Chapter Fifty Two – “A Strange Week”

As I look back over this past week, I can say that the events have been somewhat unexpected. For one thing, I didn’t foresee myself being so ill as to be taking a week off work. It was a surreal experience to find myself spending Tuesday afternoon in my local A&E. But back to the beginning.

My feelings of discomfort started on Saturday afternoon, with a mild headache and a tickly cough. I thought nothing of it, took some painkillers and got on with my day. On Sunday the symptoms remained, but I coped well, actually rather enjoying my day – playing bass at church, then enjoying lunch and the generous hospitality of friends, including catch-up TV over beans on toast. However, that night I couldn’t get a wink of sleep. Time seemed to pass by so slowly as I lay there, waiting for the morning to arrive. By the time my alarm went at 8, I knew that the prospect of a fourteen hour night shift, in my current state, with a now persistent headache, was not wise. I phoned in. The rest of the day consisted of regaining my energy by catching up on missed television, and episodes of The Good Life (newly purchased), all the while keeping as warm as I could.

Monday night proved similar to Sunday night in that my headache largely prevented me from getting the rest I so longed for. After what seemed like an interminable night, I awoke to the illusion of feeling better – the ibuprofen I had taken at half past one had caused my headache to subside briefly. As such, I courteously phoned work and said I hoped to be back in on Wednesday. I went back to bed and arose at 11 to begin my day properly. I thought a shower would make me feel better, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Standing there with the heat and steam, everything suddenly went bright (as if one has stared into a light for too long) and I felt dizzy and somewhat nauseous. I was keenly aware I needed to get some air, and as soon as I had rinsed the shampoo from my hair (incredibly difficult, given the circumstances) I flung open the shower door and reached for my towel. The phone rang, and after a conversation filled with fatherly advice I made up my mind to see a doctor. How thankful I was to have Christian friends nearby! I didn’t relish the thought of walking to my GP surgery, so I phoned my friend and pastor, Tom, who was working nearby. Although he had a busy day ahead of him, he was happy to spare the time to help me, and we prayed together before I got out of his car. What a privilege to offer the situation to God!

As Tom drove away, I went into the surgery to find to my dismay that no doctor was able to see me – despite my emphatic pleas. The only options were Queen Mary’s Hospital, Roehampton, or the walk-in centre in Teddington. Reluctantly I made my way to Teddington, but it wasn’t a straightforward journey, requiring numerous buses and much walking. I arrived at the Memorial Hospital around midday, and when eventually one of the nurses called me in, they confirmed I had a raised temperature of 39.1°. I was reassured to know I was being taken seriously. They were unable to diagnose exactly what was ailing me, so they booked me a taxi and sent me with a letter of referral, to Kingston A&E. I didn’t expect to be returning like this, seeing the hospital from a different perspective – five years since I had last set foot in there.

At 2 I booked in to A&E, but it wasn’t until about 2:40 that I was seen by one of the junior nurses. Soon I found myself in Resus, where they put a cannula in my arm (gosh, this was getting serious) and asked me, yet again, to describe my symptoms and give my clinical history. Somewhat at a loss for words, being in a situation I hadn’t envisaged, I was soon wheeled into the Majors area, having left Resus for being “the healthiest patient in here”. I was promptly connected to an ECG and IV drip, before a succession of nurses and helpers came to do various checks and ask me things. I was thankful when a sandwich and drink came, as I’d left the house in a hurry and was greatly in need of sustenance. With no book or anything by my phone to keep me occupied,  I soon realised I would simply have to be patient and rely on the doctors and nurses – nothing for it but to rest. I couldn’t go anywhere! I was eventually sent for a chest x-ray at about 5:30, and wondered who I’d see – chances were high that the radiographer would be a familiar face, and it was. After a brief catch-up and assuming the all too familiar position, I was sent back on my way. Nothing alarming.

Soon I was informed that I would be fit enough to go. I had come down with a flu-like virus, and needed plenty of fluids, ibuprofen and rest. The doctor ordered me to drink plenty of fruit juices (easier to drink than water), and stay off work at least till Monday, having given my body time to recover. After one more IV drip, I said my thanks and phoned a taxi to take me back to the house.

Over the course of the next few days the weather was bleak, and I tried to follow my parents’ wisdom and go outside as little as possible, relying on housemates and friends to pick up supplies. My other friend Tom proved a big blessing, dropping by with immediate supplies of tablets and juice on Wednesday night. It felt strange relying on others, when the shops were so near, but I didn’t want to take any chances – not yet, anyway. Still, it was an example of the Christian family in action, a service of love. It was comforting to know such people were near for me, as I would be for them. Slowly my strength was returning and the next few nights proved headache-free and restful.

Looking back over the week, and looking towards the prospect of work tomorrow, I can honestly say I’ve been glad of the rest. I’ve also seen the practical side of the church (albeit from a small handful of people) and have been blessed by this kindness. My thanks go to all those who helped me this week, in whatever capacity, and particularly to God, my Heavenly Father, who sustained me when I was unable to help myself. Here’s to the future.