I bruise easily!

Just for reference, this isn’t about Natasha Bedingfield. It’s actual bruises (and a healed surgery wound). If you’re squeamish, you may not want to look. Also fair warning, most of the bruises are caused by needles, so if you’re not good with those either, run away. (For what it’s worth, I’m pathetic when it comes to needles.)

Excessive bruising on slight contact is a characteristic of HMS. It isn’t apparent in every patient, but it definitely does for me! I’m not sure why it happens, but it’s probably to do with the fact that our blood vessels aren’t as strong as most, so they damage easier. I’m often covered in coffee table bruises, door handle bruises, and I-have-no-idea-where-that-is-from bruises!

Generally I cover these bruises up, people feel uncomfortable when they see them and ask awkward questions. (Ranging from “What did you do this time?” to “So, your partner… is he an angry man?”- don’t get me wrong, I’m glad for the awareness on the part of people in cases of potential domestic violence, but it’s not the case here!)

So, why do I bother sharing these unglamorous photos? Because I feel pressured to cover up my bruises because people stare, because of the questions. I’m always covered in bruises or scrapes, all over my arms and legs so I wear long sleeves /trousers to cover them up. I also won’t wear vest tops (unless I’m with very good friends) because I have eczema and dermatitis scars on my upper arms. I have stretch marks all over my back, stomach and legs so I cover those too.

I’m tired of being covered up. It’s uncomfortable and unpleasant, and I don’t want to do it anymore. I’ve spoken to lots of people about it, and I’m going to be brave. No more covering myself up. Nobody’s perfect!

I’m going to try to be okay with the way I am.

Love from your battered & bruised,
but hopeful little Hypermobile Hobbit.

I’ve always bruised quite badly, but I will share some beauties from post-surgery now. (For reference, the Surgery was the 30th June.)

2 days post-surgery:

Blood sample bruises 2nd July

Blood sample bruises 2nd July

Cannula Bruises! 2nd July

Cannula Bruises! 2nd July

3 days post-surgery:

Blood sample bruises 3rd July

Blood sample bruises 3rd July

4 days post surgery: At this point my fingers also swelled like crazy!

Cannula bruises 4th July  (Happy Independence America!)

Cannula bruises 4th July
(Happy Independence America!)

Seriously swelled up fingers! 4th July

Seriously swelled up fingers! 4th July

Blood sample bruise 4th July.

Blood sample bruise 4th July.


Nerve block injection site bruising – lots of holes!!!

1 week post-surgery: The blood sample bruise was really painful by now, affecting how I could rest my “good arm”.

Blood sample bruises 7th July.

Blood sample bruises 7th July.

Blood sample bruising (wrapping around my wrist!) 7th July.

Blood sample bruising (wrapping around my wrist!) 7th July.

Cannula bruises 7th July - almost all better!

Cannula bruises 7th July – almost all better!

The stitches were removed on the 7th, one week after surgery. It wasn’t fun, but I may blog about that later. I was a bit surprised the incisions were so tiny! They had healed up nicely, and I was finally allowed to have a shower!!!

9 days post-surgery: There was surprisingly little bruising around the incisions, a lot of swelling though! The vertical line in each case was the incision, and the horizontals were stitches.

The front scar - 9th July

The front scar – 9th July


The back scar.

Two weeks post-surgery: By now the blood sample bruise is yellowing, so is harder to get photos of, but extends from my thumb to my elbow, and wraps half my wrist. It took about 3 weeks to fade, but photo’ing your own arm when you only have one functional arm is tough, so I stopped.

Blood sample bruise. 14th July.

Blood sample bruise. 14th July.

18 days post-surgery: I started to get bruises on the backs of my legs, just below my knees. This was because I wasn’t able to lift myself out of chairs or up from sitting on the bed easily, so my knees were hyper-extending to compensate and pushing the furniture.

Calf bruise  16th July

Calf bruise 16th July

20 days post-surgery: The problem is, if you keep hitting the same area, the bruises get worse…

Calf bruise 20th July.  What a beauty, right?

