and dressings on my arms, wrists, hands, ankles and feet from where they tried to get lines in and kept failing miserably. The nurse in recovery tells what happened, I’m still off my tits from the general anaesthetic, so the fact I almost died doesn’t really sink in. The nurse helps me put my piercings back in, given the trouble we have with my Munroe (it takes us about 15 minutes between us) I comment “It’s a good job I don’t still have my clit pierced!” “I’d have fun explaining that to my lady wife.” He replies, we had a right good giggle and flirt though, general anaesthetic obviously lowers my inhibitions.

This is all followed by an over-night stay in hospital, after which all is declared well & I’m sent away home, in less than 24 hours I’m back in hospital, my throat is so swollen I can’t swallow my own saliva and I’m making a very fun rattling noise when I breathe. Back to hospital I’m whisked, to spend the next day being prodded by ENT doctors and hooked up to drips. I can’t swallow still so I get my pain killers and a course of anti-biotics intravenously. A few days into my second hospital stay I start to cough rather spectacularly, so spectacularly in-fact half of my throat gets coughed up. I dare anyone to have done a better Exorcist impersonation. I was literally projectile coughing blood, lots and lots of blood, and chunks of dressing and throat. It certainly woke the nurses at the end of their night-shifts up at 6am. It also seriously impressed the consultant when I had a second bout in the afternoon, I coughed so hard I burst the stitches my surgeon had so meticulously patched up my ravaged throat with, hence the excessive amounts of blood.

They keep me in for another few days, by which point I’m going a bit mad stuck in a general sort of assessment ward, everyone else is whisked off to various specialist wards, while I’m stuck there as they haven’t quite decided what to do with me yet. I ask when I’ll be discharged, in a few days they say, another bleed like the one I had and I’d need to go back into theatre. This does not impress me, I can feel the obstructions that had made me cough in the first place are gone (it was the dressings), I’m still coughing up bits of throat that have scabbed over, but that’s par for the course post-tonsillectomy. The swelling in my throat has all but disappeared thanks to the anti-biotics, I decide against much medical advice to discharge myself from hospital, being there is driving me mad, it’s not good for my mental health, or my IBS. Oh and the worst thing about having your tonsils out; I can’t purr or roll my r’s any more! I’m devastated. Apparently I will learn to do these things again, I am not convinced or overly impressed…

I spend the next few weeks living off ice-cream, coughing up gunk and feeling sorry for myself. My throat is almost healed now, though it and my nose aren’t really sure what to do with themselves sans tonsils, I have be careful drinking as if I take too big a gulp half of it goes up my nose and I end up dribbling my drink from my nostrils. It looks oh-so sexy. I also can’t blow or suck very well (no sniggering at the back) I can’t breath just through my mouth, I end up breathing through my nose as-well. So if, for instance, I’m drinking a drink with a straw I end up snorting and making a delightful pig-like noise if I’m not careful. Having a tonsillectomy does wonders for your self-image I tell you.

I do have more stories to tell but alas the removal men are here tomorrow and I need to be up early, once I’m finally moved in I should be able able to update more, and despite my brush with death I’m rather chipper at the moment as one part of my life at least seems to be sorting itself out, namely the house.



2 long

So it’s been 2 months since my last post, the main reasons being I’ve been very down and really quite ill, there have been more than a dozen times I’ve thought I should write something, but then realised aside from “meh” I had absolutely nothing to say.

Over the past few weeks my health, both mental and physical has been improving, though I’ve been stuck with yet another bout of tonsillitis. There is a bright side to this, it’s the fifth time I’ve had tonsillitis in the past 12 months, so I’m finally getting a referral to the ENT, and hopefully, getting my tonsils out. The past 2 times I’ve had tonsillitis I’ve had to visit hospital and it knocks me for six for a good month or so, the prospect of finally something being done about it has cheered me up a lot.

The escorting was put on hold while I was very ill, but I’ve picked it up again and it’s been going pretty well, I had my first total ass-hole of a client, who is now black-listed in terms of myself and I’ve spread the word to other girls as much as I’m able. Aside from him, I’ve had some great guys, most of them I wonder why on earth they are using me, but for whatever reason it pays my bills!

