Not the Doctor
Dec. 28th, 2004 09:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Giving the cinema a miss, partly because I slept in and will not be getting to Finchley before the film starts at this rate. I will try to get myself together for the pub and monging session this afternoon, but not sure I'm going to manage, truth to tell. I'm currently having "pain management issues". My fancy way of saying "feels like someone is hammering tent pegs through my wrists and I can do squat all about it". Even hurts to pet the tart. (Not that she sees that as an excuse.)
Also had a raving attack of RID last night. (For those of you just tuning in, RID stands for Random Inexplicable Depression; does just what it says on the tin.) It might not have been so bad, except for ... well, I'm a smart person, or so they tell me. I know a few first aid tips and home remedies (some homeopathic, some not), I can do CPR, that kind of thing. I also know enough to realise how little I actually do know, Gray's Anatomy notwithstanding. However, I am not a doctor, nor anything like one. Which means that, for all my medical secretarial knowledge, I can't give someone a 'general idea' of "how much blood loss is dangerous" without even looking at the someone in question. I don't think there are any "decent household clotting agents". I do know that any nosebleed that goes on for about 25 minutes is almighty dangerous and should be looked at by a professional, but I can't stand in for that professional if one's not readily accessible. I hate the feeling that I ought to be able to, and can't. The only comfort in this is that no doctor worth their credentials would make any kind of diagnosis like that without even looking at the patient. Still, this did not do the RID attack any damn good at all.
Still, as I suppose can be guessed, I'm feeling better emotionally at least. Physically ... well, I just downed some painkillers, so we'll see what happens when they kick in.
Being lacking in Fat Coke and too freshly-woken to go downstairs for any, I washed the stupid pills down with some of the Thin Coke
weaselbitch left here day before yesterday. Bleeeeeeeeeeegh! Chemicals! As regards taste, some people's brains are wired in ways that my own specifically-wired brain cannot understand. But then, I guess some people would think guacamole on a hamburger was weird, so I shouldn't talk.
Also had a raving attack of RID last night. (For those of you just tuning in, RID stands for Random Inexplicable Depression; does just what it says on the tin.) It might not have been so bad, except for ... well, I'm a smart person, or so they tell me. I know a few first aid tips and home remedies (some homeopathic, some not), I can do CPR, that kind of thing. I also know enough to realise how little I actually do know, Gray's Anatomy notwithstanding. However, I am not a doctor, nor anything like one. Which means that, for all my medical secretarial knowledge, I can't give someone a 'general idea' of "how much blood loss is dangerous" without even looking at the someone in question. I don't think there are any "decent household clotting agents". I do know that any nosebleed that goes on for about 25 minutes is almighty dangerous and should be looked at by a professional, but I can't stand in for that professional if one's not readily accessible. I hate the feeling that I ought to be able to, and can't. The only comfort in this is that no doctor worth their credentials would make any kind of diagnosis like that without even looking at the patient. Still, this did not do the RID attack any damn good at all.
Still, as I suppose can be guessed, I'm feeling better emotionally at least. Physically ... well, I just downed some painkillers, so we'll see what happens when they kick in.
Being lacking in Fat Coke and too freshly-woken to go downstairs for any, I washed the stupid pills down with some of the Thin Coke
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