Calf bruise 20th July.
What a beauty, right?

On the plus side, the horizontal scars have faded pretty quickly.

Scar 20th July

Scar 20th July

3 weeks & 1 day post-surgery: The bruises on my legs were fading, mainly because I was being super-careful.

Calf bruise 24th July

Calf bruise 24th July

So, that’s some epic bruises on me! The calf ones are literally just repeated pressure, so it’s easy to see how huge bruises can be created from repeat small pressure on people who bruise easily. They took about 2 weeks to clear up, because I kept repeatedly catching my legs (lightly) when balancing myself.

On the day of the surgery

Trigger warnings –  trypanophobia (needles, cannulas, surgery) & emetophobia (vomit)
(But to be fair, what else would you expect from a surgery-themed blog post?

The surgery was taking place in a hospital not far from my home. I had to be on the ward at the hospital by 7 AM. Being the usual anxious person I am, we got the bus very early and arrived at 6:30. This cause a slight problem because inside hospital was ridiculously hot, (Why on earth did I end up having elective surgery on the one day that there was a heatwave?!) and there wasn’t really anywhere else to wait, or so we thought. There’s actually a lovely little community garden provided by the friends of hospital which was a nice place to wait while I was busy panicking about the upcoming surgery. There was nobody else around so I could just sit and panic quietly with my partner.

The hospital garden

The hospital garden

The day was beautifully sunny and the weather did ease my anxiety a little.

Dead on 7AM the ward opened and I was taken into the seating area and instructed to wait. I was only there for maybe 5 min. before I was called into the preparation ward.


My very own little waiting station!

I was told I was first in the lists however this can change depending on the order the surgeons want to do the surgeries in, but my preoperative checks were done quickly including diabetes checks, blood pressure and heart rate and other things such as pregnancy tests. They all came back fine and I’ll talk to settle in for the wait. Thankfully the area I was waiting in was actually quite nice; there was a TV with Freeview and a comfy chair for me to wait in.

I was visited by the doctor who had referred me for the surgery in Fracture Clinic (still no sign of my consultant!!) and an anaesthetist. I expressed my concerns about being awake for the surgery due to my fear of needles (or anything piercing my skin for that matter) am I worried the local anaesthetics may not work me due to my HMS. Beneath that is reassured me that he could sedate me enough that I wouldn’t notice what was going on, and that he would test the anaesthetic effect before anybody was allowed to go near me with anything sharp. I admit I did panic quite badly, and how to a bit of a cry, but I think that’s understandable under the circumstances.


Hospital socks!

I was told to change into a gown, and was given some snazzy socks (with tote grips on both the tops and the bottoms) to wear to keep my feet warm. The anaesthetist begged me to sit on my hands to keep them warm because I have dreadful circulation. I did this and wiggled my hands regularly, and to my surprise some veins actually did show up.

I think I was taken in for surgery at about 9:30AM, leaving my partner behind. You actually walk through from the prep ward to the anaesthetic area and are put on a reclining bed. (For the procedure, your arm needs to be in a dropped position) On this short walk through very cold corridor, all my veins promptly disappeared. The anaesthetist was very nice, he was there with a trainee, and he really tried hard to get everything done first time. Unfortunately this didn’t happen, my cannula went in incorrectly the first time which is horrifically painful, but the second time round it went in fine. I was quite surprised that I was actually okay with the cannula because it’s flexible, so I wasn’t worried about it breaking. I was given something to make me drowsy, I’m assuming it was a sedative. After this point everything becomes a little bit fuzzy(!)

I was given the spinal nerve block which is a local anaesthetic affecting vertebrae in your neck. It consists of several injections to various places within your neck however they put one needle in and then move it around while inside your neck, assisted by ultrasound to see the tissues. This is one of the weirdest compliment I’ve ever had. The anaesthetist said “You’ve got really beautiful tissues, it’s fairly common in patients with EDS, but yours have a real flow.” Odd right?!

