Been down south for the weekend. Very good to see the parents and a handful of my old mates again. I wish I could bring them all back with me.
The big story of the weekend though has to be the fact that I was admitted into hospital for an emergency operation on a Pilonidal Cyst. Not that I had the operation in the end! It would have involved being left with an open wound around my tailbone which wouldn’t be all that easy to drive 230 miles with, even with my godsent coccyx cushion. I’ll give you the story:
On Sunday 21st, I was getting some pain in my tailbone which was making sitting down uncomfortable. That evening, Emma had a look and said that it looked like I’d sat on a staple. I did a bit of research on the net to find out what the hell could cause such a thing and I came up with a Pilonidal Cyst. The pain grew stradily over the week, with me buying a coccyx cushion from Argos on the Monday. After a brief let up after quite a number of anti-inflammatories on Tuesday and Wednesday, it was time to drive down to Orpington which I managed in some considerable discomfort. I was coping alright throughout Friday, desipte a fair whack of pain while wandering round Bluewater shopping centre in Kent. On Friday night I went to a small party round my mate’s flat where fun & frivolity was had by all. I woke up at about half 5 in agony with the cyst by this time about the size of a grape. I decided that a visit to A&E was the only option so I went. After sitting there for a while (on my cushion… wherever I go, it goes! I’m on it now!) I got seen to and the Pilonidal Cyst was confirmed. They decided that the only option was to operate on it there and then, cutting it open to drain it and relieve the pain. If not, the cyst would burst within 24 hours which could lead to complications. So, here are a few reasons why the operation was not an option:
1. I was 230 miles from home
2. I’d be left with an open wound (they can’t stich it up) that would render me unable to do much at all for 2 weeks at least
3. Emma had to be back at work on Wednesday
4. My parents were in London, leaving Emma stuck at the hospital on her own until 5pm at the earliest
5. The reason I went down south was to go for a meal for my Mum’s birthday which was the same evening
6. They would keep me in overnight, at least, but the length of time I would be there was indeterminate
7. The operation would be conducted under general anaesthetic, rendering me unable to drive for 3 or 4 days even if it was stitched
8. My job involves me taking orders from a system no-one else knows how to use on a heavily passworded computer
As you can see, the operation wasn’t the most inviting option I could have received! I mentioned to the surgeon the list of problems associated with the possibility of having an op there and then (after he’d booked the theatre and got the consent forms sorted out… sorry!) and said that I’d seek advice in Huddersfield as soon as I could after I got back. I was perscribed some anti-inflammatories, some antibiotics and sent on my way.
Later on Saturday afternoon, I went for a shower and the cyst started weeping, just as the surgeon had predicted. The pain slowly subsided in my back and after a lot of wiping up of some rancid, beige, thick, smelly liquid, I felt good for the first time in a week!
The cyst was weeping gently over the next day or two but now I’m back here it’s feeling fine, more or less. I went to the doctors earlier on today who cleaned and dressed it for me (they have a great job don’t they?!) and asked me to come back on Thursday. The nurse who did the dressing said “it looks like you might have got away with it” but these things have a habit of recurring.
Anyway, all in all, it was an interesting weekend!
I’m feeling very tired what with the medication and the amount of time I’ve been awake in pain over the past week or so but a swig of Lucozade and a dollop of determination’s getting me through it.
I hope you enjoyed reading that 🙂
The good news is that I’ve now got a 32″ widescreen Sony Wega television (which took some getting up the stairs of our flats, mind you). It looks bloody good in our flat.
Right, that’ll do! Stay lucky.