Vagueness and the Aftermath - A sporadic diary

[The_nun]

Morning all.

Huge thanks to everyone who sent their best wishes, it was much appreciated.

My heart attack, like most people's I suppose, came out of the blue. I mean I suppose it could have been expected, I have a terrible family history with 2 grandparents, my mam, dad, and two younger brothers all having had one. But unlike most of them, I had no other risk factors. No high blood pressure, no high cholesterol, no diabetes, non-drinker, no fags this century. I sleep well, and I'm rarely stressed, (Unless I've been golfing with tikay, but that's another story)

So there I was at about 3 in the afternoon, sitting on the settee, sport on the telly and the laptop open. I had just entered a $25 bounty hunter and a $15 freezeout, (I usually play $5 or $11 max so quite high stakes for me)

Suddenly... CRUNCH! Pain like an enormous pair of pinchers squeezing my chest, and even more pain shooting down both arms.

I knew immediately what was happening, and I knocked on the bathroom door where Mrs Red was cleaning..

Me: I'm having a heart attack.

Her: I'm having a heart attack who?

I quickly convinced her that I wasn't joking and she dialled 999. They told her that it would be quicker to take me to the hospital than to wait for an ambulance. We recruited our eldest daughter as driver and off we went, me doubled up in the rear foot well, Mrs Red on the seat brushing my hair soothingly with her foot.

We had a choice between The Royal hospital in Leicester, or the George Elliott in Nuneaton. We chose the GE because it's smaller and usually less busy.
When we got there A&E was absolutely rammed, every seat taken, people sitting on the floor, a long queue at the admissions desk..
I staggered past the queue and grunted, "Heart attack" to the nurse behind the glass.

The NHS is totally wonderful and I love it to bits. It's also teeth-shatteringly infuriating and I could run amok with a sledgehammer, smashing everything to pieces.

At this point, the wonderful part kicked in, a porter appeared with a wheelchair and whizzed me off to a cubicle where I was hooked up to an ECG machine, had a cannula inserted, blood taken, was given tablets, injections, and had stuff squirted under my tongue. In no time the pain started to ease, going from an 8/10 to about a 4 in a few minutes.

Presently, Mrs Red, who had been giving my details to the nurse at the desk arrived and asked what was happening. The doctor told us that I had been treated for a heart attack because of my symptoms and the ECG indications and they were now waiting for the results of my blood test. They were looking specifically at troponin levels. Troponin is a protein that is released into the bloodstream when the heart muscle is damaged. If the count is over 6 that means it's elevated. Mine came back at 38.
"Wow!" I said, 38, what happens now?"
They assured me that 38 wasn't particularly high, but that they needed to measure it again in 2 hours because if there is damage, it would continue to increase for 12 hours.

The next reading was 577. At this point, the teeth shatteringly infuriating NHS took over.


TBC.

So very sorry to read this Tom. Sending much love.

[Kev B]

Morning all.

Huge thanks to everyone who sent their best wishes, it was much appreciated.

My heart attack, like most people's I suppose, came out of the blue. I mean I suppose it could have been expected, I have a terrible family history with 2 grandparents, my mam, dad, and two younger brothers all having had one. But unlike most of them, I had no other risk factors. No high blood pressure, no high cholesterol, no diabetes, non-drinker, no fags this century. I sleep well, and I'm rarely stressed, (Unless I've been golfing with tikay, but that's another story)

So there I was at about 3 in the afternoon, sitting on the settee, sport on the telly and the laptop open. I had just entered a $25 bounty hunter and a $15 freezeout, (I usually play $5 or $11 max so quite high stakes for me)

Suddenly... CRUNCH! Pain like an enormous pair of pinchers squeezing my chest, and even more pain shooting down both arms.

I knew immediately what was happening, and I knocked on the bathroom door where Mrs Red was cleaning..

Me: I'm having a heart attack.

Her: I'm having a heart attack who?

I quickly convinced her that I wasn't joking and she dialled 999. They told her that it would be quicker to take me to the hospital than to wait for an ambulance. We recruited our eldest daughter as driver and off we went, me doubled up in the rear foot well, Mrs Red on the seat brushing my hair soothingly with her foot.

We had a choice between The Royal hospital in Leicester, or the George Elliott in Nuneaton. We chose the GE because it's smaller and usually less busy.
When we got there A&E was absolutely rammed, every seat taken, people sitting on the floor, a long queue at the admissions desk..
I staggered past the queue and grunted, "Heart attack" to the nurse behind the glass.

The NHS is totally wonderful and I love it to bits. It's also teeth-shatteringly infuriating and I could run amok with a sledgehammer, smashing everything to pieces.

At this point, the wonderful part kicked in, a porter appeared with a wheelchair and whizzed me off to a cubicle where I was hooked up to an ECG machine, had a cannula inserted, blood taken, was given tablets, injections, and had stuff squirted under my tongue. In no time the pain started to ease, going from an 8/10 to about a 4 in a few minutes.

Presently, Mrs Red, who had been giving my details to the nurse at the desk arrived and asked what was happening. The doctor told us that I had been treated for a heart attack because of my symptoms and the ECG indications and they were now waiting for the results of my blood test. They were looking specifically at troponin levels. Troponin is a protein that is released into the bloodstream when the heart muscle is damaged. If the count is over 6 that means it's elevated. Mine came back at 38.
"Wow!" I said, 38, what happens now?"
They assured me that 38 wasn't particularly high, but that they needed to measure it again in 2 hours because if there is damage, it would continue to increase for 12 hours.

