Is how I'll remember these Summer holidays I think. Yesterday it was the farm, today it was the dentist and Saturday it will be our Olympic Wrestling tickets. Following on from that it will be our holiday on Saturday to France.
The Olympics have been bitter sweet in that I've enjoyed watching them to a degree and celebrating our greatest haul ever but sad that my husband wasn't able to enjoy it as well.
So why all the doom and gloom? Well yesterday the pain in my husband's thigh was getting no better (see previous post) he was still unable to stand up without collapsing back down in agony. I had already phoned the doctor on Monday and he said he would come out the next day - yesterday. So I cancelled the farm and my friend brought her kids around to play. The doctor was puzzled as to why the leg wasn't black and blue if the main muscle had torn or why there wasn't any signs of swelling. Given that the 'heavy duty' painkillers weren't doing anything he arranged the orthopaedic team to see my husband that day via A&E. Great. But how to get there? An ambulance was arranged and came within the hour and took him to our local hospital - notorious for its not so good reputation but I have always found them to cope exceedingly well under the amount of pressure they are under.
My mum and dad came up to stay and look after the kids. I followed after him an hour later. He had already had an x-ray so I was impressed. Cue much waiting and my husband in agony - tears rolling down his face with the pain. My husband is old school - he doesn't do crying or going to the doctors. I knew it was bad. The nurse wanted to start him off on paracetamol - erm NO morphine if you please. The orthopaedic guy (in fancy suit and tie looking fresh faced) came prodding and poking. The husband could barely describe what had happened but managed somehow. There's nothing quite as bad as seeing the person you love in agony - well maybe being the person in agony but you know what I mean. Once the morphine kicked in the pain was under control. I left at 10.00 pm and he was put on a ward at 2.30 am. I cried when I got home and a little prior to leaving. The stress had just been brewing for a week or so.
Watching in a cubicle in A&E is like watching a stressful television programme that has no ending. It is surprisngly addictive viewing. People coming and going, moved into cubicles, out of cubicles, moving up the system, remaining stagnant in the system, drunks singing and then pissing themselves, abusive people being ejected, worried relatives, waiting, waiting and waiting. Just waiting. I have to say the nurse in charge (and the one that took over) had everything under control - a controlled chaos. They really do care and try and do the best they can.
So today the doctor came around and they are still puzzled. They did say he may have ripped a bone away from the bone?! Ekk. They won't know until they have done an MRI scan of all suspected areas - back, pelvis, hip joint and thigh. They are also putting the wheels in motion for physio. But he wasn't seen today and I'm hoping he gets the MRI done tomorrow. He is getting well cared for - the nurses are lovely, he's in a quiet ward and his pain is under control.
I did get out on a bike ride with my son today but I did eat a packet of Frazzles. What can I say?! My last attack was in February. I did enjoy them I must say although feel a bit sick now.
Anyhow, time for more Olympic watching - my cancelled Olympics. To be honest I don't care about all the cancelled stuff. It is only stuff after all. What matters is family, friends and the ones you love most and I'll have that over stuff any day.