2017 decided to start with a sucker punch. Best laid plans and all that. Meh.
Husband Underfoot had been ill for quite a while before New Year, but being a stubborn bone headed male refused to go to the doctors. Gods forbid he miss a day at work with his servers. New Year was a bust, he was in so much pain he barely ate when we had lunch out and was in bed by 7pm. New Year’s Day – cue the argument. Boneheaded HUF refused to go for medical help until he’d been back at work a few days because ‘he was too busy’.
Yeah. He also couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t go to the toilet and could barely walk. So proposing to wait another 4 days before seeing the doctor was completely unacceptable. I had to deploy the weapon of last resort – tears. Well, I’d also deployed weapon no 1 – silence. That, plus WoLR managed to heap a whole pile of guilt on HUFfy’s shoulders and he agreed to go to the docs as soon as it reopened for normal hours.
Needless to say, the doctor bollocked him for any suggestion he should have waited any longer before seeking treatment. HUffy is on some pretty nasty medication for 3 forms of arthritis, one of the drugs being an experimental trial drug. Two of his drugs lower immune system functions, the 3rd eats your stomach away without proper care. The man also lives on the 3 C’s – chocolate, cheese and coffee.
Cue a day spent in emergency hospital hell. We were packed straight up to the People Processing Centre known as Cramlington Emergency Hospital which is a brand new building that’s been so badly designed you have to sit in waiting rooms shaped like bananas. And where you cannot avoid eye contact with anyone. Little circular pods everywhere. The staff kept losing people. Actually, the staff kept bursting into tears before taking blood with a ferocity that would scare vampires. I’m not sure they should have been allowed near humans with sharp implements.
Eventually I had to come home to make sure Jack the dog was ok (he was, but needed extra snuggies). HUFfy was finally chucked out at 9pm with several new holes in his skin, gallstones and a large packet of codeine. Operation pending. Cue second argument where I refused point blank to let him even begin to countenance taking annual leave for 2 days for his surgery…
So, 2017 officially sucks. And it’s only day 5. At least HUFfy’s doing a bit better and shuffled off to play with his servers today. While wondering what on earth he can eat (er, fruit? veg? fish?).
In all seriousness, I am very thankful he’s ok even if he does need further treatment. The NHS on the first working day back after NY has so much to deal with. The staff – excepting vampire nurse – were generally caring and professional – and actually, I think vamp nurse needed a hug and a mars bar. We are very lucky to have a free health care system that may takes it time getting to you, but eventually it does and the wheels keep on squeaking. As does HUFfy.
What this incidence does illustrate to us both is that Bat Fit actually is a good starting point for the year. More movement, better self care, no alcohol for some time and a re-evaluation of our diets (out go the 3 C’s). I can’t make him any less of a workaholic, but I can try to ensure he’s eating properly on an evening. I love the HUFfy goon and I’d quite like to keep him around. Even if I have to deploy the weapon of last resort on a more regular basis.