Tuesday, 7 August 2007
There is an influenza epidemic in Australia at the moment.
I don't mean the common cold, which a lot of people call the 'flu. I mean the genuine article.
Margaret, alas, has it. But that's manageable - fluids, bed rest, paracetamol...
But this morning, through my sleepy fog, I heard "Lee...Lee...Lee..." coming plaintively from the bathroom. A quick exploration found a shaky, cold, clammy and somewhat dizzy Margaret on the floor. Achy and tingly, too. I got her back to bed, explored my options with an phone nurse and decided to take her to the emergency centre at the local hospital.
We got there about 8:30am, were seen by a nurse at 10:30am, seen by a doctor at about 2:30pm. I was starting to wish I had left her in bed. Overall she had picked up over the day. The doctor had one last query about whether she had meningitis. (She had a stiff neck and a headache but had spent most of the night in a recliner rocker to ease her coughing which probably did her neck no good and the headache? Well, she has the 'flu...) While I appreciate his desire to be thorough we would still be there if we hadn't said 'no' and we left with a promise that we would return if any symptoms of meningitis appeared.
Nothing quite stuffs your day as comprehensively as nine hours sitting in casualty.
Yes, she still has the 'flu.
No, she doesn't have meningitis. Or I don't think so.
No, I have no idea what was behind the morning dramas.
Yes, it did seem a lot longer than nine hours.
Yes, she is home.
Yes, I am going to bed.