I know you were all waiting to hear about my first Julbord, however instead of knocking back glögg, swerving ‘iffy’ fish dishes and tucking into Christmas Ham I had an altogether different experience.
I debated about whether I should pen this but I have always felt this is a ‘warts and all’ exile blog so decided I would. I am actually quite a private guy but here goes.
I haven’t been feeling myself for some time, headaches, fatigue, I put it down to some winter cold or stress at work. I then noticed a nasty growth and I knew what it was. I had this in my early twenties when I was living in Scotland. Its a Pilonidal abscess. Although being silly I refused to acknowledge it. I had hoped it was something else and would disappear. Yes silly I know! But last time I had it I ended up n Edinburgh Royal Infirmary under the surgeons knife.
It was really painful last weekend. Ms Palin said I should get it checked out but I was too afraid, I am crap with medical stuff. I felt very ill, vomiting, feeling cold but put it down to the copious amount of whisky I downed with friends last weekend.
This week it bled badly and I decided I had to see the quack.
Unfortunately there were no appointments but they said I could come in the next day, take a number and see if I can get looked at. Not great but better nothing. I was there on the dot and got a good number. I am glad I did as the place was soon packed with people needing attention.
As I paid the 140 SEK (about 14 Euros) I was thinking of our very own Blog commentator H2 (Hasse) or said I should have got the pass that gives me free visits after a certain amount of sessions and I knocked him down by saying I never need the doctor. That’ll teach me!
The Doctor spoke good English, always a bonus and explained that it looked nasty and she was concerned with the way I was feeling so I had to have tests. Neither of the ‘undersköterska’ could speak very good English. I coped ok with the first one, she only had to prick my finger but the next lady was tricky. She was of oriental origin so not the clearest of accents. I really didnt get what she was asking me to do. I was starting to get a tad frustrated, not at her, its not her fault but mine. I should have this language pinned down by now but…
I then waited what seemed like ages to get the results. Fortunately the results weren’t too bad but definitely an infection.
The Doctor then said I could go to hospital or they could treat it there. Now on my mind was the fact that I am due in Amsterdam next week for our Christmas Parties and a few important meetings. I knew getting seen now would mean me staying in an empty office in Stockholm. But health first, I will have a better Christmas if they blitz it now.
So there I am laying on the table while 2 Swedish Doctors are apologising profusely as they go to battle against it. I thought only the British kept saying sorry and thank you! I wasnt too confident when the Doctor said this kind of thing made her sick. I am thinking she meant to say that she didnt like to cause pain as opposed to this bit of surgery making her queasy. Not sure how I would have reacted to her throwing up all over me.
The pain was nasty, excruciating, so they gave me a local anaesthetic, personally I would have been happier had they knocked me out, maybe Edinburgh wasn’t so bad after all.
As I laid on the table for the first time I thought, maybe I would be better off in England, there have been a lot of issues in my life this year and I was waving the white flag. It was a moment of low self-doubt. I dont get them too often thankfully and five mins later I was back in my normal frame of mind.
I now have to get the wound dressed each day which is a pain, it means no Amsterdam, no Christmas Party and I was feeling more nauseous than before.
They have given me antibiotics to help kill off the infection, it made me feel giddy but I still had to get up the office today for a few important meetings. (see photo below of me trying to look on form!) I wasn’t looking so cheerful when I picked up the drugs, 360 SEK, 36 Euros ouch!!! Can someone remind me why I pay Swedish taxes again?
As I left the surgery, I stuck on my Ipod and the first song that came on was Morrisseys’ ‘You Know I Couldnt Last‘, musically not one of my favourites but the lyrics are so powerful. In particular:
The critics who, Can’t break you
They somehow help to make you
The critics who, Can’t break you, Unwittingly they make you.
Very very true Mr Morrissey. I love this song, its about feeling beaten but not letting them win. Very apt methinks.