I’ve not attended university at all this term, thanks to being so damn ill, however, they’ve agreed to let me go down to part time, so I’m hoping next year is better. I still have exams to revise for so I’m going to start cracking on with that.

And the biggest news has been left until the end… I’ve bought a house! Exciting stuff and it makes me a responsible adult by-proxy which is very weird. I have also adopted a moggie to live with me and my dog, and my lodger. He’s currently staying with me in my rented accommodation as the shelter couldn’t hold him any longer, we just haven’t informed my landlord and my house-mate is happy to keep quiet. Hopefully me, and the moggie, will be able to move soon once all the paperwork is sorted. Said moggie is currently stretched across my bed snoring, and I’m not quite sure how I’ll manage to fit in there.

I know this has been a bit of a boring post, but I just wanted to do a brief catch-up, let you know I’m not dead and hopefully I’ll be writing more fun stuff soon!

Good Vibrations

Recently a friend of mine, well, prospective shag really, told me that my constant talk of being ill and in pain was “a bit of a turn off”, others have also commented on the fact that I’m increasingly negative. Now while this upset me, and it did, a lot*, it also got me thinking.

I don’t want to turn men off, and I don’t want to turn people off in general. My one defence is at the moment I am constantly ill and in pain, along with being clinically depressed most folk would be a little negative. That doesn’t mean I have to be though.

When my prospective shag told me the above, he also just cancelled on me, ironically he wasn’t feeling too hot. So I decided every time something crap happened, like a cancelled date or whatever, I’m going to look at the situation and decide what’s positive about it.**

However lame my positive side is, that’s what I’m going to (try to) focus on. I’m not going to become one of these scary Ned Flanders types who is constantly happy about everything and makes you back away slowly from the cazed gleam in their eye. But I am going to make a change.

I do hate my job, and I do hate my lack of social life, but I’m trying to change both of these aspects of my life, and doing it with a slightly less pessimistic outlook will, I hope, bring change sooner and more smoothly than otherwise. And to be frank anything that gets in the way of me getting laid just aint good enough.

So thank you to my prospective shag for giving me a kick up the arse when I needed it, I think that evens out the karma for it making me cry.

Ha! y’all thought this would be a post about sex toys didn’t you!

*For those of you not familiar with my mental health issues, I have several manic and depressive episodes a day, guess what kind this one set off…

**Geekily my positive side to a cancelled date was more time to play WoW before the “love is in the air” festival finished so I could grab more special goodies.

Faint heart

So as you all know I have Goblinitis and investigations are still on-going as to what the cause is*. But Friday brought something different.

On Thursday I left work early as I was feeling absolutely pants, I did my core hours then went home. I felt faint, nauseas and sleepy, I collapsed in bed as soon as I got home and slept through ’til the next morning. I woke up in the wee hours, about 5 am feeling even worse than the previous day, to add to this my goblin was making himself known by stabbing me from the inside. I started to get out of bed to get my pain killers from across the room and somehow ended up in a crumpled heap on the floor, I don’t know if I just fell, as my limbs felt like jelly or passed out briefly. But anyway I was on the floor and not going anywhere, most certainly not in the direction of my drugs, I started to cry as I pulled and shuffled my way back into bed. I was going to be in a lot of pain for the foreseeable future and there was nothing I could do about it, I just lay on my side and waited for either one of my parents to come in or for my body to do what I told it to.

I heard my parents wake up about 6, I called out but my voice wasn’t strong enough to be heard over the trampling up and down stairs and the dog wanting to be let out. So I gave up, eventually my mum came in to see how I was, and I got her to get my pain killers and a drink and gulped them down, holding the glass in two shaking hands. Obviously I wasn’t going into work today, as a wave of lightheadedness subsided I phoned work blethered something about being ill then fell asleep almost immediately.

