Broken Wings

Yesterday evening my youngest came back from seeing a friend, and ran up to me for our normal hug, before blanching. When I asked her what was wrong, she screwed up her face and pronounced:

‘Mum, you’ve gone yellow.’

I knew summat was seriously wrong yesterday afternoon, about 2-ish. The pain in my upper abdomen was worse than anything I can ever remember, including childbirth. I thought for a while that maybe my weights session on Monday had pulled something, that perhaps I had a stomach spasm… and then I just couldn’t breathe, and began to panic. The plan was simple: I’d take a shower, and if the pain didn’t abate I’d call my husband and tell him I was going to the Hospital. Then, amazingly, everything stopped hurting. It was as if someone flicked a switch and there was nothing wrong. I went for a sleep, woke up, and when my daughter saw me, I was fairly confident I knew what had happened.

It took a trip to the Out of Hours doctor to confirm what I’d worked out for myself: I’d passed a Gallstone, which is why I have sudden onset Jaundice. This happened once before, about a decade previously, but it wasn’t nearly as painful or as destructive to my body: I’ve had digestive issues since, but eating sensibly had pretty much solved this, until on Monday night after my training I ate Cauliflower Cheese and had a Cream Eclair for dessert (both huge no-no’s for anyone who’s had Gall Bladder issues in the past) and pretty much set back my cause ten years. I’d forgotten why I couldn’t eat these two together on an empty stomach, but that won’t happen again any time soon. In fact, that’s NEVER going to happen again. My lesson has been summarily learnt.

I am, my daughter rather cheerfully informs me, considerably less yellow than I was last night, but still dehydrated and, frankly knackered. I’m about to go get a scan of my stomach area booked and a full set of blood work. It was a wake up call I didn’t ask for but now makes me realise that I may be able to change some parts of my body, but this only works if I do it with everything. That means plain and simple eating for a couple of weeks until I can get myself sorted, and to rule out anything else that might have cause the issue or that could be bothering me.

Mostly, I’d like to just go back to bed.

Moving on Up

Day Three of my bullet-sized antibiotics and I can most definitely state an improvement in both mental and physical health. Yes, there was still coughing in the night and I had to sleep with a pillow mountain to keep myself upright but otherwise, a distinct shift forward in recovery. At least part of that movement was due to a sports massage which I dragged myself in for yesterday, and which proved to be the biggest revelation of all. I though that lying on my front would be impossible, but as my masseuse pointed out, there’s less surface area of lung under pressure than being on your back. The amount of crap that came out of my lungs afterwards, and the two hours sleep I then managed as a result have been instrumental in recovery.

That means today I will be going for a PT session, though I suspect cardio is out of the window. It does mean I will be doing SOMETHING: the lack of physical exertion has been real cause for concern, as it is now a week since I did anything of note. I’m looking at the subzero temperatures however and deciding, at least until I’m fully recovered, that I will not be walking to the Gym. It is proper taters out there, and so I can remember this for future reference, that means COLD. I went and checked on the Internets: taters (potatoes in the mould) is a reference to the time when potatoes were buried in a heap to protect against frosts like these. There was a lot of Cockney rhyming slang in my youth, and this is one piece I’d like to maintain.

This therefore is your reminder that yup, I’m alive and improving, and some actual content might break out here in the next few days. Carry on.