I have just come off of four very busy weeks at work (and was off two days in the last of the 4th week with a virus). I was thinking “yay, I have a week of peace before uni starts again for the semester”.
Fucking karma. (Or something.)
I left work early on Monday to go to physio. I’ve never been before, so I went to a student clinic because $40. Really nice receptionist too, we had a really good chat about what it’s like to work at different unis. Ended up being there for an hour and a half. I was going because my shoulder has been playing up since I wrote my final essay for last semester – I spent the day lying on it writing and it hasn’t been right since.
The student physio’s were great. They spent a lot of time diagnosing me, and ended up prodding down my spine (I’m sure it has a technical name but hey, I know squat about this) and found the exact parts that hurt. Apparently they felt very tight too. After identifying them, they spent some time therapazing me (I’m pretty sure that one is a technical term) and all in all, it ended up being an hour and a half. I had immediate increased range of movement, and have booked in a follow up appointment.
I wasn’t too stiff Monday evening or Tuesday, but I wouldn’t say I was comfortable either. A little stiffness but bearable.
Tuesday…well I had to leave work early on Tuesday too. I had to drive out to a compounding chemist (a chemist that actually makes drugs, not just dispenses them) for a custom infusion Ben’s GP wants him to try. Apparently it’s good at restoring energy in CFS, which may not be what he has, but it’s being treated that way for now while we wait to see specialists. My GPS tried to get me lost in a stupid industrial area, but thankfully the chemist has signs. $140 and a few minutes later, I was in my car with a big IV bag. A long commute home in thick traffic ensued.
Then we stashed the chicken IV in the fridge went straight out again to do the fortnightly grocery shopping.
Came home, had a quick dinner, then we took the chicken IV bag to the GP appointment at 8.20 Tuesday night. We got there right on time… and then sat there for 20 minutes. I was going to stay because of a very long story, but after that 20mins my back couldn’t cope with waiting room chairs so I left and went home. I was expecting the IV to take a max of an hour…but yeah. I didn’t hear from Ben for ages. Now, I get up early and therefore go to bed early. I spent ages trying NOT to nap on the couch. In the end, someone suggested I make some tea. So I did. Only I couldn’t find the lid to my mug.
Yeah, that’s the fucking lid, right there in my hand. I was literally walking around the house looking for it. I ended up going back at about 10.3opm and found Ben leaving the clinic at the same time I arrived. Score one for timing. Only…well…apparently no one noticed some of the vitamins weren’t in the IV bag but were supposed to be infused through it (or something) but they were in seperate vials. It was too late for the clinic to do anything about it.
Then Wednesday came. I got up, showered and was sitting under the heater letting it dry my hair. I wasn’t feeling great; not sick but just exhausted by the week so far. I considered just staying on the couch and resting. I felt like my body was screaming for rest.
But I did the “right” thing, I got up, and went to work. Ever since I hurt my shoulder, I’ve had to drive as close to the city as I can get free parking and stand on the train, because my shoulder can’t take being squished into a train seat with someone next to me. So I get to the inner city train station, get on a train, and woah, it’s pretty quiet. As in I can take a two-seater and not have a seat mate. Yay. So I sit. Bad choice. A few stations in, the train jerks and my head slams backwards into the train wall. Fairly hard. I may or may not have sworn out loud. Clearly I should have stayed home, right?
I let my head ache for about half an hour and it slowly gets over itself just as I get on the bus.
Then my week gets even better.
The short bus route ends near my work. I was up the back and one of the last off. I saw that the bus driver had parked so the back door was between the bin and a tree. Figures. He was speeding like a bit of a dick so it was kind of icing on the dick cake. I stepped off the bus and was on the ground. My left ankle had given out and rolled – the foot I had stepped off the bus with, so all my weight went crashing down. I had headphones on and was holding my phone, and hit the up button, blaring music into my ear. A guy behind me asked if I was ok, but I was trying to get the music down and I don’t know if I answered him. I stumbled/crawled – I don’t really know but somehow I got half the length of the bus to the bus stop seat and sat there in shock & holding my ankle in pain. The bus driver was off the bus, looking at me and talking on his phone, but never said anything to me and took off very soon after (I have lodge a complain as I’m pretty sure they’re not allowed to do that when someone is injured on their bus, having been on buses when similar happens).
I started crying at some point, from shock. A woman who I think had been getting a coffee presumably had seen it all and asked if I was ok. I told her it was just shock and I wasn’t seriously hurt. She made sure I didn’t have far to go, tried to buy me a coffee and left for her work. I called Ben and all I could do was cry, which freaked him the fuck out. I think he was thinking I had concussion from smacking my head or something. I spent maybe 10mins at the bus stop, and tried to stand. I could. I started walking towards work, as there’s a GP clinic on site. Again, some things about working at a uni are very convenient. It isn’t that far to the GP clinic but I had to walk so slowly and carefully that it took me about 20 mins. (Time sucks when you’re in an emergency/shock, but I was on the phone to Ben so I could judge by call lengths). I got to the doctors and filled in paperwork, and was seen straight away. The GP spent some time prodding (technical term) my ankle, trying to assess if it was broken or not. She thought not, but wanted to get an xray done just in case. The nurses wrapped my foot, gave me bandages and ice packs and I took a long hobble over to my building.
I spent the day sitting at my desk with my foot up, feeling tired and sore and miserable for myself. I left a little early to go get an xray. Ben came and met me at the xray clinic so I had someone to help me home/carry my stuff/cry to etc. Thank goodness for walk in appointments. Got it zapped, though it’s really hard to hold a sore and swollen foot still.
Then I had to hobble from the middle of Queen St Mall, all the way to the train station. Not far it you have two working feet, but crap otherwise. Thankfully it’s my left foot hurt and I drive an auto, so I can still get around in the car. As it was, I walked way too fucking far in the course of a very stationary day:
Woke up Thursday and my ankle was still puffy, in fact my iPhone couldn’t work out where to focus, so here’s a crappy photo from Thursday morning:
Thankfully it’s not horrendous, but it’s not comfortable and I was really unimpressed with how much I’d had to walk on Wednesday just to function on a minute level, so I decided that a full day of proper rest, ice and bandaging was critical. Naturally though, I had run out of antihistamines so as soon as the chemists opened I drove there and sent Ben in with an old box to buy me more.
Then I spent the day on the couch watching TV and eating M&Ms. I also worked out that 2omin sitcoms are great to watch when you’re icing your foot – because you’re supposed to ice injuries 20mins on, 20mins off. So instead of setting alarms, just remember one episode on, one episode off.
Tomorrow I’m going to re-attempt work and also go back to the on campus doctors to see if my ankle is broken or not. Then, after work, Ben has to go back to the doctors for the infusion of the stuff they forgot on Tuesday night. And just fucking hope that it’s still safe. I mean, the entire issue with this infusion stuff is that you’re supposed to buy it and use it within 24 hours. So I just don’t know about anything any more.
Look, I know shit happens. And I know it could be worse. But I feel like I can never catch a break and get some fucking rest. There is always something going on. Can someone send me to sit on an island for a week? I just want a complete break before I have a breakdown. I’m tired of being tired. I’d like to have energy to put into blogging and uni …heck, I’d settle for not being too tired to bath our smelly dog. (Yay for some warm days so we can bath her though.)