Brush with Death

My glands and tonsils hit an all time swell today. Last night, I was feeling rather shady when I went to bed, and got progressively worse through the night. I didn't manage to sleep much at all.

In the morning I went to the GP to get my throat checked again and she prescribed antibiotics and gave me emergency case status so if there was no progress in 24 hours, I was to be admitted to the hospital.

I went home feeling grim, and tried to have a little snooze. I woke up by the sound of my own throat swelling shut and the resulting choke. I looked in the mirror and my glands were so huge I looked like something from the Gooneys.

Long story short, I was admitted to hospital and had a lot of firsts happen to me.

Poor me

First IV, first doctor to gasp at the state of my throat, first ride in an ambulance (to transfer to a specialist hospital), first steroid intake, and lastly first draining of an abscess.

The real story is in the abscess, or what they call a 'quinsy' in the Ear, Nose and Throat world. I was delivered to the specialist hospital via ambulance with another woman. She was waiting in the hallway with me when I got called in first. We had already begun to bond over our pain while waiting for the doctor and she gave me the comforting smile when they called my name to go into the little room.

The doctor immediately agreed it was an abscess and it would have to be drained with what can only be described as the mother of all needles. I asked if I would have something to numb the pain, to which he responded by holding up a spray bottle. "So I won't feel a thing?" I asked. "Oh no, you will feel everything, in fact most people opt not to have the spray as it doesn't really numb the pain, it just makes your tongue roll around in your mouth." I still opted for the spray. And it does make your tongue roll around.

He didn't want me to be misled though. He graphically described what he was going to do to me and that it would in fact, really hurt. He said he wanted me to be prepared because when the needle hits the abscess, I cannot move, otherwise he will rip my mouth the shit (I'm paraphrasing here).

He hooks what looks like a huge metal shoehorn over my tongue to hold me in place, while he slowly brings the mahusive needle toward my really sensitive fleshy bits. It is a pain I have never come across before or want to feel again. The only thing worse is the feeling that happens next when he unhooks my tongue so he can retract the syringe and suck out as much puss as he can.

blood bowl.

When he pulls the needle away, there is a loud pppssssss'ing sound of air popping out of the abscess, followed by leaking blood and more puss.

I weep. Like I'm six. He tells me he has to go in again and proceeds to wave the needle toward my face. I back away and lock my lips tight. We both begin to laugh at the absurdity of my actions. I tell him I need some time to cry and recover before I let him stab me again. We end up chatting and laughing some more before we agree it's time to repeat the process.

He manages to stick me three more times before he's decided I've had enough and he has removed all the puss. Each time he takes out the needle, I wail like a prisoner of war and spit copious amounts of junk into a bowl. I didn't realise how loud I was until I leave the room to get my prescription drugs, and the poor lady who has to go in after me is white as a ghost and sobbing, just because she knows she's next.

I try to convince her whatever she has, it's unlikely it's the same as what I have and even I feel much better now. I then ask what she has. A quinsy, she answers. F*ck. My face cannot hide fast enough that I know she's going to have to do what I just did. This causes her to down spiral again and start sobbing. I rub her back and fill her head with lies that I'm ok and it wasn't that bad. She disappears in the room and I cringe. See you never lady.

Data's bag of kindness

My gorgeous Data arrived at the hospital during this time as well, carrying everything he thought I would need at the hospital (we originally thought I was staying overnight). I nearly breakdown again at his kindness. He even brought my favourite stuffed animal. I guess he has human emotion after all.

Drugs, glorious drugs!

The one thing the doctor impresses upon me is that I MUST eat and talk as much as I can. Something that seems like unnatural advice. He explained that if I don't, the tissue and muscle will seize up and spasm, causing more problems. It's important I keep the tissue loose. I take this as an excuse to smash a Sub from Subway on the way home. I am so doped up at this point that eating is heaven.




I'm home now and beginning to crash from lack of sleep and the draining of the previous 15 hours of adrenaline that has been coursing through my body. I cannot wait to fall into a mini coma and wake up feeling refreshed. I do have to go back on Sunday to see if the abscess has refilled, and then potentially repeat the process all over again. Fingers crossed that NEVER happens again, but if it does, I know I can survive it. It's these kind of moments in my life where I am reassured that my spirit animal is Beyonce. Facing any challenge with strength and sassiness.