A worrying 36 hours…

Those of you that follow my blog’s Facebook and Instagram pages will know that I’ve been really poorly this weekend.

So poorly that it warranted a trip to hospital to get checked over last night.

If you can’t be bothered to read to the end, I’m fine now.

It started on Saturday evening. Dave and I were walking back to the car after the football match we went to, and I started feeling out of breath and tight chested. It continued when I was at home, even resting on the bed for an hour, just feeling like I couldn’t fill my lungs properly. I wasn’t feeling panicked, but I was feeling disconcerted by it. It wasn’t normal for it to come on like that out of nowhere.

The only thing that had happened was I had the flu jab at 10am. My twitchy fingers started googling and anaphylactic reaction came up. I texted my dad (who is a voluntary First Responder) for his opinion, and he wanted to come round and check my obs.

Initially my blood pressure was high (but then it always is to begin with because I hate having my blood pressure taken) but then it went down to normal. My oxygen was fine at 98% and my heart rate was 95-100 which was also fine considering I’m pregnant. My dad told me to rest up and take it a bit easier.

Later that night, before I went to bed, I started feeling unwell. At 10pm I had a 30 minute run of diarrhoea. I went to bed feeling exhausted. At 1am I woke with a sudden urgency. I then proceeded to projectile vomit for a good 20 minutes. What followed throughout the night was alternating between sickness and diarrhoea, feeling clammy and hot and cold and shivery, puking up bile and dry retching, being unable to keep even water in me, and getting no sleep whatsoever.

Dave, of course, slept through all of this.

I tried the sucking on ice cubes and ice lollies trick (fortunately we still had some of those in the freezer left over from the summer) and just as well it worked as that was the only way I could keep hydrated as sipping normal water made me sick it straight up again.

For the rest of the day, I was on the sofa, aching and feverish, dozing in and out of sleep. At around 4pm I took my temperature (on the trusty BBT thermometers that I abandoned 10 days ago!) and one read over 100F and the other read over 38C. I wt on the NHS website and I was concerned to see that a fever like that could affect the baby. I rang 111 and based on my answers to their questions, they decided I needed to see a medical professional within 6 hours. Because it was a Sunday, the only out of hours service was based in the A&E department at our local hospital. They made me an appointment to go there at 7:30pm.

Dave and I arrived there at 7:20pm. Straight away I was given a tube to provide a urine sample and then as soon as I handed that over, we were seen by a doctor. After a thorough check over, lots of questions and an examination, the doctor was happy that I was just suffering with a stomach bug, and although I was slightly dehydrated and my temperature was still high at 38C, she wasn’t concerned for the baby.

We left at 7:45pm, me still feeling physically shit, but both of us feeling psychologically reassured. I felt a little bad walking straight past other patients who had been waiting there hours, but it made me feel so grateful (again) for the NHS. All of the advice and treatment, and the speed at which we received it, was free and second to none. It was better to be safe than sorry, and this was my first mummy experience of putting Cub first.

We got home and I took 2 paracetamol as the doctor advised, and went to bed. I woke up this morning after a restful sleep, still nauseous, but without the aches and pains, and with no fever anymore (thank god).

I took today off work to recover. I spent the whole day feeling weak, and light headed, and with zero energy. I need to go back to work tomorrow but I’m fast discovering how being pregnant wipes you out even more when you’re ill.

The main thing is Cub is fine. 10 days to go until I’m reassured by seeing them again at our scan, but until then, I’m going to do my best to take it easy. 

It’s not been a great 36 hours. But Daddy Bear has been taking good care of us both.


One thought on “A worrying 36 hours…

  1. I haven’t been keeping up with Facebook (too busy with work!) so I missed all this. Glad you’re feeling better and Cub is fine. It must be so hard working in a school with all the lovely bugs the children like to share.

    Liked by 1 person

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