When I last blogged I was about to tell you about getting a replacement driver’s license. This was overtaken by events of an unusual kind.
I got the mother off all migraines and silly me thought it was just a migraine – so I toughed it out. But it got much worse.
I tried to see my primary carer –but he was not available. In fact one of his minders rang this very afternoon to see what he could do. I told her that events had passed him by six days ago.
I went to two medical centers. In one the was clearly a wait of some hours so I went home to bed and vomit. The next day I waited and saw the man and he gave me a shot – which did nothing – and pills –which also did nothing.
I returned to bed and passed the time vomiting on myself and the floor. The cats were wisely out of vomit range – but did keep me company – although they did start to lose interest towards the end.
By the time Cate got home I was a complete mess so said she should call 911. The nice young men whisked me off to the Methodist Hospital where I was placed in line with a group of desperate people – some of them very loud indeed.
Hours later they realized that I was in fact quite sick and organised a CAT scan of my head. This was when they discovered the ‘black spot’ and pulled Cate aside and suggested to her that this was the end for me and that she should organize our loved ones – which she did.
Hours later they then did an MRI expecting to find my body riddled with cancer. They found nothing. They thought that instead they might have an abscess on the brain. This was still life threatening - as it was pushing on important bits which I needed if in fact I was going to survive.
Discussions were held with numerous surgeons. I was apparently part of these but remember nothing at all. At that stage the life had effectively left my body and I had no further interest. Relief of pain was what I required.
Much later I was visited by a nice young man – who was about 18 years old and clearly on work experience – and he said that he would operate on me in an hour or so. I told him that he could whatever he liked as long as he stopped the pain.
I remember going into the operating theater and saying goodbye to Cate – who was very upset. I could not care less – my pain was about to end – and I did not much care how.