Not in hospital. Quite.
Oct. 30th, 2008 12:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
My fun. Let me show you it.
Thanks for all your advices about my thumb, which I was busily taking to heart and working out whether the doctor or the walk-in centre or just a phone call would be best - when of course the thumb started feeling better, not hurting so much. (NB - this may have been something to do with the heroic doses of co-codamol and ibuprofen I was swallowing, but I didn't really believe that; I don't actually have much faith in the efficacy of medicines, for all that I swallow them in quantities.)
Anyway, I thought maybe I'd just wait and see, one more day, y'know? I have work to do...
So it's coming on late afternoon when the thumb really starts hurting again, and the rest of the hand is starting to chime in a little. But by then it's too late to interact with the medical professionals, because I have to read at a gig tonight; so I endure. Heroically, I like to think.
By the time I get to the Lit & Phil, I'm really not feeling well at all.
By the time I get out of the Lit & Phil two hours later, I am shivering and hurting and the pain has reached my wrist.
I go straight to the walk-in clinic, which sends me through to Casualty.
Eventually a cute young Casualty doc comes to have a look, and is rather more worried than I'd expected. I was of course thinking infection, antibiotics, like that. He was thinking infection inside the tendon sheath, where the blood supply is pathetic and it's bloody hard to treat; he was thinking admission, and intravenous antibiotic nuking, and a probable visit from the clever hand surgeons this very night.
But he spoke to the clever hand surgeons, and came back with a compromise; oral nuking tonight, and an appointment first thing tomorrow. And I am not thinking that clever hand surgeons didn't really want to turn out in a bitter midnight, oh no. I heart the NHS, and trust all its decisions implicitly, I do.
So. Nice nurse came to clean and nuke the wound, and I nearly passed out under her ministrations, came over all dizzy, I did, and they nearly kept me in regardless; but here I am, safe home. And more than a little hurty - they didn't give me any nucular painkillers, sob! - and I can't even have a hot bath on account of needing to keep my dressings dry, but I can at least type.
Until tomorrow, when they will doubtless cut off my thumb, these clever surgeons.
Which is pleasingly symmetrical, because the novel I have coming out in January starts with a boy losing his thumb. And his right thumb too, just like mine.
I am hopeful not to live out the rest of his story, thanks. Though I wouldn't mind his final relationship, I think that'd be interesting. Just, not the stuff in between, oh no...
Thanks for all your advices about my thumb, which I was busily taking to heart and working out whether the doctor or the walk-in centre or just a phone call would be best - when of course the thumb started feeling better, not hurting so much. (NB - this may have been something to do with the heroic doses of co-codamol and ibuprofen I was swallowing, but I didn't really believe that; I don't actually have much faith in the efficacy of medicines, for all that I swallow them in quantities.)
Anyway, I thought maybe I'd just wait and see, one more day, y'know? I have work to do...
So it's coming on late afternoon when the thumb really starts hurting again, and the rest of the hand is starting to chime in a little. But by then it's too late to interact with the medical professionals, because I have to read at a gig tonight; so I endure. Heroically, I like to think.
By the time I get to the Lit & Phil, I'm really not feeling well at all.
By the time I get out of the Lit & Phil two hours later, I am shivering and hurting and the pain has reached my wrist.
I go straight to the walk-in clinic, which sends me through to Casualty.
Eventually a cute young Casualty doc comes to have a look, and is rather more worried than I'd expected. I was of course thinking infection, antibiotics, like that. He was thinking infection inside the tendon sheath, where the blood supply is pathetic and it's bloody hard to treat; he was thinking admission, and intravenous antibiotic nuking, and a probable visit from the clever hand surgeons this very night.
But he spoke to the clever hand surgeons, and came back with a compromise; oral nuking tonight, and an appointment first thing tomorrow. And I am not thinking that clever hand surgeons didn't really want to turn out in a bitter midnight, oh no. I heart the NHS, and trust all its decisions implicitly, I do.
So. Nice nurse came to clean and nuke the wound, and I nearly passed out under her ministrations, came over all dizzy, I did, and they nearly kept me in regardless; but here I am, safe home. And more than a little hurty - they didn't give me any nucular painkillers, sob! - and I can't even have a hot bath on account of needing to keep my dressings dry, but I can at least type.
Until tomorrow, when they will doubtless cut off my thumb, these clever surgeons.
Which is pleasingly symmetrical, because the novel I have coming out in January starts with a boy losing his thumb. And his right thumb too, just like mine.
I am hopeful not to live out the rest of his story, thanks. Though I wouldn't mind his final relationship, I think that'd be interesting. Just, not the stuff in between, oh no...
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-29 11:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-29 11:50 pm (UTC)What a scary, nasty way to spend a day. I hope things start to heal up soon.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-29 11:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-30 12:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-30 12:46 am (UTC)Thinking many hopeful and healing thoughts...
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-30 12:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-30 06:51 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-30 07:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-30 08:28 pm (UTC)