Yes, I went to hell in a hand basket, or at least, that’s what it felt like!
Last Wednesday night through Thursday morning, I was sick. I was very sick. Throwing up and, well, other stuff. So that by mid morning Thursday I was in bad shape, and on the road to being severely dehydrated. At which point my partner called for an ambulance, and I was rushed into hospital for an extended stay, for five days till they could stabilise my condition—my potassium, sodium, and magnesium levels had dropped to a very unhealthy level.
After a couple of days on a drip and being closely monitored, blood tests showed my electrolytes where finally back in balance, and I was on the road to recover. The doctor, however, kept me in for a few more days over the weekend to make sure there was no reoccurrence of the vomiting and diarrhoea.
I was back home on the Monday but on a restricted diet of high fibre meals, and plenty of water. This weekend I should be in the clear, if there are no further occurrences that is. The virus will have been flushed through my system. Well, at least that’s the plan. I hope so, because, let me tell you, I wouldn’t will that experience on my worst enemy.
Simply put, it was awful. Though it’s true, I was in really good hands, in the best place possible, and being looked after by teams of nurses, doctors, and auxiliary staff who were outstanding.
I cannot express my thanks to all these dedicated people who helped me on the road to recovery, and I am ever grateful to their dedication. Maybe tomorrow I’ll post about the highs and lows.
Oh, and while in Emergency I was tested for COVID-19, and it’s official, I am negative!
Where ever you are in the world, stay safe out there, and take care of you and yours.