A daily photo-blog of my life as an American transplanted in the UK.
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
Year 2 Day 27: The Return
I swear I was just here 24 hours ago...oh wait, that's because I was! In fact, this will make my THIRD visit in less than a week. Granted, 1/3 of the visits wasn't related to feeling poorly (day 22 - visit to the midwife) but I think the receptionists at Albion House are as tired of seeing me as I am of them, respectfully.
As you may have read from yesterday, the Dequa-Spray was a huge FAIL and sadly, the Dequacaine lozenge only managed to sit on my tongue 30 seconds before it met an untimely death in the bin. It numbed my entire tongue and I just couldn't handle it. I thought it would surely burn a hole straight through! To make matters worse, I barely slept and woke up shortly after Matt even came to bed. I couldn't get back to sleep and ended up downstairs on the sofa trying to quit coughing and with my nose dripping like a leaky tap.
By the time Matt stopped home for dinner in this afternoon, he discovered his 'Megatee' (manatee) floating sideways in the bath with a limp arm over the edge, absolutely desperate for sweet relief from her chilled/achy body and the blazing fire inside her head. He offered to stay home for the afternoon, but I felt entirely too guilty to ask him to do this, knowing I would just be a blubbering, whingy mess the whole time. Instead, he made me promise I would ring the surgery back and demand that they see me again because it was clearly more than just laryngitis.
Shortly after he left for work again, I phoned and at first the receptionist was trying to get me to call the National Pandemic Hotline for Swine Flu. I reminded her that A) I had chills, but not a fever, and B) The NHS website clearly instructs any patients who are PREGNANT are to call their GP first BEFORE calling the hotline. Luckily, Dr. Hooker was nearby and the receptionist put her on the line. She asked what the new symptoms were and as soon as I told her my nose was running and no longer clear and I had chills, she said she would be willing to have a prescription for a baby-safe antibiotic waiting at the front desk for me.
I won't lie, I was a bit miffed that she didn't just do this YESTERDAY...but I didn't waste any more time throwing on some sweats and heading up to get it. Conveniently, there is a Lloyds Pharmacy just around the corner from the surgery, so I left my car parked to pop inside for the prescription and then walked the 50 whole yards to the chemist.
In the UK, your prescriptions are free on the NHS if you are pregnant, so I happily ticked the appropriate box on the back of the form when I went inside to collect my drugs. I noticed the bag was a bit heavier than I expected, but waited until I got home to open it. When I did, I discovered a ginormous bottle of Gaviscon from a month or so, back when I told the midwife I had a bit of acid reflux and she told me she would write a prescription for that for me. So hey...BONUS! I got my economy-sized Gaviscon as well (again, just a PSA in case there is anyone in need).
Anyway, here I sit with my first dose of Amoxicillin, ready and loaded to go down the hatch after a light meal of Spaghetti Hoops and bread -- none of which I will likely be able to taste. Such a waste!
Still, hoping for some light at the end of this sick tunnel.
After two and a half years in a long-distance relationship, I packed my life of 29 years into 21 boxes and moved to England to marry and be with my husband, Matt. Now I'm reveling in the youth of my 30s in Great Britain, supply-teaching in primary schools near Birmingham and enjoying newlywed life, being a mommy, and all the surprises they bring!