Tuesday, 18 June 2013


You remember me bragging that I was going to prove the saying 'a good deed never goes unpunished' wrong, oh how mistaken I was. In fact I couldn't be more wrong if I'd said black was white.

As regular readers will know I'd developed a sore throat and a blocked nose mid week but put it down to hay fever. I didn't feel unwell in myself and my breathing was fine so no need to worry, no need to start my emergency antibiotics right?

On Saturday I woke up and had added a cough to my symptoms. I thought nothing of it, sore throats can cause coughs right, so got ready to do the face painting as I'd promised. In hindsight, isn't that a wonderful thing, I should have stayed at home, started my antibiotics and took it easy. I arrived at the venue and within minutes I was doing my first piece of art on a wriggly four year old. I was unusually thirsty so grabbed the offer of tea as soon as it was presented. I declined the cake though, I never eat at this sort of event because I like to avoid possible poisoning situations but to be honest I just wasn't hungry.

I got through the two hours with very little trouble and was duly picked up by Peter who asked whether I wanted some lunch. I still wasn't hungry but knew I had to keep my weight up so asked for a small bag of chips to keep me going and I'd make something when I got home. I didn't of course and barely ate any of the chips.

Once home I decided that safe was better than sorry and started my antibiotic supply. By late afternoon I was really quite ill. I couldn't breathe so went onto my oxygen but my sats dropped like a stone. I then started to shiver while at the same time run with sweat. Andrew prepared my Flolan for me, as by then I was too weak to do it myself, and changed my line and did so beautifully. A restless night ensued as I couldn't lie down as every time I tried I felt like I was drowning so I sat up most of the night reading and dozing on and off.

Sunday I started to cough up blood, I knew I was now in real trouble. Blood is not the best sign in the world. I couldn't eat, could only drink and felt so weak Peter had to help me dress and help me downstairs where I spent a miserable afternoon coughing while my chest rattled alarmingly. No one mentioned hospital, everyone knows how I feel about the Lethal and Deadly. Andrew kept listening to my chest and taking my sats and pressures and I almost gave in and asked to be taken to A & E but, despite knowing how stupid I was being, convinced myself I was better at home.

Monday and the doctor was called as soon as they opened at nine and after a brief conversation I was classed as an emergency and his list was shuffled so I could be seen as soon as possible. A prolonged examination resulted in instructions to continue on my current antibiotic to which has been added another antibiotic and steroids. My diuretics have also been increased for five days to try and drain the liquid that has built up in my lungs. I'm to call him again if there is no improvement by Wednesday and I'm to see him again on Friday for a progress check.

This morning I'm feeling better. The bleeding has stopped and my sats have increased. My chest feels less heavy and I don't feel as though I've got half a swimming pool sloshing around in there. All hail to the power of steroids and diuretics, it is far too soon for the extra antibiotics to have kicked in.

So another lesson learned. NEVER put others before yourself, no matter what you've promised, how desperate they are or how many people you'll be letting down. Another kick in the teeth for thinking of others and trying to be normal.

So it is back to the settee and to catch up on some most needed sleep. At the moment I'm still having to sleep propped up so the settee is the best place for that. I'm hopeful that tonight I can enjoy my bed again.

Blogs will be a bit erratic until I'm back on form.