Monday, 20 September 2010

George A Romeo's Night of the Living Dead...

I spent the afternoon in the Western General Hospital waiting to see someone, anyone about my dodgy back and neck. I hate hospitals, I hate hospital waiting rooms and today's was a spectacular menagerie of ill people coughing, spluttering, stinking of drink and of wee...



I woke up on Saturday morning to find my neck muscles had gone into spasm and I couldn't get out of bed. B was crying for a feed and so I lay there contemplating for several minutes how best to wake up Oh Daddy and break the news to him that my back had gone again.After the usual chorus of "Awww love...", he dutifully went downstairs to get some muscle relaxants and pain killers. A quick rummage around the medicine box revealed nothing and so he returned empty handed. You know when you have kids and you ask them to find something for you and they wail "Muuuuum, I can't find it!" until you go and find it yourself within 30 seconds, well...

So pain medication was eventually found and B had finished feeding and so he gave me my tablets and a bottle of mineral water and promptly left the room. Flat on my back, I pondered how exactly I would get the pills and then the water into my mouth. Several splashes later, I shouted on him again. He dutifully helped me out of bed, where I could lift the pills and water to my mouth and take them. The only problem this time was that I was standing in the middle of the room wearing only knickers. Again, I summoned Oh Daddy who muttered something along the lines of "I'm not cut out for this..." and "...residential care home...sponge on a stick..." and dressed me. Yesterday was better because some really good friends of our came round and I was tried to some delicious homemade soup and a massage. Things haven't gotten any better since so I went to the hospital at the behest of NHS24 and now they want to scan my brain...


Day three in the Big Brother house and I'm pissed off.

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