The next reading was 577. At this point, the teeth shatteringly infuriating NHS took over.


TBC.

So very sorry to read this Tom. Sending much love.

Was just a scratch Mo  😁

[The_nun]

Morning all.

Huge thanks to everyone who sent their best wishes, it was much appreciated.

My heart attack, like most people's I suppose, came out of the blue. I mean I suppose it could have been expected, I have a terrible family history with 2 grandparents, my mam, dad, and two younger brothers all having had one. But unlike most of them, I had no other risk factors. No high blood pressure, no high cholesterol, no diabetes, non-drinker, no fags this century. I sleep well, and I'm rarely stressed, (Unless I've been golfing with tikay, but that's another story)

So there I was at about 3 in the afternoon, sitting on the settee, sport on the telly and the laptop open. I had just entered a $25 bounty hunter and a $15 freezeout, (I usually play $5 or $11 max so quite high stakes for me)

Suddenly... CRUNCH! Pain like an enormous pair of pinchers squeezing my chest, and even more pain shooting down both arms.

I knew immediately what was happening, and I knocked on the bathroom door where Mrs Red was cleaning..

Me: I'm having a heart attack.

Her: I'm having a heart attack who?

I quickly convinced her that I wasn't joking and she dialled 999. They told her that it would be quicker to take me to the hospital than to wait for an ambulance. We recruited our eldest daughter as driver and off we went, me doubled up in the rear foot well, Mrs Red on the seat brushing my hair soothingly with her foot.

We had a choice between The Royal hospital in Leicester, or the George Elliott in Nuneaton. We chose the GE because it's smaller and usually less busy.
When we got there A&E was absolutely rammed, every seat taken, people sitting on the floor, a long queue at the admissions desk..
I staggered past the queue and grunted, "Heart attack" to the nurse behind the glass.

The NHS is totally wonderful and I love it to bits. It's also teeth-shatteringly infuriating and I could run amok with a sledgehammer, smashing everything to pieces.

At this point, the wonderful part kicked in, a porter appeared with a wheelchair and whizzed me off to a cubicle where I was hooked up to an ECG machine, had a cannula inserted, blood taken, was given tablets, injections, and had stuff squirted under my tongue. In no time the pain started to ease, going from an 8/10 to about a 4 in a few minutes.

Presently, Mrs Red, who had been giving my details to the nurse at the desk arrived and asked what was happening. The doctor told us that I had been treated for a heart attack because of my symptoms and the ECG indications and they were now waiting for the results of my blood test. They were looking specifically at troponin levels. Troponin is a protein that is released into the bloodstream when the heart muscle is damaged. If the count is over 6 that means it's elevated. Mine came back at 38.
"Wow!" I said, 38, what happens now?"
They assured me that 38 wasn't particularly high, but that they needed to measure it again in 2 hours because if there is damage, it would continue to increase for 12 hours.

The next reading was 577. At this point, the teeth shatteringly infuriating NHS took over.


TBC.

So very sorry to read this Tom. Sending much love.

Was just a scratch Mo  😁

Hope you are looking after that scratch well so it doesn't turn into  a 
 into a deeper cut. X

[RED-DOG]

The more mature readers amongst you will no doubt remember Andrews Liver Salts. Well I saw some today, and they have lost the liver and are now just called, "Andrews Salts". What's that about, has liver become un PC, or has society become too genteel to be confronted by such a visceral word?

As far as I recall, Andrews Liver Salts was a laxative. The slogan on the tin was, "For inner cleanliness". The instructions read, "Add two tablespoons to a glass of water for constipation or one tablespoon as a refreshing drink". (The second option sounds a bit risky)

On the new pack, advice about of toilet activities has been replaced by, "For indigestion and upset stomach".

The "Refreshing drink" aspect has been dropped altogether.

Click to see full-size image.

[Kev B]

The more mature readers amongst you will no doubt remember Andrews Liver Salts. Well I saw some today, and they have lost the liver and are now just called, "Andrews Salts". What's that about, has liver become un PC, or has society become too genteel to be confronted by such a visceral word?

As far as I recall, Andrews Liver Salts was a laxative. The slogan on the tin was, "For inner cleanliness". The instructions read, "Add two tablespoons to a glass of water for constipation or one tablespoon as a refreshing drink". (The second option sounds a bit risky)

On the new pack, advice about of toilet activities has been replaced by, "For indigestion and upset stomach".

The "Refreshing drink" aspect has been dropped altogether.

Click to see full-size image.

I used to love this as a refreshing drink. One spoonful obviously.

[RED-DOG]

I was too accident prone to risk it.

I was once caught short out in the fens, not a tree or a bush as far as the eye could see, so I jumped down into a dike that would be deep enough to hide me once I had assumed the position.

Unfortunately when I landed at the bottom, Newton's first law came into play. I stopped, but the contents of my rectum continued on it's downward trajectory.

That was an uncomfortable journey home.

[Kev B]

I was too accident prone to risk it.

I was once caught short out in the fens, not a tree or a bush as far as the eye could see, so I jumped down into a dike that would be deep enough to hide me once I had assumed the position.

Unfortunately when I landed at the bottom, Newton's first law came into play. I stopped, but the contents of my rectum continued on it's downward trajectory.

That was an uncomfortable journey home.

🤣🤣🤣