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The Drugs Don't Work III
Dec. 28th, 2005 07:40 pmAm having to type this standing up.
Went to the emergency clinic at the Royal Berkshire Hospital on Christmas Day (at a time that coincided with the all-important Doctor Who, so I missed it). Was proscribed the strong painkiller Dihydrocodeine, which makes me feel sick and therefore averse to taking it, and a course of Flucloxacillin in case it's a bacterial infection.
Saw a new GP this morning. The thing I liked about him was the 'I heart Iraq' badge that he wears on his lapel, because he's from Baghdad. Everything else didn't go so well. Knee is now swollen up like a grapefruit, and alternates between a dull ache and a sharp throb, like now. He thought it worth trying to get a fluid sample from under the knee, which I cautiously consented to, but which ended with an empty syringe and me howling in agony with a needle an inch and a half inside my swollen knee. He apologised afterwards for this futile effort, but it has to be said that he has a very minimalist approach to the kind of bedside manner one hopes for from a GP. Had a blood test instead, the results of which should be available tomorrow, and we'll take it from there.
I keep trying some mild physiotherapy to bend the knee a little more, which usually works without additional pain and it feels things are actually on the mend, but then while attempting to walk I inevitably twist it the wrong way and I'm back to square one, unable to move. I'm not looking forward to tonight, and most unusually for me, I feel my age right now.
Enough of me whingeing, I suggest you go look at some pictures of cute kittens and feel happy.
Went to the emergency clinic at the Royal Berkshire Hospital on Christmas Day (at a time that coincided with the all-important Doctor Who, so I missed it). Was proscribed the strong painkiller Dihydrocodeine, which makes me feel sick and therefore averse to taking it, and a course of Flucloxacillin in case it's a bacterial infection.
Saw a new GP this morning. The thing I liked about him was the 'I heart Iraq' badge that he wears on his lapel, because he's from Baghdad. Everything else didn't go so well. Knee is now swollen up like a grapefruit, and alternates between a dull ache and a sharp throb, like now. He thought it worth trying to get a fluid sample from under the knee, which I cautiously consented to, but which ended with an empty syringe and me howling in agony with a needle an inch and a half inside my swollen knee. He apologised afterwards for this futile effort, but it has to be said that he has a very minimalist approach to the kind of bedside manner one hopes for from a GP. Had a blood test instead, the results of which should be available tomorrow, and we'll take it from there.
I keep trying some mild physiotherapy to bend the knee a little more, which usually works without additional pain and it feels things are actually on the mend, but then while attempting to walk I inevitably twist it the wrong way and I'm back to square one, unable to move. I'm not looking forward to tonight, and most unusually for me, I feel my age right now.
Enough of me whingeing, I suggest you go look at some pictures of cute kittens and feel happy.
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