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Sunday, June 05, 2011

It can't be easy for Amelie having to spend the weekend away from her convalescing father, but she's managing to put a brave face on it...

She's a little battler like her Daddy. For me, it's been a weekend of tough personal challenges. I've fought my way through an afternoon of horse racing, a bit of football, one of Lisa's roast dinners and the Britain's Got Talent final, which I watched in my pants due to slightly muggy weather conditions and a dangerously high body temperature brought about by drinking too much hot chocolate.

To be honest, I don't think I'm very good at relaxing. Instead of enjoying the chance to kick back and unwind, I seem to be spending my time anxiously thinking of all the things Lisa could be doing instead of fetching me food. I might tell her not to cook me lunch today, and to get on with the ironing instead.

As for my foot, it's hard to say how it is when I'm barely using it, but suffice it to say, I'm not cured yet. My walking's still as limp as a German salad, and I think I've damaged a metatarsal by putting all my weight on my toes. But the good news is that I'm not the only one suffering. For many years now, Big Sis and I have been having the kind of freaky 'twin experiences' usually reserved for... well, for twins really. We can be thousands of miles apart, indulging in completely different activities - her on a whitewater river raft ride down the Grand Canyon, me on the sofa eating a whole banoffee pie in front of a Channel Five documentary on cosmetic surgery gone wrong - and yet we'll both suddenly feel sick at the same time. It's weird.

And this weekend has been weirder still. One of the known side-effects of my injection that I was warned about by the podiatrist is facial flushing, caused by the hormonal effects of methylprednisolone. And sure enough, at about 9:45pm on Friday, I started feeling quite flushed. Which was surprising as I couldn't even walk to the toilet. Over the next half hour, I got very hot, and my heart started racing like the Queen's horse in the Derby. Only faster. Admittedly, I'd just watched the results of a Britain's Got Talent semi-final, so I was in an excitable mood, but even so, I felt very odd. By 10:20pm I'd had enough, and went straight to bed, where I lay next to Lisa, feeling red-hot with my pulse racing. But not for the reasons you might think.

Having been warned about the steroid's side-effects, that experience wasn't entirely unexpected. What was surprising was to wake up on Saturday morning to a text message from Big Sis, sent at 2:54am from Southampton, where she'd been attending a friend's birthday meal. She said this...

"Another dramatic evening... Was part way thru the main course when I collapsed - apparently I was very very hot suddenly! An ambulance arrived and they spent ages testing me in the amb until they eventually let me go... I think I'm ok now, tho not allowed to be by myself or drive tonight."

I'm not allowed to drive either! And the hot flush is even more coincidental. I texted her back with my own experience, and asked her what time she slumped into her nut roast. She replied with this:

"No way!! It was 10pm and my heart rate was double what it normally is! The ambulance report confirmed it - they got the call at 10:21pm and I'd been feeling ill for about 20 mins."

It's another twin experience. We're like a cross between The Cheeky Girls and Jedward.


Dave said...

Of course, hot flushes in ladies of a certain age aren't uncommon.

Phil's Mum said...

I don't know which twin to rush to perhaps I won't bother!