DivideBYZero
Lifer
Yesterday I got out of hospital after 12 days and 11 nights. I'm still recovering from the ordeal and I'm just glad to be alive more than anything else.
I know this board hates long posts, but for once, I'm going to ignore the ADD sufferers:
On the 11th of June I went out to Saudi Arabia to do a 10 day stint for a contract we have with Aramco. All went well for the first five days and I was settling in to the oppressed way of life.
I went to Bahrain for the weekend with some colleagues, we went out, drank beer and generally had a good time. Come Friday night it was time to return to SA for the start of the new working week. I started to get a very sore throat, but thought it could just be the after effects of a headonistic weekend. The next day the sore throat became worse I and called in sick, just to see if it would clear in the day as these things often do. The next day it was so sore I had lost my appetite and was finding it hard to even swallow water, so I arranged transport to a hospital.
The diagnosis was Tonsilitis. I had an idea this was the case, as I could see they were in bad shape in the mirror, let alone with a stick and a light like the doc. I was prescibed antibiotics(note this), a mouth wash and a couple of other erroneous tabs for decongesting and other crap. I thought it was overkill as I the only other time I had Tonsilits I just had the Augmentin(antibiotic).
I spent the next four days feeling very unwell and with no appetite, as I could not swallow without extreme pain. I wallowed in my hotel room, waiting for the drugs to kick in, but, it seemed, to no avail. In the last two days, I did try to eat, as I knew I was hungry, but the pain was spoiling my appetite. It seemed as if nothing was working.
Finally the day for me to fly home came up. My ticket had not been transferable and I did not think I was unwell enough to get a new ticket and claim on insurance. I made my way by taxi to Bahrain and caught my flight. At this point, I was feeling like a deam man walking. Like I was about to fall asleep standing where I was. I toyed with the idea of bumping to business to make the 7 hour flight more bearable, but the £300 extra was too steep, even for my weary body.
The flight was not all bad, except the food. Penne pasta was never meant to collapse under the weight of a plastic fork. It was inedible. I landed at Heathrow and instantly felt better. The rush of being home really was kicking in. In my appartment that night, I started to feel much better and well again. I even ate and retired to bed.
I awoke at 4:30am. Partly because I was still on SA time, and the work day starts early anyway there. I still felt good and went back to sleep. At 5:30 things started to go very wrong. First I had intestinal cramps and then diarrhea. I instantly blamed the sausages I had cooked the night before, even though they were fresh and I cooked them right through. After this, I though nothing more of it. Later on I started getting really strong cramps, but further up my torso, under my rib cage. These attacks felt like I was being cut in two by wire or stabbed, my body contorted into the fetal position while a primal scream came from my tortured mouth.
I called the national health hotline after one of these attacks cause me to pass out, hitting my head on the way down. This was at around 12pm. They suggested I see a Doctor in the next 2 hours. I saw one in 45 minutes. She examined me and was not 100% sure that is was anything more than Diarrhea, but I could sense the concern in her voice. She suggested I visit Hospital, but I declined, thinking that it would just be a waste for a case of the sh1ts.
Later at home I was drinking electrolite(sp) to counter the effects of the symptoms and I get a call. I was to far from the phone, so I left it. An hour later I decide to see who called. I didn't know the number, but it was local, so I called it back. It was the Doctor. She convinced me to got to the Emergency Room, which I did.
Upon arrival I was fast tracked though to the treatment area. In the next 5 hours I was put on a drip, had blood tests, chest and abdomen xrays and a CT scan. I had a bleeding spleen and was losing blood internally!
They decided not to operate, but to treat it consevatively. This is because the spleen was not ruptured, but bleeding into the outer sack that it has. Over that night and the next I had 5 units of blood and countless fluid drips. I was then committed to 10 days complete bed rest. It turns out that my heamaglobin level was at about 6.x ,when it should be a 12-13.x. I can only assume that this was extremely bad!
So what caused my spleen to spontaneously pop? Glandular fever. Often misdiagnosed as Tonsilitis in the early stages. Over the next 10 days I also learned that if you have Glandular fever and have been on antibiotics, you get a very nice all over body rash.
So, I'm recovering at home now for the next 2 to 3 weeks, putting weight back on and not lifting of over exerting myself in any way. I still have a spleen, which is nice. If it had been removed I would have had to take Penicilin ever day for the rest of my life and have 10 year injections to prevent common illnesses.