Anyway, the nerve block was injected and my hand started to feel tingly, then it felt heavy, then the sedatives really started kicking in. I should point out I’ve never been drunk in my life but I’m fairly certain that’s what it feels like. The whole world was moving slowly and my body was less responsive, my voice sounded different and they started making fun of me because I became really Bristolian. The anaesthetist stood to my side and told me to give him a high five with my right hand (the non-anaesthetised one) which I could do. He then told me to repeat this with my left hand. That was actually impossible. I could just about wiggle my fingers, but that was all.

They waited maybe 5 min. for the nerve block to take effect fully, by which point in time I was pretty damn doped. This is where my consultant showed up – I have never seen him before in my life – he showed up and said “Hi I’m Mr. *name redacted* and will consultant but I’m sure we’ve met before”. I responded “I’ve never seen you before, I’ve always seen junior doctors, I’ve been wondering if you even existed.” He chuckled at me, I hoped he thought it was funny because otherwise I could’ve ended up with some serious scars in stupid places. He went to go set up and the nice anaesthetist came back and wheeled me into the operating theatre.

All the theatres at this hospital were recently refurbished, and I have to admit they were actually very nice. I expected them to be really scary that they were just rooms. There was a lot of people and a lot of equipment, but the sedative meant I didn’t really register any of it at the time. I had oxygen mask put on me, and they painted my shoulder to my elbow with iodine to disinfect it for surgery. This felt really bizarre because I could see it happening but couldn’t feel it. As I have stated I didn’t want to see the surgery happening, they took my glasses off me and put up a sheet to obscure my vision. That’s the last thing I remember.

I came to on the way to recovery at about 11:30AM, and was only in there for maybe 5 min. until I was awake and talking, then I was moved to the orthopedics ward. When I got the ward they started doing observations on me every half hour, and requested that I drink things and try to relax. Trying to coordinate your hands when you’ve been sedated is very very tricky and the nurses had to help me drink for the first half hour or so. At about 1 PM lunch arrived – unfortunately nobody had told anybody that I was supposed to be there for lunch so I was given cheese sandwiches and ice cream. This was fine but a bit of an odd combination.

I have to admit these first four hours after surgery were magical, I was in absolutely no pain for the first time in about 15 years. Looking back at this is quite depressing, because I didn’t realize how huge a part of my life pain has become, but I’m glad I did get to experience it even if it’s just for a short time.

The physiotherapist visited me on the ward and showed me how to put on this fancy immobilizing sling and what I was allowed to do as far as exercise was concerned (not a lot!!). Technically after this (and having made a trip to the bathroom, because them’s the rules with surgeries!) I should have been allowed to go home. One of the nurses phoned my partner at about 2 PM to tell him that I would shortly be able to be released. He spent the rest of this saga sat next to my bed, being very patient but very bored and quite hungry.

Sling back

Sling back

Sling front

Sling front

This is where the problems started…

My pulse rate was registering 112 BPM. This is technically tachycardic. The nurse wasn’t happy that my pulse rate wasn’t lowering even several hours after surgery so she alerted the doctor on site at about 4 PM.

My pulse rate is high naturally, I’m not sure if this is an HMS thing or fibromyalgia thing, or simply an anxiety thing but my resting pulse rate is usually about 85-90. For those who don’t know about pulse rates this is pretty damn high for a young person, especially since my blood pressure is neither high nor low.

I was pleased that they were being cautious however I was also really bored and wants to get home before the real pain kicked in (or rather the real painkillers ran out). The doctor came and checked me over at about 5:30PM and decided he wanted to do blood tests. This is tricky because most of the back of my right hand was taken up from bruises from the cannula(s) and my left hand was now in a sling. My elbows are pretty damn bad for finding veins as they lie very deep. He decided to take the blood from a vein going down the side of my wrist with my thumb. It turns out this is a really painful place have blood drawn from and it bruises like hell (photos will be provided!!).

