It all began last Tuesday lunchtime. There I was doing my thing and getting ready for work feeling my normal chipper self and then from out of nowhere I sneezed, and then I sneezed again and again. I was off. I was coming down with a cold and that’s they way it went at work. I did everything I could think of Sudafed, Night Nurse (Ny-Quill for the Americans amongst my three readers) and Balm coated tissues for my widdle noseywosey. I struggled through work gaining sympathy from all the ladies around me for not being a typical MAN and claiming I was dying.. I was just getting on with business.
All that changed on Wednesday. I woke up, and I was freaking dying. My head hurt, my nose was a mass sore of sandpapered skin and my chest was as raspy as Clint Eastwoods ball sac on shave day. The new work through it all man in me was ten feet smaller than he was yesterday but the realist in me said that I had to go to work because if I didn’t the ladies who were showing sympathy yesterday would be raining bloody man comments when I went back. I wasn’t having that. I got ready I slugged Night Nurse before I went to work and loaded up on Balm Coated Tissues for my pulp of a nose.
I was at work an hour and the customers were complaining that my snot was giving them a headache and I really should have stayed home and rested. I couldn’t believe it.. I was trying to break the Typical Man mould and women (the customers) were giving me grief and telling me I should have stayed home… can’t win for trying.
Any who I get sent home as there is nothing for me to do other than be on the phone and be moaned at. The only thing that hadn’t hit me with this wonder cold was the cough (it still hasn’t to any great shakes) but my cheast was starting to get more and more raspy Lou Rawls sounded more clear than me. I was finding it harder and harder to breathe and in the end (OK I was a Typical Man and refused to go to the Dr) I went to see the practice Nurse at my local surgery.
I don’t think she liked me. She kept complaining about my smoking. I know I shouldn’t smoke but I need something else to do while I am surfing the internet looking for pictures of ladies with Big …… Hands.
In the end it turns out I have a pretty wicked chest infection that’s gonna take 8 little steroid tabs a day to kill. Apparently most people start at 8 and work down each day.. not me though I am on 8 a day. This has persuaded me to cut down on teh smoking and the surfing for a few days. I have tried to stop alltogether.. but I pay so much for my internet and I hate to waste it.
Howdedoo neighbours… Yet again I seem to be left playing catch up when the world changes. Things around here have been of on a tangent recently and I haven’t been able to post… now I catch you all up with the gory story.
When I started back to work during May this year, I was going great, my Bi Polar was kinda under control I was feeling reasonably good working in an office with no air con… only one thing nagged me and that was a smallish lump at the bottom of my back that kinda hurt when I sat down.
Now having Cystic Acne I get used to these little lumps popping up now and then and try to just get on with things and forget them. But after two weeks this sucker is getting bigger and not making any attempts at leaving… so I show it to my good lady wife (she gets all the good jobs you know..lol). She too thought it was just another lump and we took care of it the same way we take care of all the others… keep it clean and try and burst the bastard when ever we think it’s not looking.
Well being the stubborn bastard that I am, after three and a half weeks I start refusing the talk of my going to see doctors. I will not see another doctor about these lumps after being put on that Ro-Accutane bullshit and having it do nothing but drying me out like a Florida retiree on an august Sunday afternoon trip to the solarium.
I struggle through the week and finally give in and get dragged by horses and roman slave beaters to the doctors and get told that it’s nasty but you just need Anti Biotics and LUCK…. FUCKING LUCK. Apparently I was on the cusp of self healing or becoming deathly ill ( I think that’s what he said.. it could have been something less dramatic… i dunno). Anywho I go home and start taking the pills.. and lo what happens… the fucking thing starts to get fucking bigger and it’s now leaking again.. oh lordy I’m having fun now.
Anyway… I went to work Monday thinking that the anti b’s would start kicking in and doing the right thing for me. I get home after work and the daily ritual of looking at my butt begins.. and no one likes the look of it so the decision is made.. YOU ARE GOING TO THE HOSPITAL… yay… FUCK.
(By the way there are pictures coming soon..lol.. they are real fun too look at)
It’s a family outing when I go to the hospital.. Mum and wife in tow we head for Kettering General in what can only be described as a cab ride from hell. The driver hit every pot hole and speed bump he could.. not only was my head hitting the roof of the black cab but my arse was hitting the badly upholstered seat twice as hard (gravity sucks).
