So, like I said last blog post: I was in remission confirmed by my specialist two weeks ago. Well…. Around midnight (23rd July) I call my super friend and her sidekick, while I’m sobbing in pain, and I feel so guilty about ruining their evening, but I really knew I needed to go to the hospital. I couldn’t walk properly, my right knee was my worst enemy. I mean, it took me 25 minutes to get myself into bed, followed by a 15 minute weeping session in agony and 5 minutes of getting the courage to stand up like a “normal” human. I felt like I was 20 going on 200. This was followed by a ten minute vomit session because the pain was too much to cope with.
My friend calls a taxi to head to A&E. Of course it wasn’t a low level taxi that arrives, it is a sliding door 7 passenger, oh you have to climb in me awkwardly taxi. Just my luck, right? Yep.
At A&E sign in I’m seen to very quickly, in fact I was that person who skipped the long A&E waiting list: I have severe swelling and pain in my right knee. It feels like somebody is trying to prise off my kneecap and it is most unpleasant. I’m trying to keep my spirits up by cracking a few jokes waiting to be seen and admitted by a nurse, but I think my friends saw a different side to me: the indefinite agony.
I had the most lovely nurse, I felt at ease. She was bubbly, polite and considerate to my pain. She chatted away with me to make me feel comfortable, or at least as comfortable as I could be. She ran through questions about my pain and lupus and ran a routine checkup. My super friend came over and the nurse dropped a bombshell. “I’m going to put a cannula in, I need to take some bloods and give you some steroids quickly”.
That’s an object that extracts blood and stays in my arm. Do. Not. Like. The horror definitely across my face as my super friend convinced me I’d be find and its the best option. I grit my teeth and deal with it as super friend and lovely nurse talk about my recent travels in America.
Beth laid down.
Do you feel better?
Can you bend your leg?
Oh please don’t make me do that I’ll cry….
Right: here are drugs…
*insert joke here about happy drug cocktail*
Nurse said something like this: “I know it’s bad, but I bet you’ve pushed yourself and done things you wouldn’t have done without it” and you know what, she’s right. I’m strangely confident about talking to people about my health. I’m honest about it, in fact rather than people staring at my rash or at me limping I genuinely love when people outright ask me what’s wrong with me because I’ve raised awareness of lupus again, each time somebody asks. I’ve educated somebody on my illness.
I push myself to achieve things while I can, it’s not about “I’m sick I can’t do that” it’s “I’m sick, I can do that at my own pace”.
I like to prove myself and people who doubt me wrong when I’m being grumpy Beth and convince myself I’m poorly and that’s that.
….I’m taken to medical assessment ward number two. Super friend and sidekick are exhausted, and I’m not feeling the drugs. Admittedly I am giggling a lot, singing ‘The Duck Song’ and feeling pretty spaced out. I wanted to stop, I couldn’t stop! Drug round number two came after I’ve been prodded and poked: Prednisolone 30mg, woohoo.
(If you have no idea what The Duck Song is, I urge you to carry reading before it ruins your life and gets in your head. But, if you’re like me and live by your own rules, click here.)
Yeah, still in pain…
I’m visited by various doctors and nurses, all who ask routine questions and are lovely. It’s about 3am now. I feel bad my friends are exhausted and I’ve ruined their night a bit, so I tell them they can leave to sleep and I’ll be ok. I’m in safe hands. I’m good.
Goodbye super friend and sidekick! I’m so grateful for you.
Still in pain: Morphine (this stuffs great. What’s pain?)
I’m taken for X-rays to make sure there’s not damage to my kneecap. or finger, which is swelling rapidly and hurting despite morphine. X-ray results: swelling, no break or damage to knee or finger.
I’m moved around ward to ward until I’m out into a female ward. I’ve been up since 6.30am the previous day. I’m not really tired. I’m just poorly. I don’t know what I want. I just want to feel better. Things still hurt a bit, and my wonderful friends have already called up the hospital to ask when they can visit. I’m waiting for them to visit me soon.
I’m so grateful for my wonderful, understanding and caring friends.