I have a hospital appointment next Tuesday.
They’ve phoned twice, so far, wanting me to confirm I’ll be there. How the bloody hell do I know? It’s a week away. I could be dead or – more likely based on events tonight – an in-patient by then.
It’s at 9.45 so it’s going to have to be a spectacularly good day for me to be there by then, but I won’t know until the day arrives as, to get there by that time I’ll have to be up at 05.00. Getting up at that hours is doable – being mobile most certainly is not.
If I had to give them a decision, right now, I’d have to say no. Making it as far as the bedroom is going to be a challenge.
A 15ml dose** of Oramorph shut down my breathing with an almost perceptible bang about a minute after taking it, and I thought for a while I’d be in hospital before morning. I’ve got it mostly back under control, though not perfectly – still hard to breathe and the idea of going to bed is pretty scary right now. So I’m not.
**Because I’ve been in terrible pain all day, with no let-up, and I’ve had enough.
I have to say, though, that it’s pretty worrying. I’m keeping a record of how much Oramorph I’m taking. There are two versions, Public, for my GP and the hospital, maybe, and Private, just for my use, which is more detailed and honest, as my GP would just love the chance to withdraw it.
Oramorph has never triggered a respiratory crisis before, but there is no doubt it’s the culprit as I’d taken nothing else for hours. I followed it with a load of water to hopefully dilute it, then megadosed with my inhalers. I’m better than I was at 11.30, but still not 100% right.
I have – last year – taken doses as large as 35ml and, in hospital in August I was accidentally given 20ml. None did me any harm (nor did 20ml have any beneficial effect at all and neither did tonight’s 15ml).
Anyway, it’s after 01.00 and at the risk of provoking a crisis, I’m off to bed, fingers firmly crossed.