I’m baffled because I’ve discovered yet another food trigger** but the human Pulmonary Oedema (PO from here), literature makes no mention of such triggers, though the veterinary literature does – it’s apparently quite common in dogs, especially the chocolate trigger.
**I said in a previous post that I wasn’t sure food triggers were real. I am now.
Also baffling is whether I consume the trigger substance in my sole meal (I eat just once a day, anywhere between 18.00 and 20.00), or my bedtime snack (between midnight and 01.00), PO always strikes at the same time, 03.30, give or take 10 minutes.
As it did this morning.
By 05.00 I was coughing blood and decided it was time to beat a retreat to the living room (with the focus on living!). A change of posture – from lying down to sitting up, for example – is recommended for PO attacks, but as I already have to sleep sitting up, that means moving to my swivel chair in front of my computer. Then, once I have the PO back under control (megadosing with my inhalers as my GP won’t give me the drugs and O2 I need**), I can snooze in the armchair or, as now, write a couple of blog posts and sleep later.
**I need Salbutamol and Atrovent, in nebules (one of each, simultaneously), which is what they used in hospital in August. Emergency O2 would be useful, too. No, I don’t know why he won’t prescribe the drugs, other than he’s an unhelpful prick who’d sooner have me in hospital, with all attendant risks of infection and fuckuppery that this entails, than allow me to tackle this safely, at home, which I’m perfectly capable of doing. The O2 might be more problematic – in hospital I’m on it 24/7, but can’t get it at home. I’ve been assured that any benefits I feel in hospital from O2 are entirely imaginary, which is the purest bovine ordure!
Anyway, yesterday evening I had approximately 225g of Stilton, a handful of crackers (Carr’s Melts), and several handfuls of pitted dates (dates stuffed with Stilton are staggeringly good), washed down with a litre of whole milk. The cheese was 35% fat, the milk a mere 3.6%. The crackers, though – and I get through a lot of these – are a surprising 21.7% fat. All things considered, then, a bit of a fat-fest. And I paid the price.
It’s coming up to 07.53 now and while my breathing is still a bit laboured, I can, at least, breath without coughing blood (few things scare me more than internal bleeding, because I can’t see what’s going on and it’s way outside of my control).
So, over the weekend I’m going to write again to my GP – this will be the third time – asking for the nebules before the Christmas shutdown** (I have a nebuliser, it’s not as if I’m asking him to provide that too). And saying that if he won’t do so I want a referral to the chest clinic ASAP – something the cardiologist asked him to do months ago – to see if they’ll prescribe them.
**As well as my normal reservations about hospital, today’s news is that the NHS is collapsing under the strain being engineered by this most corrupt of governments to “justify” its privatisation – for which read selling at a bargain-basement price to Tory party donors.
I could buy my own nebules, but why should I? I already buy antibiotics and Hydrocortisone, and I’ve spent a fair amount on dressings for my leg ulcer this year too. When the nurses told me of their cut-backs I made it quite clear that the current £20 or so a day just wasn’t affordable. It’s one thing contributing to the cost if I can afford it – I know I’m an expensive patient – it’s quite another when, by doing so, I’m actively colluding with the bunch of crooks in Westminster.