the · trick · is · to · keep · breathing.

So, I totally love Christmas. Because I'm cool.

My question is this:

WHO WANTS A CHRISTMAS CARD? :D

Seriously, any of you, give me your address and I'll mail you a Christmas card. If anyone wants to send me one, that would be totally appreciated, but it's by no means necessary - I just love to send them! This goes for all you across-the-pond folk/non-UK folk too, I'm happy to send cards anywhere :) Please let me, it'd make me really happy because I'm a total loser like that! Anyway, if you'd like a card from yours truly, comment here with your address - comments are screened and won't be posted, but if you'd prefer you can send me a message on here instead. If you want my address, let me know :)

I'm so excited, guys, it's less than a month now! *dances*

Current Location:	Aston University, Birmingham, UK
Current Mood:	bouncy

I got to go to Accident & Emergency last night. It was epic fun taimz [ /sarcasm].

Basically, on Friday night (~ 11pm BST for those of you who are all about the specifics) I started getting this weird pain in/above/behind my left eye. It felt like my eye was really swollen and pushing against my brain, and both eye and brain were about to explode. This pain was lovingly partnered with constant vomiting (I couldn't even keep water down), hot and cold flashes and a major light sensitivity in that left eye.

I spent the whole night throwing up my dinner, then some white stomach lining type stuff and then some gorgeous green bile. This carried on almost continuously until about 8am on Saturday when my mum came in and gave me one of her Metoclopramide tablets. Basically, Metaclopramide stops you from physically being able to vomit. It did nothing for the nausea, the eye pain or anything else, but it provided me with adequate not-puking time to take a couple of co-codamol and knock myself out for some sleep. A few hours later, I woke up to the same pain and shivers and gubbins and started my vomiting all over again.

After choking down another Metoclopramide, we managed to get to my grandad's house (we don't see him very often and hell if I was letting some ridiculous virus stop me from seeing him). This was not a brilliant idea, considering he lives an hour away, but I donned an eye patch to keep the light out of my left eye and stop me moving it too much, and went to see him. He gave me some money for starting university, too, which was cool. On the way back, it wasn't getting any better, so my stepdad dropped myself and my mum off at the hospital emergency department (after a quick phone call to NHS direct to check that this would be appropriate) and we got me signed in and wristbanded and so on.

Then came the waiting. Oh, the waiting. I had to listen to an entire episode of Strictly Come Dancing.

I had my blood pressure, sugars, temperature, pulse etc. taken and they gave me some Ibuprofen and another anti-sickness pill. Then, more waiting. I'm used to this with hospitals, though, particularly emergency rooms.

Eventually, the doctor shouted me in. I swear, he looked about fifteen. He obviously wasn't, and he was actually nice and competent enough, he just looked really young. He asked more questions, checked my lungs for infection and felt my tummy, looked behind my eyes and (of course) couldn't find anything wrong. This was reassuring, and actually the main reason we were there - they ruled out infection (such as meningitis) or the possibility of it being anything in my eye or my brain, so it was nothing majorly serious. They wanted to keep me in for overnight observation, but I politely declined and came home to sleep.

My eye still hurts, but I haven't been sick today. My kidneys are killing from the dehydration from all the vomiting and my back is sore from hunching over. Other than that, I should be fine. I wish I knew what was wrong with my eye, though, it's driving me nuts.

That, my friends, is how I actually came to be wearing (and needing) an eye patch on International Talk Like A Pirate Day.

True story.

Current Mood:

sick