Once at the hospital I got out of the cab and stood upright only to feel that warm feeling on my legs… said growth and been exploded by the Michael Schumacher of Corby. I made a beeline for the bathrooms whilst my mother and wife tried to explain what was going on and what had happened. I got myself cleaned up as best I could. It was ugly. I did have some spare clothes with me as I had a sneaking feeling that I may not be home that evening… wooo psychic me.
After a bit of standing around and seeing one nurse and explaining that I didn’t want to sit down due to the fact I would leave a bigger trail that Brian the Snail from The Magic Roundabout. I explained to her what the problem was and that I was now in quite a bit of pain and discomfort and that I would be waiting outside for my next call. Which surprisingly came pretty quickly. A nice Irish nurse called me into his treatment room and in I went.. accompanied by Linda (Hey I needed someone lucid in there.. I had a hole in my ass that wasn’t there an hour ago.. i was kinda freaking out… and beside she is nosy like that..LOL).
I felt like I had to apologise to the nurse as the shit flowing out of me stank the room to high hell and back.. he didn’t seem to mind said he had smelt much worse. I dropped my jeans and laid on the bed and apologized again for the smell. He started cleaning me up in between small talk…
Nurse: It’s a big Pilonadal Cyst by the looks of things
Me: Oh Yeah? I saw one of those on the Internet
Nurse: Fuck me another homemade Doctor
Me: No not really I was looking for fun ages ago
Whilst he was cleaning me up he put the dirty swabs on a tray about 6 inches away from my face. I decided to drop a hint..
Me: I really am sorry for the smell
Nurse: Stop worrying I have really smelt a lot worse.
Me: I haven’t
Nurse: Well when you have been doing this job for a while you get used to things like this.
Me: (turning a slight shade of “here come my guts”) Any chance you could move this stuff from in front of me I feel sick.
Anywho he moved the offending matter and then excused himself as he wanted some surgeon to take a look at the extent of the infection and get a second opinion. It was at that point I knew I wasn’t going to be sleeping in my own bed tonight.
The surgeon came in.. I didn’t see his person but I saw his Shadow take over the room and felt like I was being invaded my something from Lord of the rings. He clasped my buttocks freshly swabbed like the deck of a tall ship and stuck a finger in my new hole. I launched myself from a prone position to a OH MY FUCKING LORD DO THAT AGAIN AND I’LL KNOCK YOUR BLOODY TEETH OUT YOUR HEAD position. He didn’t apologise… I’ll get that bastard I thought. They moved me to a side room and asked me to wait while the discussed my case.
About an hour later another Doctor came to the little cupboard room they left us in and said that I would need surgery to remove the offending infected tissue from my back. Wooooo Go me.
Well that was it. I was admitted to hospital that night and I spent the weirdest night listening to Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon and White Stripes new one. I didn’t fall asleep until around 5.30am and they came around to wake me up at 6.30am to take my obs.. great news I was having problems with the oxygenation in my blood.. so they gave me a O2 mask and told me to keep it on. I tried but it kept falling off when I smoked a cigarette.
A nice chap arrived at about 11.30 to collect me to go see the nice surgeon who was going to mutilate me he threw me on the bed and took me for a ride and that folks is pretty much all I remember. I remember looking at the anesthetic dude pumping white junk into my arm and the next thingI knew I was awake on a ward feeling no pain and thinking it was all pretty much like Disneyland. Morphine and me could be great friends if I could afford it.
As i say.. I don’t remember a great deal after my ride with the orderly, but that night I didn’t sleep to well and spent most of the night outside smoking and talking to the other smokers who were in hospital trying to be medically saved by being allowed outside to smoke.. ahhh the memories.
They let me home the next day and I now have to have the wound cleaned and dressed every day… (Linda loves me she really does)
I was gonna go into thePink Floyd live 8 thing in this post but I’ll save that for ya for another time.
Until Next Time…
Oh wait… the photos Muhahahahahahaha.. these are pretty graphic so those with a weak stomach PLEASE AVOID.. don’t say I didn’t warn ya
Day two of my week off and today is the first day that I have to go see a doctor of some kind. Today it’s the ENT specialist about the nerve twitches I have been getting in my face. Some would have you think that it’s not a big deal, but after 12 or so hours of a twitching face I was ready to rip the fucker off I tell ya. I doubt that there is anything seriously wrong. But I would really like to get this shit sorted. (more…)