There was a small problem here because the on-site testing had closed for the night so my sample had to be sent elsewhere. This seems a little bit stupid but I appreciate that this hospital tends to be mostly for outpatients or chronic long-term patients so I can see why the cost-cutting measure has been undertaken. Either way I was sat there waiting for my blood sample to be analysed and to be cleared to leave until somewhere around 10 PM. At this point I started to get a temperature, and the nurse who was taking my observations said that she was a bit concerned about this. Thankfully the doctor came along and signed the discharge forms before he could see the temperature, and I simply didn’t mention it.
All this time I was provided with ibuprofen & paracetamol, however I believe the painkillers used during surgery had not fully worn off yet. The pain started to rise around 11 PM once I got a taxi home. I’ve been given tramadol, ibuprofen and paracetamol as my painkillers for my aftercare. I had stated that tramadol gives me extreme nausea and vomiting, so I was also given ondansetron which is a strong anti-emetic.

Because we arrived home really late, I didn’t even eat dinner. We scaffolded up the bed with pillows and I fell asleep pretty promptly from exhaustion. As such I didn’t get chance to take the painkillers. I woke up early the next day, at about 7 AM and took ibuprofen & paracetamol, for the first few doses to assess how bad the pain actually was. Sleeping proved to make the pain worse so I decided to take tramadol at night. This was a really bad idea because I don’t know if any of you have ever tried to balance on hypermobile feet and knees with one arm in a sling while trying to throw up while high on tramadol but is pretty difficult! This is even with the ondansetron, rather than preventing the emetic effect it simply delayed by four hours.

I was promised a phone call from the ward to discuss pain relief “a few days after surgery”. I had assumed this would be 2 to 3 days after surgery. I waited for this rather than bothering my GP or the emergency care provision. This was quite stupid as the call actually happened 10 days post-surgery. In the end I yielded four days after surgery and went to the emergency clinic in the city centre to discuss pain medication, and they suggested that the only viable medication for me would be over the counter codeine. This has kind of worked, but not brilliantly and definitely didn’t work very well for the first few days. I was taking an awful lot of medication as you can see from the recycling pile that was accruing in him wastepaper basket. (Even with all the pain, I still recycled!)


I have my stitches removed one week after surgery, and my sling removed four weeks after surgery. I ended up signed off for four weeks, however I am still not back on campus working due to an error in the dictation software I need as I cannot type with both hands still. This has been driving me a little bit insane, because I have had to physically restrict what I do in my everyday life generally I define myself quite a lot by the job I do. Not being up to do this has made me feel a bit of a failure – even though I expected it. This was a bit of a surprise to me.

I think that’s all I’m going to tell you all tonight, I’ve been recording everything with photos – so there will be scars and bruises in the next post, but there’s nothing too gross – it has healed well, but I have a highly limited range of movement and lots of pain. Oh, and forgive spelling errors – blame Dragon Dictate!

Sleepy time now,

Hypermobile (although less so now) Hobbit!!

MRI results!

I finally got an MRI two weeks ago. It was done at the medical school attached to the hospital, because the MRI dept were having some technical difficulties with their machine. It meant that instead of having nice nurses talking me through it all and chattering away merrily, I had two PhD students who mostly talked to my partner about his Physics degree, and who spoke in such mumbled tones through the microphone that I couldn’t understand a word they were saying! (I honestly don’t know which one it was talking really, and considering one was male and one was female, and they were from different continents, that’s saying something!!)

It was pretty OK, other than the fact they didn’t offer me a blanket to keep warm, didn’t explain what was going on, and had to re-scan three times (I think) because I moved. I moved because when you put a person with an injury in a painful position, they tend to move! Especially if they have cramp-inducing conditions such as HMS! Bad patient relations. They didn’t even tell me their names. Have they not heard of #hellomynameis? Silly people! This is what happens when non-patient-relation people are put with patients without supervision. I get that they’re students, but if I didn’t know what it was going to be like, if I was claustrophobic, if I had no idea why the machine keeps making quite scary alarm noises – then I’d have been terrified! They didn’t ask me at all if I was scared, and they knew it was my first time in an MRI machine. I wasn’t that impressed all told. The problem is, I can’t very well write to the PALS service because these guys aren’t hospital employees, and aren’t covered by it.

