And so the adventures continued. I returned to the Heath bright and early ready for my scan, dressed in my snazzy new skirt and top. (Sometimes dressing nice just cheers you up, y'know?) I was made to wait and partake in more tests until eventually I was wheeled downstairs to the ultrasound.
After it was over - they were getting pretty routine now, I was told to sit in the waiting area for a doctor to see me. So I took my seat and waited... And waited... And waited.
...oh and waited.
At about 5pm I was finally escorted to a bed. I'd cleaned out my entire handbag and purse, pulling out more receipts than a store hand out daily, as well as started writing an ode to waiting rooms. (It'll be the making of me - just you wait.) The, clearly underpaid, doctor came along to introduce herself and inform me that I would be staying overnight so that I could have a procedure in the morning to unblock the stones ...I think I'd jinxed it by wearing nice clothes.
I was left where I was until 11pm. Dwelling on the fact that I was going to miss yet more Eastenders. In the bed next to me was an old woman who couldn't even sit upright. They had to use what I can only describe as a miniature crane to lift her onto the bed. She was in a lot of pain and would alternate between crying out, "just put me to sleep, I can't take this anymore", and "please help me, I don't want to die." It was really heart breaking to hear anyone in that kind of pain.
As I said I was moved on about 11ish to the short stay ward ready for my procedure. I was handed some water and a cheese sandwich and that was it, I just had to wait. By now it's pretty safe to say that I was sick of waiting and wanted to gouge out my own damn gall bladder.
How ridiculous is it that we've evolved over millions of years, probably from something that once had bloody gills, and yet we're still stuck with pointless organs such as the appendix and gall bladder? Come on biology, get your shit together.
The girl sat in the bed across from me, I later found out her name was Chloe, had been in the waiting room with me that morning, before being rushed off because she couldn't stop throwing up. And now here she was, sat in the same room as me, still suffering every hour or so. The next morning she was shipped off into the next room to sit in a bed whilst she waited for an op, (because we'd been lying on trolleys all night) whilst I was whisked away to have my procedure.
I had to be awake for my procedure which I wasn't happy about, but I was pretty high off whichever drug they had given to me so I can't remember much. They made me lie on my front on the trolley before drugging me and shoving a tube in my mouth and down into my stomach. The tube held a camera so that they could see what they were doing, as well as the tools to do it. The nurse told me that they made a slit in the side of one of my bodily tubes and inserted a balloon to allow it to stretch; preventing any more stones getting stuck. Hopefully.
A few hours later, I was back on my trolley with a sore throat when they found me a bed in the next room, opposite Chloe. We didn't really speak, it was more of a case of giving each other sympathetic smiles but she told me that she still hadn't had her op, despite being told that she was "next on the list" that morning.
It was about 10pm that they came for her, she returned at 12.30 - completely out of it because of the drugs. They told her that there was nothing wrong with her appendix, but they'd taken it out anyway "just in case" and that they think it was just muscle bruising that had been giving her pain. It's good to see all those years of medical school and that really expensive education being put to good use.
The next morning, Chloe seemed a lot brighter and we started chatting, entertaining ourselves and clearly bothering the miserable woman that also had the misfortune of sharing a room with us.
When the nurse came to tell us it looked like we could go home that afternoon, there were no words for how loud we became. A group of twelve year old girls could've been offered a meet and greet with One Direction and they wouldn't have been as excitable as we were. We were told to wait for lunch - Chloe's first meal since arriving at the hospital, and then we could go soon after. Well, the dinner lady wasn't a swift mover and the smell of fish and chips was driving us insane so this seemed like the longest half an hour of our lives.
It was Friday afternoon and we'd had enough of being ill. After two weeks of suffering, I was finally able to eat and wasn't in any pain. It looked like I would have to come back for an operation in six months time, but for now I was good to go. The doctor signed my sick note for work (a week off, thank you very much) and gave me some cheeky painkillers and waved me on my way. I gave Chloe a hug and we promised to stay in touch. It's weird the way you meet some people sometimes isn't it?
And that was the end of my Glasgow/BlytheCon/hospital adventure. Although I'm keen to go back to Glasgow and do it properly, I hope I'll be able to go without reliving this particular experience. Wish me luck (and good health!)
