Blue Lights on the Ceiling

Let me start by saying, I am in fact fine now.
On Tuesday I was happily out shopping with a friend, when I got tingly fingers. Ok I thought, I am getting a migraine. I should have eaten breakfast. Never mind. At which point I grabbed a Wispa and some Ibuprofen at the checkout. To clarify, I am usually very lucky with migraines, in that I get some weird tinglies up my left side which then stops with a minor headache in the right side of my brain.


I’m not sure which side I think with, but it’s definitely misbehaving!

We finished the shopping and went to get Ethan from school, I hopped out the car and walked in to the playground, realising my legs felt a bit odd, but shrugged it off as ‘tinglies‘ and carried on. We got back to the car (no, I wasn’t driving, that could have been a lot worse!) and Jannine my lovely friend took us back to her house to get my pushchair, where I declared that actually, I didn’t feel that great. Jannine kindly offered to have Ethan (and to let me sleep in her bed while she watched BOTH of my boys, and her mindee, though I declined) and I set off in the fresh air thinking I’d put Sam down to a nap and have one myself.

Halfway home and ..hmm.. I feel sick. great. I phoned Rich to see if he could ask his mum to have Sam so I could really sleep and kick the migraine. I had thought to ring her myself, but, call me old fashioned, I only feel comfortable risking a phone puking for my husband. They obliged and 15 minutes later Sam was packed off with Grandad and I headed for bed, thinking that was that, I’d wake up in a couple of hours and be at least mostly fixed.

Ha. Ha ha ha. Oh how I was wrong.

I woke up about an hour later and crawled to the bathroom, head pounding, and was sick. Here is where it gets a bit hazy for a bit. I remember struggling to make my phone ring Rich, it was so weird, it was like the buttons were all jumbled up. He told me to ring NHS direct and later told me I had been slurring. I struggled again to first of all find the number (it wasn’t til this morning that I remembered it’s actually stored in my phone – I ended up trying to google it on my phone!) and then trying to dial it. The lovely lady on the other end told me she was getting an ambulance and to try and go down and unlock the door. She stayed on the line and talked to me, but I’ve no idea what she said. I vaguely remember slumping to the floor against the couch and seeing the blue lights on the ceiling. Somewhere in my head I remembered seeing it before – we used to have a lady living on the street who was quite ill with diabetes, and I distinctly thought Well it’s much less interesting when they’re here for you!

After that I remember a male paramedic asking me which shoes I wanted and where my bag was -very surreal- and that it was raining. Also, quite possibly the worst place to physically be when you are ill, is in the back of an ambulance, because those things can bounce. Seriously, the paramedic kept apologising. Not great when you already feel like your brain is trying to burst out of your skull.

The ambulance service, if you’re not nauseous now you will be!

The short version is that I then sat in A&E for about 5 hours, literally crying in agony, with people talking to me about possible brain bleeds, being fed (and throwing up) various painkillers (which either didn’t work or didn’t have time to) and hilariously, anti-sickness tablets. I have *never* understood the logic of giving oral anti-emetics to someone who is already throwing up. I was finally promised some Morphine and an IV anti-emetic, but a bed became available on the ward so I was denied the Morphine and promised some on the ward. Except I got there and didn’t see a doctor for another 3 hours. I was not a happy bunny. Then they gave me something powerful (Tramadol maybe? it began with a T) and I fell asleep, until I woke up to someone talking obnoxiously loud at 3am while moving into the room. I must have started feeling better at that point because I could spare a thought to think murderous things.

In the morning I was feeling much better and allowed to come home, having been told yes, it ‘was just a migraine’. Unless of course I wanted the medication they prescribed me, in which case I had to wait 2 hours because of the strikes, or buy it over the counter. I bought it at the chemist and came home to sleep. So all in all, not a great experience. I’ll never take my mini-migraines for granted again – I wouldn’t wish that on anybody.

And to the weirdos who try to ring an ambulance for a tummy ache and such (Rich’s dad is and ambulance phone man, we hear it all) trust me, get a cab or a bus.

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1 Comment

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One response to “Blue Lights on the Ceiling

  1. Bex

    Wow, Cait, that sounds just like my worst ones, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, I'm so grateful I haven't had one as bad as that for a while – touch wood! Just make sure you get to bed as soon as you feel one coming next time xxx

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