I woke up this morning in hospital. Long time readers may recall my habit of injuring myself overseas. Yesterday, I went on a wine tour, had a wee snooze and went to find some dinner. I had the flathead fish recommended by the head chef – which was delicious and incurred the relatively minor problem of getting a fish bone lodged in my throat.
The restaurant staff insisted on calling an ambulance – which then took nearly two hours to arrive. I was shuttled to Alfred Hospital, sat in the waiting room for another hour, and was then ushered to a bed in the emergency room, to be looked at by a doctor, who after pumping an incredibly foul local anaesthetic down my throat, said that he couldn’t see the offending item. An hour later, after some some gentle snoozing, I had my X-rays, which were not helpful. The Ear-Nose-Throat specialist was called who said that it wasn’t life threatening, and would look at it the morning. In the mean time, I slept some more, had CT scan at some unmentionable hour of the morning, followed by being put on a saline drip with a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory in case surgery was needed.
Thankfully it was not. At around 0745, the ENT team turned up, had a peak using the same foul anaesthetic, had a look at the CT scan, then return to spray even more of the same retch inducing drug into my throat to calm my gag reflex, before reaching in with a very long pair of forceps and pulling out the very small bone. All was clear, and I checked out about five minutes later, where upon I took a wrong turn, and walked the 4km back to my hostel.
Touching on my previous post, there’s something about gratifying about being miles from everyone I know, and yet still having a dozen odd people commenting and messaging me to let me know that to know they cared and that they’re thinking of me. That kind of thing almost makes me want to get on a plane back home. But I won’t, I’ve got an interview tomorrow.