Okay, so in England this weekend, we've had a 3 day weekend. In the May month, we get the first and last Monday off as a bank holiday, which is awesome and I still have no idea why it's there... but who's complaining?
I had plans this weekend. It mainly involved One-And-Only-Daniela, singing round a piano, followed by a cinema and then a happy hour that we were going to abuse. It was going to be awesome. None of this happened, however, as Friday night my body did that thing it does every so often, which was become an attention seeking idiot.
So, being the hardcore party person that I am, I decided that I was going to go to bed early on Friday night so that I could wake up nice and early, work on the final touches of the editing process of my book, and then head off to One-And-Only-Daniela's house. So, at 8:30pm, I snuggled down deep into my duvet and waited for the sweet, sweet sleep I was dying for to take over. However, as I lay down, something in my lower back started to ache. It wasn't a really bad pain, it felt more uncomfortable than anything else, so I changed position and hoped that would appease it. It didn't. Instead, the uncomfortable feeling just seemed to grow until it started to qualify as an actual pain. By this point, I had discovered that adding a little pressure onto the spot, namely a pillow wedged in between my back and the bed, seemed to help with the weird pain. Not sure what it was that I was experiencing, I tried once again to fall asleep, with this new found alleviation. It worked for about 20 minutes.
After roughly an hour of this pain, I gave up the idea of sleep and tried to distract my mind by opening up my computer and doing some editing instead. I tried, but the pain had begun to grow to a point where my brain didn't want to focus on anything else. Realising that this wasn't the right frame of mind to be in for an editing session, I decided to watch me some TV instead. I got about one episode into The Office USA before all hell broke loose in my back and I shot up and out of my bed, choosing to pace the room instead.
By 10:30, I realised that this pain was not going to get any better, but just get worse. I called The-Father, who is a frequent enjoyer of the kidney stone at least once a year, and listed my symptoms. He confirmed that it sounded like it could be kidney stones and thought it best I headed off to A&E, just to be safe.
So, off I trotted in the middle of the night, to A&E. I arrived via bus, and the apparent kidney/lower back pain had decided to choose this wonderful moment, once in the company of a bunch of strangers, to up the anti and the pain became something that was getting to unbearable. This was the point that I found out who my true self was, and just how far the influences of the British nature around me had warped my personality.
Words cannot describe to you all the pain I began to feel from that point onwards. I had never felt anything like it myself, I wanted to simultaneously cry, scream, punch something and collapse into the nearest strangers' arms. However, due to my intensely suppressed British upbringing, I did none of these things. I arrived at A&E, waited whilst the receptionists all seemed to be deliberately ignoring my presence for about 5 minutes and spoke to them, only when called, as per the sign's instructions next to me. I was at a point where I couldn't stand still, I had to constantly move just to try and find some kind of alleviation, although it barely did any good. But, I realised that there were a large amount of people in A&E, waiting to be seen, and it would do no good to make a fuss. As such, I filled in the form they gave me, giving details about my marital status and religious beliefs, then waited a while longer for the receptionist to deem to acknowledge me again, as she had gone back to refusing to make eye contact, whilst she worked on her computer.
I considered clearing my throat, or saying 'Excuse me' at one point during this moment of being ignored, but figured that she was probably very busy and so there was no reason to rock the boat. So I waited, and she eventually turned her attention back to me, took the form, and told me to take a seat.
I did as I was told... for about 10 minutes, until the act of sitting became far too uncomfortable... well actually it became uncomfortable about 2 minutes in, but I figured all I'd do was draw attention to myself if I got up and started pacing the room, so decided to just wait out the pain. After 10 minutes, I had no choice and my body seemed to force me to stand and walk. People did look, and I could feel myself giving them an apologetic look... again, I don't know why. But apparently I was sorry for having a pain that meant I couldn't sit still like the rest of them...
I waited for another couple of hours and, at about 1am, I was called in to see the nurse. She didn't seem all that convinced that I was in pain and told me to wait to see the Doctor. There was one very real reason why she didn't seemed that concerned, this reason was, I could feel myself actually downplaying the pain. I had no control over my reactions anymore. No matter how much I wanted to just tell her that I had never felt a pain like it, or that I really needed to see a doctor straight away, otherwise I was afraid of passing out if it got any more intense, I just simply smiled at her, told her it was pretty uncomfortable and that I think it would be beneficial for me to see a doctor. She sent me back out to the waiting room to wait for him to see her.
What happened in the waiting period between 1am and 3am, when the doctor eventually saw me, is a bit of blur. The pain continued to grow steadily, I could no longer sit for longer than a minute and I paced that room at least 100 times. I found my head popping up like a meerkat any time a doctor came out and called out a name, and then drop down in despair when that name wasn't mine. However, in amongst all of this, I had only two thoughts...
A: I will not make a fuss and bring any more attention to myself than is necessary.
B: The-Father and Marmie have had one ongoing debate for as long as I have been alive. This debate is, which is more painful? Kidney Stones or Childbirth? Neither could answer this question as The-Father is incapable of having children and Marmie has never experienced kidney stones. Should this turn out to be kidney stones; one day, when I eventually get round to having kids of my own, I will be able to finally answer this question once and for all. I know it sounds strange, but it was the only thing I could think of.
By the end of my wait, my natural impulse to downplay all pain was becoming next to impossible. I was no longer able to stop the tears from running down my face, and so resorted to wiping them away as soon as they emerged. I found myself close to going up to the reception and asking the woman when I would be able to be seen... although, still my desire not to cause any unnecessary fuss won over and I continued to fight the urge. I didn't want to be seen as difficult, after all.
When the doctor came out and actually called my name, I have never sprinted towards him so quickly in my life... seriously Usain Bolt had nothing on me. He guided me to the examination room and the moment I got in there, I turned to him and every part of my suppressed self control exploded... I sobbed like a freakin' baby in front of this man. He looked at me, completely shocked, slowly edged over to the door and called for a nurse to come in and inject me with some pain medication. They came in, did their thing, and within 20 minutes the pain had gone, leaving nothing but a floaty, buzzed feeling in it's wake. I have never been more appreciative for drugs than in that moment. I sat on the bed and let them prod at me with needles, with nothing but a smile on my face.
By 4am, it was all done. He sent me home with painkillers and a shrug as he didn't know what was wrong with me, but asked that I come back for more tests later in the week. I was so spaced out by this point that I didn't argue with him. I was sleep deprived and high on medication. I grabbed a cab and went home, collapsing onto my bed.
It's now four days later and I have spent it predominantly in bed. The pain hasn't come back to the extent that it was before. I still don't really know what it was, but am beginning to suspect that it was the pain in my arm thing that my body put me through, all over again. I'm getting really tired of it's shenanigans, let me tell you that. However, I am grateful that the pain seems to have shifted and now only comes in small twinges. I'm just hoping it stays that way! And if it isn't kidney stones, I'm okay with not being able to settle The-Parents' debate once and for all. I mean, the answer to that debate has been gnawing at our family for decades, but I am not desperate enough to answer it by wishing for my issue to have been stones... that shizzle can stay unanswered for all time if needs be.
Peace out my lovelies.
PS: 4 days to go until A World Reborn is available on Amazon! Book 2 in the Utopia Series. If you haven't read the first book yet, check out the link in the right hand bar! It's exciting! Although, I appreciate that my view might be slightly biased, as I am the one who wrote it...
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