I got the results back on Tuesday. My GP said “We have a positive result.” Which I took to mean there was something there on the scan. She meant positive, like “good”. All my tendons are fine, no fractures, no cartilage damage, no membrane damage. Apparently there’s a small effusion (liquid pool) in my knee, but that’s totally normal and shows up on anyone. I did point out that the day they scanned, I hadn’t moved a lot in order to minimise discomfort in the scanner, so it didn’t hurt a lot that day anyway. So the verdict is… there’s nothing really wrong with my knee. (Or if there is something wrong, it’s soft tissue).

That’s not as comforting as it should be. It means I’m being sent back to physio *again* only this time, it’s with a new physio. One I will probably have to teach about HMS because they won’t have heard of it… even though I alerted the triage person to it when I called up for the referral. I’d rather there was something actually wrong almost, because then I would feel vindicated in the fact I have been totally unable to do pretty much anything for the past two months. I’ve been relying on the crutches so much I have bruises on my palms, damage to my back and shoulders and a fairly manky looking scab on my knuckle. Sometimes having a rare condition is an absolute pain in the ass. I get so tired of constantly having to explain it’s not like arthritis, it’s not “just being bendy” and it’s definitely not me faking it. I hope and pray that this physio magically turns out to be one of those awesome NHS employees that hide away in corners, diligently doing their job very well and hiding from all the ridiculous bureaucracy. If she’s like my first physio who did friction massages on  the tendons inside my shoulder. Yep, he popped my shoulder partially out of it’s socket, and rubbed the internal tendons with his thumb. It’s one of the most painful things I’d ever experienced, up until this knee injury.

I suppose I should be glad that my knee is fixable. I’m not going to be stuck this way forever. But then I was told there was a 6 week wait for physiotherapy, which made me want to just sit on the floor and cry. I was going to be left for 6 more weeks sat in this state, in pain and not really knowing why?! I was angry, frustrated and tired. And worse than all that, I knew that the injury was all my fault in the first place. I knew the weather was bad, I heard the lightning when I was leaving, and I didn’t turn back.

Thankfully, someone in the heavens seems to like me, and the physio called me up to “fill up her calendar”. My first appointment is tomorrow afternoon. She’d better not break me, else I’ll make her carry me home.

I’ve got a whole bunch of stuff to do in the morning, including picking up £25 of shopping centre vouchers I won off the City Council for completing a survey about my opinions on additional licensing for Houses of Multiple Occupancy. (Should landlords who buy up cheap houses and convert them into student lettings pay a premium rate of council tax, basically.) If I get a job, that money might get spent on fun things. If not, then it’ll get spent on food. If I do a lot, then my leg will hurt and she’ll see what the damage is! That’s my plan anyway. I’m not going to do anything excessive, just a small half hour walk to the train station. I’ll bus it back like a good disabled girl! I’ll even use my crutches to minimise the damage!

The house move was a success too. We’re almost completely unpacked. My partner, bless him, moved nearly everything by hand, with the aid of an awesome friend of ours.

Oh, and I modelled for a trainee hairdresser and now have a (and I quote) “Sexy swinging A-line bob”. I shall try to put up some photos later.

Striving for stability.

We are moving house on Saturday. Nearly my whole everything is packed in boxes… We don’t have enough boxes. I am hoping that if I go to volunteering in the morning then it will all fall into place.
We have also just been told that there are 2 viewings arranged for the day we move. Just what we need!
My leg is still busted. I can move stuff around the house but the pain flares if I put much weight on my leg.
Tomorrow I am off for my first advisor meeting for jobseekers. It turns out I have been put in for contribution based jobseekers, not income assessed jobseekers, so they can’t pay me. I hope to get this sorted tomorrow.
I have to book a doctor’s appointment for next week as a check up for my leg and my painkillers. My MRI is next week too.
I really hope I get the PhD place, that this flat all comes together and that my leg fixes so I can get into a proper routine again.
I just want a normal week really.

