Can you believe it! Gout in my left hand!!!!!
On Wednesday, Pam, a dear friend from Newcastle, came down by train to spend the day with me. We started off by going to a cafe in Westfield while we worked out what we'd do for the rest of the day. She was showing me photos of her grandchildren when a severe pain suddenly grabbed my left hand, like a vice, from the wrist to the finger tips.
Within seconds, it seems, the blood drained from my face and I thought I would pass out. Pam and another kind cafe patron tried to prop my head against the wall, then both of them ran to a nearby medical centre. A doctor and nurse came running to the cafe and the first thing the doctor said was, 'Get her onto the floor.'
I was so pleased to hear that, as I was finding it next to impossible to remain upright on the chair, and just wanted to lie down and die! Somebody had called Westfield security, who in turn called the ambulance. Once they had all arrived it grew a bit crowded inside the little cafe.
All the medicos thought I was having a heart attack, as I'd had a bypass 25 years ago, and that was the most likely thing to be happening. But I kept saying, 'My left hand, my left hand. Excruciating pain.'
Eventually, after having provided a floorshow - literally - for the other patrons, I was taken to Hornsby hospital by ambulance. I cannot speak highly enough of everybody concerned. Not a single complaint do I have about our health system: it's magnificent. I was examined, then placed in a short-term care ward, where I remained overnight.
Philip came from work to take Pam to the station that afternoon, then fetched me home the following morning. Westfield made no charge for my car left in their carpark overnight.
The pain has gone but I feel pretty washed-out today. From the time I got home from hospital to this morning, I had slept more than 13 hours. Sleep seems to be my reaction to any problem.
Within seconds, it seems, the blood drained from my face and I thought I would pass out. Pam and another kind cafe patron tried to prop my head against the wall, then both of them ran to a nearby medical centre. A doctor and nurse came running to the cafe and the first thing the doctor said was, 'Get her onto the floor.'
I was so pleased to hear that, as I was finding it next to impossible to remain upright on the chair, and just wanted to lie down and die! Somebody had called Westfield security, who in turn called the ambulance. Once they had all arrived it grew a bit crowded inside the little cafe.
All the medicos thought I was having a heart attack, as I'd had a bypass 25 years ago, and that was the most likely thing to be happening. But I kept saying, 'My left hand, my left hand. Excruciating pain.'
Eventually, after having provided a floorshow - literally - for the other patrons, I was taken to Hornsby hospital by ambulance. I cannot speak highly enough of everybody concerned. Not a single complaint do I have about our health system: it's magnificent. I was examined, then placed in a short-term care ward, where I remained overnight.
Philip came from work to take Pam to the station that afternoon, then fetched me home the following morning. Westfield made no charge for my car left in their carpark overnight.
The pain has gone but I feel pretty washed-out today. From the time I got home from hospital to this morning, I had slept more than 13 hours. Sleep seems to be my reaction to any problem.
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