It truely has been a very unpleasent experience. Don't even ask about the catheter...
I know this board hates long posts, but for once, I'm going to ignore the ADD sufferers:
On the 11th of June I went out to Saudi Arabia to do a 10 day stint for a contract we have with Aramco. All went well for the first five days and I was settling in to the oppressed way of life.
I went to Bahrain for the weekend with some colleagues, we went out, drank beer and generally had a good time. Come Friday night it was time to return to SA for the start of the new working week. I started to get a very sore throat, but thought it could just be the after effects of a headonistic weekend. The next day the sore throat became worse I and called in sick, just to see if it would clear in the day as these things often do. The next day it was so sore I had lost my appetite and was finding it hard to even swallow water, so I arranged transport to a hospital.
The diagnosis was Tonsilitis. I had an idea this was the case, as I could see they were in bad shape in the mirror, let alone with a stick and a light like the doc. I was prescibed antibiotics(note this), a mouth wash and a couple of other erroneous tabs for decongesting and other crap. I thought it was overkill as I the only other time I had Tonsilits I just had the Augmentin(antibiotic).
I spent the next four days feeling very unwell and with no appetite, as I could not swallow without extreme pain. I wallowed in my hotel room, waiting for the drugs to kick in, but, it seemed, to no avail. In the last two days, I did try to eat, as I knew I was hungry, but the pain was spoiling my appetite. It seemed as if nothing was working.
Finally the day for me to fly home came up. My ticket had not been transferable and I did not think I was unwell enough to get a new ticket and claim on insurance. I made my way by taxi to Bahrain and caught my flight. At this point, I was feeling like a deam man walking. Like I was about to fall asleep standing where I was. I toyed with the idea of bumping to business to make the 7 hour flight more bearable, but the £300 extra was too steep, even for my weary body.
The flight was not all bad, except the food. Penne pasta was never meant to collapse under the weight of a plastic fork. It was inedible. I landed at Heathrow and instantly felt better. The rush of being home really was kicking in. In my appartment that night, I started to feel much better and well again. I even ate and retired to bed.
I awoke at 4:30am. Partly because I was still on SA time, and the work day starts early anyway there. I still felt good and went back to sleep. At 5:30 things started to go very wrong. First I had intestinal cramps and then diarrhea. I instantly blamed the sausages I had cooked the night before, even though they were fresh and I cooked them right through. After this, I though nothing more of it. Later on I started getting really strong cramps, but further up my torso, under my rib cage. These attacks felt like I was being cut in two by wire or stabbed, my body contorted into the fetal position while a primal scream came from my tortured mouth.
I called the national health hotline after one of these attacks cause me to pass out, hitting my head on the way down. This was at around 12pm. They suggested I see a Doctor in the next 2 hours. I saw one in 45 minutes. She examined me and was not 100% sure that is was anything more than Diarrhea, but I could sense the concern in her voice. She suggested I visit Hospital, but I declined, thinking that it would just be a waste for a case of the sh1ts.
Later at home I was drinking electrolite(sp) to counter the effects of the symptoms and I get a call. I was to far from the phone, so I left it. An hour later I decide to see who called. I didn't know the number, but it was local, so I called it back. It was the Doctor. She convinced me to got to the Emergency Room, which I did.
Upon arrival I was fast tracked though to the treatment area. In the next 5 hours I was put on a drip, had blood tests, chest and abdomen xrays and a CT scan. I had a bleeding spleen and was losing blood internally!
They decided not to operate, but to treat it consevatively. This is because the spleen was not ruptured, but bleeding into the outer sack that it has. Over that night and the next I had 5 units of blood and countless fluid drips. I was then committed to 10 days complete bed rest. It turns out that my heamaglobin level was at about 6.x ,when it should be a 12-13.x. I can only assume that this was extremely bad!
So what caused my spleen to spontaneously pop? Glandular fever. Often misdiagnosed as Tonsilitis in the early stages. Over the next 10 days I also learned that if you have Glandular fever and have been on antibiotics, you get a very nice all over body rash.
So, I'm recovering at home now for the next 2 to 3 weeks, putting weight back on and not lifting of over exerting myself in any way. I still have a spleen, which is nice. If it had been removed I would have had to take Penicilin ever day for the rest of my life and have 10 year injections to prevent common illnesses.
It truely has been a very unpleasent experience. Don't even ask about the catheter...