Getting there!

More packing done, legs feel like they are going to drop off.


I do have a rather nice bruise-blister on my thumb from my crutches.


At least the tramadol is mostly working, even if I do feel like a pill popping granny.


Can’t wait to move, unpack and just finally rest. We still haven’t got a contract or signed anything. I guess we will get there… Eventually!
I have to admit I am excited about being able to make the new place all cozy. We will be doing it on a budget, so there will be a lot of second hand, upcycling and craft. I want to reclaim my mosaic stuff from my family home to make coasters and stuff. Maybe some embroidery and stuff. I will definitely photo my efforts for you, my loyal followers. You deserve a pretty reward after listening to me whine about my knee for two months!
PhD application will be sent off tomorrow. Wish me luck! Keep things crossed for me, since I can’t cross my fingers anymore. 🙂

I have an MRI appointment!!!!!

The title kinda gives it away, huh? I’ve got an appointment for an MRI on my knee , 2pm on 19th September. That makes it nearly 2 months since the initial “incident” or “accident” or “trauma” or whatever they want to call it. It crosses my mind that if I didn’t have good friends and an outstanding partner to help me, I’d have run out of food in the first week. I’d really struggle to have done the shopping since it took 6 weeks before I got any real painkillers. 

I hope that nobody gets stuck like that, and that everyone has friends and neighbours that would help them out if they were stuck in that situation.

I’m always up for helping neighbours, even if I barely know them, because I’d like to think they’d do the same for me. My friends say it’s because I come from a village (even if it’s a village inside a big city) and everyone knew each other, so everyone helped. I think it’s because I’m fundamentally nice.

Anyway, now I have an appointment on the horizon (even if it’s only days before the interview!!) and I can more or less walk without crutches if I’m careful for the PhD interview (I hope!). If all else fails, by then I should hopefully know what I’ve done. I’m planning on submitting my PhD application tomorrow. 

The side effects of the tramadol have calmed down a bit, still feel a bit dizzy, and poor temperature control, but it’s ok so long as I don’t have to leave the house!

Pain medication that works!

So, I went back to my GP, and she actually apologised for how messed around I must feel, being bumped from one service to another and struggling to get my pain recognised.

I’ve been given Tramadol to deal with the injury pain, but I’m taking very little of it. The type of injury I have mostly hurts in the evening and at night (gets worse with activity basically), so I’m only taking it with dinner and before bed. Paracetamol will cover me for the rest of the day. 

I’ve also been suffering with fibromyalgia flares because I can’t do the physio I normally do to keep it all under control. Generally, my fibro is quite mild, but it grabs onto any little “over-tense” or sore muscle and will make it into agony. As it is, I can’t do my physio which is causing my shoulders to sublux in my sleep again, and causing a lot of general physical tension from over-work. As such my fibro’s going crazy and everything is exhausted and hurt. To treat this, I’ve been put on low dose amitriptyline which is a low dose tricyclic antidepressant. In low doses it’s been proven to be advantageous for people with neuralgic pain such as fibro’ as well as insomnia.

The two medications together aren’t ideal, but I’m taking them under supervision of my GP, and she says I should be fine. I slept properly for the first time in 6 weeks last night, which is amazing. I woke after 2 hours feeling totally refreshed and wonderful, but with a shoulder that totally wasn’t in it’s socket – so I put it back in and fell asleep again.

My plan is to get up whenever my body wants me to tomorrow, and hopefully I’ll feel a bit less worn out generally. I plan to list a lot of eBay stuff, do some speculative job phonecalls (because the job centre told me to – even though it won’t get me the kind of job I’m after!) and polish off my PhD application.

