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Jan. 7th, 2014 07:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolI will write about the post-wedding events shortly; but I will do a brief 'the state of Colleen' update.
So, basically, I have been Quite Ill. I started feeling peaky at the end of the 30th, and assumed it was the proverbial 'Delhi belly' so, as did possibly everyone else on the holiday, took two Immodium and went to sleep.
AHAHAHA.
I had a restless night, sweating and unable to get warm all at the same time. Eventually I crawled out of bed and went out that afternoon; to put a long story short, threw up all over the Metro/myself/Richie. That was fun. Was ill all that evening but forced myself through the next day; travel sickness tablets really helped until I got back to the hotel and then was basically into Full On Poorly, up to and including vomiting, diorrhea, cramps, sweating, the whole shebang. I remember spending an evening crying on the floor of the bedroom and asking Richie to sell my car to pay off any debt we had if I died.
Smooth.
I fasted most of the time before the flight, and sort of stumbled through it as best as I could. By this point I was enjoying lower back pain in my kidneys due to the unedifying delight of being horrendously dehydrated, and unable to even keep water in for a particularly long period of time. Hurrah. I just wanted to come home so I could curl up in my own bed. As soon as I was off the plane I phoned NHS Direct, who wanted to me to see a GP within the next six hours. I was cheerfully in agreement with this, and by some miracle I managed to get an appointment to see the man who is theoretically my actual GP. He was moderately sympathetic and told me I needed to fast for 48 hours.
Cried. I had been hoping that I might just have been given a pill and told to dance away and eat something, but this was not the case. I calculated the last time I'd eaten and worked out I had another 36 hours to go. "It'll be a horrible time," warned the doctor. Yeah, really. I was still ill throughout and my energy levels - already low - dipped awfully. I mostly lay in bed, or the sofa, whilst Richie brought me squash with a straw in it to minimise movement. It's not that I can't cope with fasting, but having already gone so long on little food it was killing me.
On the Sunday I started eating again in fitful bursts, some of which I could handle, some of which I couldn't. I am now running over 24 hours without symptoms ZIPPEDY DOO DAH and managing food again. I ate a baked potato tonight and I hope that it stays put as I sort of want to go back to work on Thursday as I've already missed a few days and feel very guilty. However, it's now just sheer exhaustion. I'm desperate to do something, I really am. I did some washing up tonight and now I need to sit down for half an hour. I've lost a good 5% of my pre-Christmas bodyweight (and I'm willing to bet that I put on weight for Christmas/holiday so probably a lot more). My bras don't fit properly. My jeans - even the skinniest - fit with room to spare. To top matters off my battered and abused immune system has rolled over and given in to a cold which is really improving my fucking mood.
Tomorrow I intend to experiment with a Short Walk and see if I fall over and die on the way. If I mean to go to work, I really need to be able to put clothes on and whatnot, given that I will be going back to a 10 hour day. If I can't handle 'nipping to the shop' then I'm probably in graver trouble than I realised.
As I said, I am apparently a bad traveller. And if anyone has any suggestions for some super bland food I'd appreciate it, because toast is lovely and all but I need to ease my way back into food sooner rather than later.
So, basically, I have been Quite Ill. I started feeling peaky at the end of the 30th, and assumed it was the proverbial 'Delhi belly' so, as did possibly everyone else on the holiday, took two Immodium and went to sleep.
AHAHAHA.
I had a restless night, sweating and unable to get warm all at the same time. Eventually I crawled out of bed and went out that afternoon; to put a long story short, threw up all over the Metro/myself/Richie. That was fun. Was ill all that evening but forced myself through the next day; travel sickness tablets really helped until I got back to the hotel and then was basically into Full On Poorly, up to and including vomiting, diorrhea, cramps, sweating, the whole shebang. I remember spending an evening crying on the floor of the bedroom and asking Richie to sell my car to pay off any debt we had if I died.
Smooth.
I fasted most of the time before the flight, and sort of stumbled through it as best as I could. By this point I was enjoying lower back pain in my kidneys due to the unedifying delight of being horrendously dehydrated, and unable to even keep water in for a particularly long period of time. Hurrah. I just wanted to come home so I could curl up in my own bed. As soon as I was off the plane I phoned NHS Direct, who wanted to me to see a GP within the next six hours. I was cheerfully in agreement with this, and by some miracle I managed to get an appointment to see the man who is theoretically my actual GP. He was moderately sympathetic and told me I needed to fast for 48 hours.
Cried. I had been hoping that I might just have been given a pill and told to dance away and eat something, but this was not the case. I calculated the last time I'd eaten and worked out I had another 36 hours to go. "It'll be a horrible time," warned the doctor. Yeah, really. I was still ill throughout and my energy levels - already low - dipped awfully. I mostly lay in bed, or the sofa, whilst Richie brought me squash with a straw in it to minimise movement. It's not that I can't cope with fasting, but having already gone so long on little food it was killing me.
On the Sunday I started eating again in fitful bursts, some of which I could handle, some of which I couldn't. I am now running over 24 hours without symptoms ZIPPEDY DOO DAH and managing food again. I ate a baked potato tonight and I hope that it stays put as I sort of want to go back to work on Thursday as I've already missed a few days and feel very guilty. However, it's now just sheer exhaustion. I'm desperate to do something, I really am. I did some washing up tonight and now I need to sit down for half an hour. I've lost a good 5% of my pre-Christmas bodyweight (and I'm willing to bet that I put on weight for Christmas/holiday so probably a lot more). My bras don't fit properly. My jeans - even the skinniest - fit with room to spare. To top matters off my battered and abused immune system has rolled over and given in to a cold which is really improving my fucking mood.
Tomorrow I intend to experiment with a Short Walk and see if I fall over and die on the way. If I mean to go to work, I really need to be able to put clothes on and whatnot, given that I will be going back to a 10 hour day. If I can't handle 'nipping to the shop' then I'm probably in graver trouble than I realised.
As I said, I am apparently a bad traveller. And if anyone has any suggestions for some super bland food I'd appreciate it, because toast is lovely and all but I need to ease my way back into food sooner rather than later.
no subject
Date: 2014-01-08 12:48 pm (UTC)(Bland food not toast - boiled eggs? Porridge with honey? Smoothies?)
no subject
Date: 2014-01-08 02:57 pm (UTC)Boiled eggs have long been my 'go to' for sickness foods; my mum always made it for me when I was ill. Boiled egg and soildiers also represented the first meal I successfully kept down for more than three hours so have now been elevated to As Of The Gods. :)