I woke up again I don’t know what time, but it was still dark. I kept seeing flashing lights with my eyes open and closed, and I felt like I was on a new plane of conciousness, one I’d never been on before. It was like I wasn’t in my body, like I was watching myself. It wasn’t like being high, I’ve experienced that with weed and pethidine, they make me feel floaty but I’m still there, I’m still in control. This was different, I could feel everything that was happening it just felt removed from me. I twitch I have done ever since I started on Sertraline, not much just a few times a day a random muscle will spasm once and that’s it. But as I was lying there outside myself every single muscle twitched, then again and again, they kept on going I’m not sure how long for and I remember thinking as I slipped into unconsciousness as my body stopped moving “This isn’t right, remember this”.

I spent all day sliding in and out of conciousness, dealing with the same waves of light-headedness when I was awake. Sometimes I was fully compos mentis and could and did carry on a conversation. Other times I was looking blearily around the room wondering where I was and having the flashing lights all over my view, again with my eyes both open and closed. I would wake up with a jump, as if I’d been dreaming of falling, but I never was dreaming of falling just my entire body twitching for no apparent reason.

It was the afternoon before I could get out of bed, and struggle to the toilet, it wasn’t until the evening that my brain was functioning enough for me to remember everything and put all the pieces together. I’d had a seizure. I texted a medical friend, who suspected a reaction to the tramadol and told me to go the doctor and describe my symptoms exactly the was I had to him.

The next 2 days I was still feeling faint and had to keep going for a lie down but I felt about a million times better than I had on Friday. As I hadn’t realised what had happened until the evening and I seemed to be getting better I decided it was best to wait to see my own GP as opposed to going to a+e or the OOH doctor. From previous experience they would just tell me to see my GP on Monday anyway.

So today I saw a doctor, I wouldn’t normally see him, but I thought my symptoms were serious enough to warrant an appointment asap and not wait to see my usual GP. I went to see the doctor described my symptoms as above and his reaction was as follows:

Doctor: *checks my BP & pulse (both are normal)* It’s the tramadol it’s an opiate they make you feel like this

Me: Well I’ve been on pethidine, and been high on that, this didn’t feel the same at all.

Doctor: Well these symptoms can also be caused by stress, so just tell yourself you’re not physically ill and get over it.

Me: *look of disbelief*

Doctor: Take less of the tramadol, it can cause these symptoms along with your anti-depressants.

Me: Well is there an alternative I can take?

Doctor: Co-Codamol

Me: I’ve had that it did nothing.

That wasbasically it. I’m not medically qualified but I think someone having a fit, is worthy of a little investigation. If it is the tramadol then why not give me an alternative? Why was I prescribed it in the first place if it commonly reacts with the type of anti-depressant I’m on? And telling me to just get over my stress and that it’s all in my head, shouldn’t be said to anyone, never mind someone battling mental health problems. I came home in tears, and explained everything to my dad, he kindly went over and booked me an appointment with the doctor I usually see for Wednesday. If any medical types read this let me know your opinion please, it’s not just me is it?

* The best bet at the moment is IBS in an otherwise healthy gut or something to do with my lady bits (I’ve been referred to obgyn for more tests)


Imagine there is a goblin inside you, sitting resting his back on your stomach. He’s about a foot tall with really long arms,  green skin and big teeth.

Artists (i.e. my) impression of the cause of Goblinitis



Now Goblins are pretty lazy, so most of the time he’s asleep, but every now and then he wakes up, when you’re stressed your increased heartbeat wakes him up too.  When he’s sleeping you wouldn’t even know he was there, but when he wakes up he wants to play*, and goblin’s ideas of fun isn’t the same of ours.  What he does for fun is tie your organs and tubes together, a favourite is a kidney and an ovary, or wrapping your fallopian tubes around your womb then knotting you ovary’s together. The goblin is also hungry so he knaws at your insides, squeezing and clawing you to soften you up a bit. He can be awake and hungry anything from 2 hours to 2 days.

I have goblinitis, except the doctors don’t seem to know why I have a goblin. I’ve had so many blood tests recently I have track marks and look like a heroin addict. I’ve been refereed to dieticians, surgeons and had what seems like a billion scans and xrays. I’ve been singed off work for 2 weeks and I’m due to go back on Monday, however, just thinking about it wakes the goblin up again.

* He also stretches out to his full size making you look and feel like you’re about to give birth.

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