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Sorry, this is somewhat old news, I don't get onto my blog as often as I should.
Deb and I picked up some epic food poisoning, or possibly gastro, on the weekend of the 22nd and 23rd. We thought at first it was something we ate whilst at Healesville Sanctuary, but all we had there were some sandwiches we'd taken with us, the only suspect item in them being hummus, which is not known for that sort of thing. We did joke that maybe we'd caught it from a wallaby.
Turned out later that a little boy who came to visit us, and his parents, both had the same thing, so we probably picked it up from snotty kisses from him!
It kicked in for both of us about 10PM, almost at the same time. I was feeling a bit gurgly so I got up, had some epic diarrhoea. Then I had what Henry Rollins described as "that little voice in your head" the one that says "Be prepared because you might be ready to throw up!" Deb got out of bed a the same time, and was stuck in the loo when the Voice proved to be correct! I made it as far as the laundry sink before I lost my lunch. Literally, that's what made me think it was the sandwiches.
We were still feeling a bit crap at 2AM. Usually we'd ride these things out, but Deb is 21 weeks pregnant, and we ended up calling the Royal Women's, where we'll be delivering this baby, at about 2AM. They said we should come in.
Somehow I dragged some clothes and shoes on, and dragged my sorry arse out to the car. Deb trailed behind me, carrying a bucket just in case! We were both feeling equally crappy, but I at least wasn't nauseous so I drove.
They admitted us pretty quickly at the Royal Women's emergency, Deb was one of two patients waiting. I went to move the car from the short term parking outside the emergency room to, eventually, a spot on the street that was good till 7.30AM. By the time I wandered back they'd admitted Deb, and she'd done a technicolor yawn into the bucket!
They wired her up to an IV and checked the baby's heart beat. Which was fine, we'd only been sick for a few hours so it wasn't like the bub had time to get distressed. The fluid went into her arm really fast. I tried to sleep a bit on two chairs and a pillow, without much success.
After Deb had already absorbed two thirds of the litre of fluid, she made me take myself next door to the Royal Melbourne emergency room because I looked like death. The Royal Women's couldn't treat me because, as the nurse put it, I didn't have boobs!
I dragged myself to the Royal Melbourne. It must have been about 4AM by this point. They gave me an anti-nausea drug and told me to wait. Which is typical of my (limited) experience of emergency rooms - I wasn't bleeding to death, so they got me to sit down.
There's nothing more depressing than an emergency room at 4AM. There were maybe five other people there, several of whom were trying to sleep. I sat around for the better part of two hours, listening to the same news headlines over and over on the droning TV. For the record, I don't care about Kate's boobs.
I ended up trying to get comfortable lying on a set of three seats, which I'm almost certain were specifically designed to make this difficult. Eventually, around 6AM, Deb was discharged from the Royal Women's, and I was still waiting to be seen. Fairly typical of an emergency room - the first and only time I was ever admitted via emergency was when I had a kidney stone in 2009, and that was quick partly because I was in terrible pain and partly because I was admitted to a private hospital. Which I regretted later when I got the bill!
I entertained myself while I waited in my usual way - tweeting. It was interesting, in a way, to see the people I follow who are in other timezones tweeting away. And the number of my people who I know here who were awake and tweeting at 5AM.
I went and asked the charge nurse where I was in the queue. I'd made it up to second spot. But since I hadn't barfed in about eight hours and my digestion was sort of under control, I took my leave of the hospital and Deb and I dragged ourselves home. I got back into bed about 7AM, which is typically when I get up!
We slept for most of Monday, only getting up to go to a long scheduled ultrasound. In all I think we spent about 18 hours in bed that day.
Deb and I picked up some epic food poisoning, or possibly gastro, on the weekend of the 22nd and 23rd. We thought at first it was something we ate whilst at Healesville Sanctuary, but all we had there were some sandwiches we'd taken with us, the only suspect item in them being hummus, which is not known for that sort of thing. We did joke that maybe we'd caught it from a wallaby.
Turned out later that a little boy who came to visit us, and his parents, both had the same thing, so we probably picked it up from snotty kisses from him!
It kicked in for both of us about 10PM, almost at the same time. I was feeling a bit gurgly so I got up, had some epic diarrhoea. Then I had what Henry Rollins described as "that little voice in your head" the one that says "Be prepared because you might be ready to throw up!" Deb got out of bed a the same time, and was stuck in the loo when the Voice proved to be correct! I made it as far as the laundry sink before I lost my lunch. Literally, that's what made me think it was the sandwiches.
We were still feeling a bit crap at 2AM. Usually we'd ride these things out, but Deb is 21 weeks pregnant, and we ended up calling the Royal Women's, where we'll be delivering this baby, at about 2AM. They said we should come in.
Somehow I dragged some clothes and shoes on, and dragged my sorry arse out to the car. Deb trailed behind me, carrying a bucket just in case! We were both feeling equally crappy, but I at least wasn't nauseous so I drove.
They admitted us pretty quickly at the Royal Women's emergency, Deb was one of two patients waiting. I went to move the car from the short term parking outside the emergency room to, eventually, a spot on the street that was good till 7.30AM. By the time I wandered back they'd admitted Deb, and she'd done a technicolor yawn into the bucket!
They wired her up to an IV and checked the baby's heart beat. Which was fine, we'd only been sick for a few hours so it wasn't like the bub had time to get distressed. The fluid went into her arm really fast. I tried to sleep a bit on two chairs and a pillow, without much success.
After Deb had already absorbed two thirds of the litre of fluid, she made me take myself next door to the Royal Melbourne emergency room because I looked like death. The Royal Women's couldn't treat me because, as the nurse put it, I didn't have boobs!
I dragged myself to the Royal Melbourne. It must have been about 4AM by this point. They gave me an anti-nausea drug and told me to wait. Which is typical of my (limited) experience of emergency rooms - I wasn't bleeding to death, so they got me to sit down.
There's nothing more depressing than an emergency room at 4AM. There were maybe five other people there, several of whom were trying to sleep. I sat around for the better part of two hours, listening to the same news headlines over and over on the droning TV. For the record, I don't care about Kate's boobs.
I ended up trying to get comfortable lying on a set of three seats, which I'm almost certain were specifically designed to make this difficult. Eventually, around 6AM, Deb was discharged from the Royal Women's, and I was still waiting to be seen. Fairly typical of an emergency room - the first and only time I was ever admitted via emergency was when I had a kidney stone in 2009, and that was quick partly because I was in terrible pain and partly because I was admitted to a private hospital. Which I regretted later when I got the bill!
I entertained myself while I waited in my usual way - tweeting. It was interesting, in a way, to see the people I follow who are in other timezones tweeting away. And the number of my people who I know here who were awake and tweeting at 5AM.
I went and asked the charge nurse where I was in the queue. I'd made it up to second spot. But since I hadn't barfed in about eight hours and my digestion was sort of under control, I took my leave of the hospital and Deb and I dragged ourselves home. I got back into bed about 7AM, which is typically when I get up!
We slept for most of Monday, only getting up to go to a long scheduled ultrasound. In all I think we spent about 18 hours in bed that day.
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