A Health Update: Injections and G&T’s

I’m writing this after just injecting myself in the belly and I’m now enjoying a Gin and Tonic whilst holding tightly onto where I jabbed it in, and typing one-handedly. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to drink to be honest and Google wasn’t too helpful, so I’m being sensible (ish).

Today has finally felt like the first time over the last few days that isn’t a complete blur of tiredness and emotions and doctors and hospitals.

I wrote my last mega-interesting health update last Wednesday and I talked about having to go for a blood test the next day to see if I could have a DVT in my arm where I’d had the cannula inserted for my MRI scan the week before.

Anyway, I had the blood test and spent the next day chasing up my (urgent) results before the weekend, in between having a CT scan and ergo another bloody cannula. The CT scan was fine other than my arms feeling like rather sore pincushions. Eventually, my doctor had access to my blood results and asked me to come in that evening — after waiting bloody ages he checked my arms all over and asked me some questions and said that my D-dimer levels were slightly raised. He couldn’t see any obvious signs of DVT but he thought it would be a good idea to go to hospital to get it checked, but warned me that it being Friday night meant that I could have to stay in for a few days and the earlier I got there the better.

So I rushed my arse off home to throw too much stuff into bags in case I had to stay, cried a bit because I’d really been looking forward to my relaxing Friday night with my beautifully chilled Sauvignon Blanc and some Netflix and chilling, grabbed a McDonald’s for my dinner, and got to hospital (the other one in our city which is further away). Which is where I spent the next 4 hours lying across hospital chairs, dreaming of wine, crying a little bit and feeling sorry for myself, and having more blood tests (in my hand because everywhere else was sore — and bloody hell that was painful — I’ve still got a massive bruise now that’s sore) and speaking to numerous doctors and nurses.

One nurse was far too chatty (nosey) for my liking and proceeded to ask me my life history including at what point I’d had my miscarriage two years ago and telling me how absolutely awful everything I’ve been through is, alongside far too many sympathetic noises, and telling me how she’s already scared of trying for a baby one day because “you just never know do you?”. She’s gonna pray for me though so I’ll be right.

A junior doctor seemed to wonder why I was even there and after I said that my GP had measured my (problematic) arm as slightly bigger than the other he measured it himself, laughed, and said: “they’re the same”. But luckily he thought it best that I see a senior doctor which I (much) later did and by that time my blood test results had come back and she told me that my D-dimer levels had doubled since the day before for some reason, which meant that something was wrong but they didn’t know what.

They said that I seemed well enough to go home and that they would ring me to arrange an Ultrasound on Monday and meanwhile I had to inject myself with blood thinners every day until then. Just what I wanted to hear. Luckily I’ve had IVF twice so I have had to inject myself many times before, but that was a long while ago now.

The nurse showed me how and where to do it, stabbed me in the belly and when I sucked in my breath she said, “yes it does sting a bit”. No motherfucker, no it does not sting a bit. It REALLY BLOODY HURTS, and I am tired, and I hate injections in my belly, and I have spent my Friday night alone without even my wine for company. And there has been a loud, stinky, woman in here all night, who tried to mess with the tv so that we could all ‘watch a film together’ instead of the news (yeah I’m sure the NHS gets film channels — they do hand massages while you wait too, you know), talked loudly on the phone, thus informing everyone that she has pneumonia due to the mould in her flat, and offered us all some sweets (strangely enough we all politely declined).

Surprise surprise, Monday morning came around and I got the phone call saying they’ve made me an appointment for Wednesday at the same time as another appointment I already had, so we sorted that and now I am spending my Wednesday afternoon at hospital; my new home.

In the meantime, I’ve had to inject myself in the belly for even longer than I was originally supposed to, and now have a pretty pattern of bruises on my belly to add to my collection, and I’m slightly worried that I won’t wake up again every time I go to sleep.

But, right at this moment, I’m feeling kind of stronger and more positive (could be the G&T’s) and I’m back to just taking it one step at a time and embracing life for what it is (yep, definitely the G&T’s). That may change again after spending most of the next two days in hospital, but it’s something for now.

Lou x

P.S If anyone absolutely, positively knows that you definitely shouldn’t be drinking on blood thinners and it’s really stupid of me to do so — please don’t tell me — it’s too late now and so far I’m still here.