Valleys born, blunt and warm, and I am going to be blunt about this because I nearly did not go and I want somebody reading this at midnight to go.
Friday evening, about eight, I got a pain under my ribs on the right. Not indigestion. It built for about an hour and then it stopped being something I could sit through — it went round my side and up under my shoulder blade, and I could not find a position that helped. I was on all fours on the landing carpet at one point. I was sick twice. I kept telling my sister it was probably the medicine and I would ride it out until Monday, and she said, and I quote, get your coat.
What happened when we got there. Triage at half eleven, seen properly at about two. They took bloods, including the pancreas one, and asked me twice about the medicine — not in a snide way, just wanting the full picture. The doctor was about twenty-eight and thorough. Bloods came back not showing pancreatitis, which was the thing they had been ruling out. They gave me something for the pain that finally touched it, kept me until the morning, and sent me for a scan on the Monday.
The scan found gallstones. So now I have a surgical referral, a leaflet, and a prescriber who has paused my medicine while the surgeons look at me, which she explained properly on the phone on Tuesday.
Two things I want on the record. One: the pain was not like anything I have had before and if you are wondering whether yours is that kind of pain, you will know. Two: I spent four hours telling myself I was making a fuss. Nobody at that hospital treated me as if I were making a fuss. Not one person.
117