Oh my days!
Halloween was mine and Hubby's 7th anniversary. However, being the responsible dog owners that we are, we never go out due to the amount of fireworks and 'trick or treaters' the night inevitably invites. So, true to tradition, Hubby cooked me a lush (and diet friendly) meal and we shared a (not so diet friendly!) bottle of champagne.
Imagine my horror when in the early hours of the following morning I rolled over in bed...and the room rolled with me! Imagine my enhanced horror when I then 'went projectile' as vomit escaped from every facial orifice. (Perhaps a slight over exaggeration, but you understand the severity of the vomiting situation now though, right?!)
OMG! I am never drinking again! I've become a lightweight! My Grandad will disown me!
With the spinning and vomiting progressively worsening throughout the day, Hubby decided that it couldn't possibly be the drink, as two glasses of the fizzy stuff wouldn't cause this amount of destruction in anyone. And so the guilt crept in. Had he given me food poisoning? No, or else he would be the same. So what was it???
Three hideous hours later he decided enough was enough and called for an emergency Doctor who said they would be here within 2 hours. 4 hours later, he rang again! 6 and a half hours later they finally arrived!
By this time I was grey, damp with sweat and let me kid you not; not my usual attractive self (lol).
With no apology she began to take vitals, whilst simultaneously trying to hold her handbag over her shoulder. She hit me with said bag at least twice - which only made me feel worse than I already did - before coming to the conclusion that I had either Labrythitis or Meniers Disease. She wrote a prescription, which due to her tardy arrival it was now too late to collect, as even the emercency pharmacist was now closed, and off she went. I was left to my own devices to continue spinning and vomiting through the night once more until Hubby (My Hero!) set out at first light to collect my drugs.
Obviously, I am now on the mend or I wouldn't even be able to contemplate blogging, let alone type - albeit two fingered and slowly...oh no wait, that's my usual typing style and speed - but I await the outcome of my own GPs thoughts as to my diagnosis and prognosis. I am no longer a vomiting mess of mass, though I am still decidedly wobbly and a bit dizzy. (No change there then!) I remind myself of a supermarket trolley with a defective wheel; I just want to go left.
Do you remember 'The Weebles' toys from your childhood? Well, I am a Weeble because 'weebles wobble but they don't fall down'!