Ouch
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♥Apr. 3rd, 2012 // 05:16 pm♥
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So, I booked an appointment with the GP for Monday evening, mostly for a prescription refill but also because I wanted to check that there was nothing I could/should so about the trapped nerve in my leg.
And, as it happened, I was sitting on the sofa on Sunday evening when I got hit by stomach pain. "Damn," I thought, "where did I accidentally eat large amounts of dairy?" And then I sat and waited for the next stage in the process, which involves running to the loo and which never came. And, pain, ow, more pain. Went to bed. Woke up. Emailed in sick. Sat on the sofa, wishing I felt well enough to at least do a little light tidying. Hobbled to the GP surgery.
At the surgery, a Nice Young Man came over and said he was a third year medic and could he see me first, which was fine by me. He had a jolly old time poking my leg, eventually deciding that it was, indeed, mostly numb in the patch where I'd said it was mostly numb, and that ("could you walk across the room on tip-toe, please?") it wasn't actually causing me any problems other than being a little disconcerting, and so concluding that while it might suddenly get better when the bruise on my knee goes down it probably would take six months or so for the nerve to re-grow (hey ho: as I pointed out, at least my rib is better!).
After that, he poked my tummy a bit, and took my temperature (which was normal, so it's not appendicitis), and asked if I would mind terribly having a urine test, and then he went and got the proper doctor, who tutted at my leg and told me to be more careful and then had a much harder poke at my tummy before sending me off to wee in a bottle.
Wee ruled out an ectopic pregnancy or infection, so the doctor concluded that my appendix was grumbling and that I should go straight to the hospital if I developed a fever or if the pain got worse. So I suppose that's alright, then.
Today, I felt a bit better again, but not well enough to ride*: I gave someone else my lesson (well, it was paid for and I wouldn't have got a refund!) and then fussed GB for a bit until the horse dentist arrived to check him over. Teeth are mostly ok, but he did note that a) the old vet did a much better job of smoothing out one side of his mouth than the other when she had a go, and b) that his upper teeth were twice the length of the lowers, which he would probably do work to correct in a young horse but wasn't inclined to fuss about at GB's age given that he's demonstrably not having trouble eating. Considering that he's had his teeth done once in the last decade, and possibly not much before that, GB's behaviour and teeth were more than good enough, which is a relief.
I may have had a small shopping accident with a side saddle habit. I may, based on the lovely photos that a nice lady emailed me of costumes she's about to sell, be about to have another one. My heart says "Get the cream satin Victorian outfit," my head says "Hello, you have a horse. He slobbers when he checks your pockets for food and gets black hair everywhere," and my husband says "I think that the royal blue Georgian one would suit you best," which is odd as I don't think he's ever seen me in blue, as I very rarely wear it. I shall give him the benefit of the doubt, probably. It almost might be piratical, as well, which could be handy.
* Conversation with Mother: "Well, I can see you might not go to work if you had an excuse, but... gosh, you must be feeling under the weather!" |
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