Tuesday 22 May 2007

As you know, the fun never stops at the Snail Shell. Let me give you an example. Yesterday I woke up with a revolting headache. It wasn't a migraine. (I'd had one of those on Saturday afternoon.) It was much worse. I get these headaches occasionally and they're characterised by being completely unresponsive to any type of analgesic—aspirin, paracetamol, ibuprofen, codeine ... None of them has any effect. So I have to sit out the headaches.

Yesterday, the headache was accompanied by nausea. Well, not just nausea but rather spectacular vomiting. I was impressed. I'd forgotten how much force lies behind a serious chunder. You can launch diced carrots into space.

After spending the day unable to keep down anything (including water), I decided to take myself off for medical treatment. Of course, I couldn't get an appointment with a GP at that time, so I went to the local hospital. (You can't imagine the discussion I had with myself about whether I should bother them with something so trivial. Hardly an emergency.)

Luckily, the Emergency Ward was quiet on Monday night. One man had been bitten by a spider. (I thought of offering to identify it.) Another had dropped his motorbike and hadn't realised how much damage he'd done to his foot until he'd taken off his boots some hours later. And then there was me.

I got a new graduate at the end of his shift. He'd ask me a series of questions, then do the Columbo line, "just one more thing". Unfortunately, he kept forgetting what it was, so he'd conclude with "there is no one more thing".

While I was rehydrating at the end of a saline drip, I had to listen to the person in the next bed. He had experienced chest pains (which turned out to be gastric reflux) and taken the day off work. Not only did he want a medical certificate for the next two days but he wanted the nurses to get him sandwiches. (Apparently he hadn't eaten since morning tea. Try last night, bucko.) He was appalled that they couldn't offer him a menu. I felt like shoving my IV stand up his arse. I got very close to it when his pal brought his mobile phone in—the ring tone was Achy, Breaky Heart.

I got out five hours later. I felt much better.