Running on two hours sleep
Our youngest daughter arrived in the living room late last night doubled up in pain. We’ve been here before. After giving her ibuprofen and paracetamol she was showing no improvement. Half an hour later we were at accident and emergency at our nearest hospital.
She was seen by the nurses within the first couple of hours, who tasked her with providing a sample. An hour later she had her blood pressure checked, and a sample of her blood taken for analysis.
And then nothing.
The clock ticked relentlessly on - past three, four, five in the morning. The sun came up.
At half past six we cut our losses, and began the journey home - hoping to get her to the local doctor first thing this morning (har har). Attempting to call the local doctor means you’re doing battle with a town filled with septuagenarians that have the doctor on speed-dial.
We were home by seven in the morning, and immediately went to bed - hoping to grab at least a couple of hours sleep before work. The call to the doctor succeeded in booking her in at lunchtime.
We still don’t know what caused it. We never figured it out last time. I have suspicions though. A heavily meat-skewed diet (fruit and vegetables are a battle with her), supplemented by energy drinks. Enough to spectacularly screw anybody’s body up.
Somehow I made it onto the work team calls this morning. I’m not quite sure how. I must have looked like hell. I still do.
Although I’m “here”, I’m not really. I’m watching the hours tick down, and then I’ll probably crash and sleep straight through to tomorrow.