it's all a bit of gall

just becuase the week hadn't been eventful enough already I decided yesterday that a trip to casualty would just about finish the day off nicely.

It had been a busy thursday in the week of Becci Brown...

9am-lecture on sociology and science according to Durkheim
10am-finish off essay and print it out, tidy room and read Bible
11.30am-seminar-great discussion on patricachy during the industrial revolution through to today
1pm-lunch, catch up with housemates, check email and write update on 'man situation' in blog
3pm-meeting with Bill and Adrian for Bible study and CU planning chat...

3.30pm-during Bible study, pain under ribs kicks in. It's a familiar pain, been coming and going for the last year...usually passes within half an hour, all will be well. Probably been too busy, not sleeping, eating properly, all that nonense.

4.00pm-time for my lecture. by this point i am sweating and shaking with pain. Go to my lecture and sit with my friend Bobby who tells me I'm being ridiculous. 10 minutes later as i almost pass out I'm inclined to agree

To cut a long story short I walk, bent double to NHS drop in (not registered with Dr.something u only ever aren't when you need it) in tears: 'please help me, I'm not feeling so good...' A really nice Australian Doctor orders me a taxi and gives me £5, to get me to casualty, with a note of diagnosis.

The taxi driver says to me 'ah rebecca, you not feeling so good, you in pain, i get you to hospital very quickly.' this was now rush hour and the traffic was heavy. needless to say what should have taken an hour took about 20 minutes...

With only £5 (and £1 coin in my purse) I was aware that that wouldn't cover the journey. 'How much?' I tentatviely ask. Praying I will have enough. 'Just give me six pounds.' Thanks God.

In A&E I got to be a 'major' (which I think meant I was in enough pain) had all my tests complete with a tap left in my arm for easy access to my blood...ew... And I get one of those cool plastic braclets with my name and date of birth so that I don't forget who I am. An hour later I'm lying on a bed waiting for test results, feeling gross and in walks my knight in shining armour...a star...a wonder....a ray of light. (ok that maybe going too far, he wanted a good mention!)...my good friend jon with humour and wit (and a handy i-pod filled with funky tunes) to see the patient through those next long, painfilled, dark (ok now I'm being melodramatic) 5 hours of waiting for someone to collect my wee which I'd obliged with 2 hours previously, and to tell me my test results. He got bored and just as I was entertaining him with a 'doctor doctor' joke, the doctor walked in. oh what timing.

Diagnosis? they're almost 100% convinced I have gall stones and the pain I have intermittently is of one leaving the gall bladder. That just must have been one king-size stone. I had kind of half known about this before but as I hadn't had the pain for about 4 months I reckoned it wasn't. And now I know. So, after a long waiting list looks like for the first time in my life I'm gonna be cut open. Oh yes.

And why this story took so long to tell when I could have just said 'i went to casualty with terrible pain, I have gall stones.'??

For sympathy. of course.