Super drama day
Ever wanna feel more like an artiste? Well, I swear I'd never want such an experience again. Woke up as usual, engage in my mandate morning routine. Barely did I know the ache in my abdominal manifested into an unendurable distress within half an hour.
Of course, I didn't take it lightly as the pain had resurfaced since yesterday morning. Without delay, I dragged myself to the neighborhood's family clinic where the GP gave me painkiller jab. Came home with even more painkillers. Drank plenty of water as the doctor ordered. Turns out, the sting in my abs got unbelievably worse than ever.
My overly-concerned granny (thank god for blessing me with such family who loved me so dearly), kept asking questions on how I feel, what is wrong when I am literally curling up in a ball, trying all positions to relieve the pain. And you know elderly, she keeps suggesting solutions, and complained about my great aunt not being around (since she was the one who's well-versed in dealing with such emergencies). My dog ran in and out of my room, and the morning TV outside was loud in volume by my unemphatic uncle. Sigh. It was chaotic scene. Like some crazy settings by some manic scriptwriter.
Call it premonition. I arrived back from my trip from the clinic with contemplations if I should just present myself at the nearest hospital. The crap continued outside the room, I prayed for everything to go away but no avail. Intolerable, I hurled myself out of bed, changed, grab the prescriptions, a jacket and cabbed to TTSH solo. My granny wanted to go, I felt bad really, but the pain was killing me, it left my no choice but told her I can't have her following me without having to worry for another.
Going to the A&E wasn't something I can't handle. As a matter of fact, I've been to TTSH in the middle of the night when I had dengue. Was there for two hours and back without anyone noticing I was missing during their sleep (but then, the dreadful fever dragged on for the subsequent two weeks).
Today was different, it was super-dramatic. Next thing, i had my aunt calling me and tail-gating me to TTSH. We waited, I was in series of sharp tummy pain (all in my mind, I was cursing, "hello, I'm in agonising pain, why are you not entertaining me"). I suppose, God had been listening, he did intervene and sent me this handsome medical officer. I related my condition, accounted my morning jab from the family clinic and even shown him the prescriptions I received. The bare minimum I could do is to feed the doc with all the background information and have him assess and advise. After consulting a senior, he injected me with a even stronger painkiller and before I knew it, i was out for two hours.
The lab results for my urine examination arrived after another 30 minutes after having me rot in bed in the observation room. It seemed my prediction powers were scoring all morning. I texted a dear friend, worried if it's kidney stones. Turns out, the test shown traces of blood, which upgraded me to become a patient suspected of kidney stones. Good thing? Nothing's pretty confirmed until my next appointment for the Intravenous Urogram.
Clara "barked" at me for not taking care and edict me to drink the entire ocean. Colleagues kept telling me to rest well and not worry about work. There were sweet messages. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate all these wholeheartedly. Yet I back-trek past events of dengue, spraining of shoulder and now this, am I really that vulnerable?
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