Asthmathic surfing
I apologize in advance for the graphic descriptions in this post. But if the abbrivation blog stands for weblog, this is something I want logged for future memory.
We had a pretty rough second week in Nora, my partying in the woods during the weekend left me with a very real cold, on tuesday, despite precautions, i got a hard dose of cat allergy and it didn’t help that L and A already were sick when I arrived from the party. (so what party you ask? in a later post..)
I am what you may call a calm person, I don’t get excited easily and that means i tend to stare adversity in the eye with a docile and indifferent… ok maybe not quite that bad but you get the point. So on wednesday evening as i was headed for bed I realized my breathing was pretty forced. This happens sometimes but almost never outside of pollen season, which why I travelling without my asthma medication. No big deal, just be calm and the morning will give plenty of time to go to the parmacy and use the refill on the prescription to get more meds. I never get anything near real asthma.
2am: I realize I can’t breathe while sleeping on my side, I have to stay on my back.
4am: I cough so much I have to get up and head for the livingroom sofa to give L and A some hope of sleep. I throw up from all the coughing. Feeling miserable of course, but opening hours are soon here, and despite not being able to sleep, all the nights with A has made me a pretty tough customer when it comes to lack of sleep. I still have things under control, its not scary just very tiresome.
5am: A short trip to the bathroom is much harder than expected. My body moves very slugghisly and I make the (correct) self-diagnosis that my body has too little oxygen. I relinquish all illusion of control and have the phone in my hand to dial 112 in a matter of seconds. The ambulance arrives 20 minutes later, and L later told me that the light-headed nature of my answers probably was the major reason for them to take me to the hopital instead of treating me on the spot. I pass out almost instantly as the oxygen mask is attached.
10.30am Lindesbergs Lasarett, trauma ward: 3 cans of oxygen, ventrolin, and some more hours on my back later. I have a clear throat, aching back and legs, I have gotten a short and at this point redundant lecture from the doctor on the value of taking prescribed medication. And I answer in short uncontrolled burst of speech due to lack of food, excess of pure oxygen and general fatigue. L picks me up a short while after, and we drive to the Pharmacy, where this story should have ended in the first place.
So in short, three cheers for the ambulance staff and the staff at Lindesbergs lasarett, who undoubtely had enough to do with the ongoing festival of Nora. And I leave the comment field open where you can call me an idiot. I know I feel like one.
