Being sick. Not for the faint hearted

After a couple of days of blood tests, cannulas, flushing and injections it sure is nice to be free.

I made it out of a 3 day sentence in hospital. Not actually that long, but it sure felt longer. It's no fun being in pain and made to pay for that by masquerading as a pin cushion. Ok, so ED nurses can inject morphine IV, ward nurses must do it subcut. A bit more unpleasant. For those who wish to know, IV is intra-venous as in through the cannula or through the IV line. Subcut means sub-cutaneous which is into the skin.

It seems that, after about 15 years absence, an old acquaintance of mine has decided to reappear. I have a kidney stone. But it took ED, several consults and several hours to determine that.

And not to mention several doses of morphine. Which, I discovered when I broke my ankle, also makes me sick. So go the sick bags! Which reminds me, I wonder if I can get any of those from the chemist or some such. They are sooo much better to keep in the cupboard in case the loo is occupied when emergency strikes.

The room they sent me to was coloured like I have never seen a hospital room. It was egg yolk yellow walls, dark teal/blue doors with no glass panels, and a single bed. Yep, the only bed they had for me was a private room. And I always go public system. But at least this time I managed to get some sleep. Because I didn't have to share with a very noisy dementia patient.

But it seems the stone has moved on through to the bladder, so I am hoping that for the duration, I will be pain free. Follow up with the clinic in about 2 weeks. If things haven't improved by then, I don't know what, if any, further treatment lies in wait.

And I am off work till mid next week. Early next week I am supposed to be minding a booth at an exhibition which I didn't want to do. Now, I'm off sick for that time. How sus does that look?

Surpise, surprise, surprise

On a side note, and completely unrelated matter to the subject heading. It wasn't a brilliant beginning to my arrival home after work last night. Pulled into the driveway, and tried to climb out of the Elder's car. Fair enough, it's an old bomb. A volvo to be precise. Somewhat high riding. And I am only little. But I did a Cinderella and left my shoe in the car. Unintentionally. Once I retrieved that, I stepped on something soft. Heavens! I'd dropped my jumper and hadn't known. So I stepped off it, and bent to retrieve it. I straightened with it in my hand, but it wouldn't lift properly. I was standing on the sleeve......

But surprises reigned today. My boss sidled up to my desk, carrying a brown paper bag. Luckily I was actually on a work page, not something like this. And he presented me with a bottle of wine in appreciation for effort I put into organising a meeting. As part of the conference.

And I have been assured that this one tastes really good if you let it breathe. Yes, it's a red. Shiraz Cabernet. And I can put it on my shelf with the bottle I was given for serving on the conference committee. A sparkling white. Alas, I cannot share them with my neighbour. She is no longer my neighbour. But I know she would have appreciated them......

The second surprise today was a bit more of a shock. No, wait...... a boss who rewards you with a bottle of wine rates pretty big ....... I was checking my personal details on the payroll system. So they would be up to date for the sending of group certificates. And lo, there were several payslips I hadn't checked. We receive ours electronically. Through the HRIS (human resources information system). And the latest one was totally whack. Completely full of rubbish. Adjustment this, adjustment that. I freaked. But, I asked, have we had a pay rise? One of the GT didn't think so, but made darned sure his most recent read the same as the previous. After a bit more than a mild dose of panic, I contacted our HR liaison. Nope, I had been underpaid. For about 2 years. The auto update that the HRIS was supposed to do. Never occurred. So now I have a beaut bonus, and so does the tax man........

Teenagers scare the living S* outta me.....

I'm not really a bad mother. At least, I'm sure I'm not. Never mind that the Teen is one of those Emos everyone warns you about. Well, not quite. She's not straight edge, she styles herself as scene.

And I admit, sometimes she has issues with depression. How many teens these days don't? And with a family history, what chance has she got?

But now, MOTH and I have to have an interview with a concerned teacher. In a way I suppose I am glad that the teacher has taken an interest. But I am not sure what to expect from the interview. Or meeting. He apparently has some issues with her mind set, although nothing drastic. He would just like to have a talk to get things sorted before it becomes an issue in the future. Now what does that mean?

And to make things worse, this child is changeable. The face she shows to others is not the same face she shows to her father. I see a different one again. Having this discussion will be like discussing 3 different Teens. I am really not certain how this meeting will turn out.

For those who are interested, a definition for scene can be found here - specifically point number 2, which, to all intents and purposes, sounds a lot more intelligent than point 1.

Seems that urban dictionary is as gospel as Wikepedia........