Hospital Heartache

Yesterday morning, what was meant to be a simple, routine visit to the doctor turned into...well, the opposite of that. I casually mentioned I've been getting pains in my heart lately, expecting the response to be something like; "That's because you're a lazy bitch" (in medical terms, obviously). I thought wrong. My doctor practically got whiplash as she turned to look at me and bombard me with questions. She proceeded to call the hospital and write a letter. I craned my neck to see what she was writing on the envelope. Emergency Department.

This whole thing wouldn't have been as bad if she wasn't doing that concerned-doctor thing, mm-ing and aah-ing as she wrote the letter that probably said I was about to keel over any second. What I had originally gone in for - my prescription and my routine vitamin B12 injection - was thrown out of the window.

If you live in Ireland (or maybe it's just Sligo), you'll know that going to the hospital is a day out in itself. Waiting hours in a stuffy, smelly emergency department is tough going as it is without having to watch people come in just because they have the flu or something minor. As soon as I mentioned to the receptionist I was in for my heart I was promoted to second in the queue, much to the dismay of another fellow who came in before me. As my name was called and I went to be assessed he stormed up to the nurse and demanded to know why he wasn't next, he was in before me. The nurse explained to him names are called in order of severity, not first come first serve. He gave me a look as if he was glad I was about to be poked and prodded to within an inch of my life. 

Luckily I had a lovely nurse (a female one, much to my dismay when she whipped my top up) who made me feel even sicker when she started calling me 'darling' in that worried voice doctors and parents do. She attached cables to stickers all over my body. I imagine I looked like some kind of cyber-octopus with all of these wires dangling off me.

After more waiting I was promoted to a bed for the whole of 20 minutes while I got my blood taken and a drip inserted - which was baby pink, very stylish may I say. A guy in the bed beside me fainted and about 15 doctors all rushed to him, it was like a real life episode of Casualty. After I had an X-Ray I got my bed taken off me because I obviously didn't look sick enough and got shoved into a Relatives Room. Top care as usual in Sligo General Hospital.

The highlight of the whole ordeal was when a nurse walked into my cubicle and said 'Hi. Adele?' and I said 'No...that's not me'. She proceeded to stare at me for a minute as if I might actually morph into this so-called Adele and go 'Just joking, I am Adele'. Eventually she left and I turned to my mother and said 'Never mind, she'll find someone like me'. *ba dum tiss*

Finally, after 6 and a half hours of waiting, my doctor took me into another room to 'have a chat about what they found', which obviously panicked me even more. I was expecting her to tell me I had 4 hearts or an entire chicken drumstick in my lungs or something like that. Instead, she told me that thankfully it wasn't something very serious such as a blood clot or angina, but as the results weren't conclusive I would need a heart monitor for a week to monitor any abnormalities in my heart, so another trip to the doctor is necessary. She also said inflammation of the cartilage near my heart can't be ruled out, so I'm still not 100% what's happening. All I know is I'm glad it's nothing very serious.

I also want to say thanks for everyone who wished me well on Facebook, it's so nice to know people care about me even if we've never met.