One of the blogs I read mentioned the use of music for pain management. I’ve put together a playlist on Grooveshark of all the songs I liked when I was a teenager, before my legs fell apart on me, and I’m going to try listening to that and see what happens. I’m mostly a wuss-rock kinda girl.

Hopefully once I get used to the meds, my body will learn how to regulate temperature a bit better and I’ll be less of a sweaty betty and more inclined to blog.

Not so lonely.

Today, I am stuck in bed with pain (both the leg injury and a fibro flare), but also nausea and stomach cramps from the codeine last night.
Previously I would get really depressed because I hate sitting being useless, but also because I’d feel really isolated and left out. I knew of no other 20-somethings who were laid up with pain and side effects as much as me. I felt like it was my fault because I was the only one like this.
But then I started blogging, because I wanted to share what its like to live with a body that won’t work when you’re still young… And what did I find? All you guys blogging out there sharing advice, care and support in a similar situation to me.

Thank you all.

I’m going to have a nap now.

The verdict…

The problem with this service seems to be actually getting an appointment. Once that was done, the NEMS team were very kind.
I was driven in the ambulance (minibus) to the out of hours doctors. The driver was very friendly, the ride was quick. When I arrived, the driver booked me in. It was a very cold building, and be t time (because it probably will happen again) I shall take a jumper.
I will admit to having a slight anxiety flare at the piles of grey disposable bowls everywhere for patients as it set off my emetophobia a bit, but I sat far from anyone else and buried my nose in news articles.
Anyway, I was seen my the emergency GP within 10 mins. He did active and passive motion tests, tested the swelling in my knee, and he gave me a provisional probable diagnosis of frayed cartilage.
As such, I must not under any circumstances compress the joint. No tubigrip, no lying on it.
The GP has told me to take a full dose of zapain, and go in tomorrow to my normal GP asking for better pain relief, and to think about taking amitriptyline to aid with my fibro symptoms. It could be worthwhile as these injuries keep triggering more fibro pain and exhaustion. I will think about it in the morning.
The emergency GP is going to fax all his notes to my GP and ask them to chase up the MRI for me, because this needs treatment quite soon. Not just because of the pain levels, but also to prevent further damage.
The pain is still there, but the anxiety is reduced a bit. The emergency GP explained things a lot better and discussed medications with me. We discussed gabapentin and decided it wasn’t the way to go.

Here’s hoping I get some proper painkillers tomorrow. Or at least they cut my leg off. Preferrably the first one… You don’t get one legged hobbits.

I am going to have some tea, rest and call the GP in the morning.
Night all!

Useful Out of Hours care?

I have had enough of the pain and difficulty. I have reached the end of my tether, and after all, my GP said “If it gets worse, go to A+E”. It is definitely worse. 

I called the 111 service, was asked a lot of odd questions and was told I’d get a call from my out of hours care provider. 

I got that call and was told, and I quote “We won’t deal with you as you’re not an emergency, and the walk in clinic won’t as it’s not a minor illness or injury.”

Useful, eh?

I didn’t go into A+E when I first did it, I waited to go to my GP as it wasn’t a severe enough injury. She told me to go to A+E if it gets worse. I call the advice line and they say that I have to go back to my GP. I already know she’ll tell me to go to A+E. 

Either there needs to be a fast-track referral for severe injuries that interfere with day to day life, or the emergency staff need to broaden their remit a little and realise that accidents can have longer term repercussions.

I am absolutely livid that they weren’t more helpful, and I’m going to A+E tomorrow anyway because I NEED treatment. I am in so much pain and the pain relief doesn’t work. Being on crutches is doing more damage than good – my hands are injured, my back is injured, my other leg is starting to struggle with the strain.

For the love of God, will someone please treat me!?!!!!

Edit… Called up 111 again, they put me through to a paramedic, and she put me through to a NEMS nurse. She was useful and I am now waiting on organised transport to the out of hours emergency GP.

Wish me luck!