Did anyone get the number of that bus?

Well, what a couple of days I’ve had. I had been a bit tickly for a few days, nothing serious just the odd cough. I started feeling a bit rough on Tuesday night, thought no more of it and toddled off to bed. When I got up Wednesday morning at 5 I felt like death. Hot and cold sweats, massive headache, thoughts not quite right, just holding my head up was an effort. I ‘phoned in sick, had a Lemsip and went back to bed. I was taking paracetamol every four hours, then I was sick, started with diarrhoea, was a bit delirious, and still in massive pain from the headache.

I decided my body was trying to tell me something with the evacuation, so set to starving myself for 48 hours. This was exceptionally easy given how I felt. I barely got out of bed Wednesday or Thursday, I was having pain killers every four hours around the clock (screw the ‘do not exceed four doses in 24 hours’, if that’s what they want, make stronger pills)! By the middle of Thursday night the pain was so severe I couldn’t even wait the full four hours.

And by the way, to any mothers who read this, I looked it up on the Internet comparative pain guide, and it said "Yeah, you wish you were in labour! This is proper pain, not one twinge every five minutes."

Which is to pre-empt my sister. When Wendy was telling her how the doctor had to try to talk to me to stop me from passing out from the pain of not properly anaesthetised vasectomy, she said "How long was he on the table for, 15 minutes? I was in labour for 38 hours!"

I was that desperate I even considered praying! I was thinking on the lines that it couldn’t do any harm, but then I got to thinking it must surely end sometime, and I didn’t want to be that hypocritical.

Then I tried a few of the Buddhist Jedi mind tricks, and whilst they do allow you to accept the pain, the effort of holding the concentration was as tiring as the rolling around whimpering (manfully, you understand).

Anywho, the headache finally broke at 3am today (Friday).

By that time I’d been in bed for two days, and necked a hell of a lot of pain killers, so when my head stopped hurting I was fully able to appreciate the degree of discomfort the small of my back was in. So still no restful sleep.

I’ve been on tenterhooks since about 7 this morning, which is when the last lot of pain killers should have ran out. It’s 10.11 am and still no headache. Please let that be it. It wasn’t just the degree of the pain, it was not knowing when it was ever going to end. I was actually going to go to the doctors this morning. It had come to that. Though they never treat me I was going to beg! I thought the way it was going I was going to be in dire pain all weekend, and possibly do myself a serious mischief what with the cavalier overdosing and all.

So now, it’s sit up straight, try and ease my back off, drink plenty of fluids to flush my liver, and hope like buggery I never get that again.

I am a deathly grey colour at the moment, and I’ve lost four pounds in two days, so every cloud does indeed have a silver lining.