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It’s been an awful bloody week.
Sorry if you think I’m so frustrated that I’ve taken to using expletives. But it has, literally, been a bloody week.
Nosebleeds aren’t normally a big deal. I’d guess most people suffer at least one or two during a lifetime. But they become a big deal when they begin to occur regularly and when they become difficult to stop.
Well, I’ve had the “regularly” bit for a little while. And now I’ve had two that became difficult to control. The last one happened me a week or so ago. And it was of course, complicated by Covid.
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I have been on daily oxygen for a couple of years. That means carrying around a machine which generates the oxygen and having two small prongs up my nose so that I can inhale it as I go about my business. It’s something you get used to - and that includes people staring.
The problem is that oxygen dries out the inside of the nose and makes it a little more prone to bleeding. Sticking the prongs in can exacerbate the problem.
Add in a blood thinner, in my case Xarelto, and it gets complicated.
A few weeks ago, I had a nasty bleed just before I left hospital. Fortunately, medical staff were on hand to help stem the bleeding. And it did stop after ten minutes or so.
I'm anxious to stay away from A&E if at all possible. It's just not a clever place to be when you are immunocompromised on top of everything else
That wasn't the case with the most recent bleed.
On and on it went. Half an hour. An hour.
It wasn't quite "gushing" but it was close.
We rang the medical help lines available to us and were told to call an ambulance, which we did.
It bled on and on. "Would you have bled an egg-cup full?" we were asked by the 999 operator.
Yes, my wife told them. Probably more like a mug full.
We were warned that the ambulance would take some time.
After two hours – 45 minutes after ordering the ambulance – the bleeding finally stopped. We cancelled the ambulance – against, it must be said, the advice of the operator.
But, because of the pandemic, and medical advice, I’m anxious to stay away from A&E if at all possible. It’s just not a clever place to be when you are immunocompromised on top of everything else.
The following day my GP advised me to stop taking the blood thinner and referred me to the Eye and Ear hospital – which is also the Nose and Throat hospital!
And so, with some slight reluctance, I went there but was happy to see a large waiting room with only two other people in it.
It took a couple of hours but after a close examination and something or other being stuffed up both nostrils for half an hour I was told that it appeared there was nothing in my nose which might lead to a catastrophic bleed. I just had to keep my nostrils moist.
The number of rules I have to follow, tablets and medicines I have to take, keeps growing.
It appears that, unlike many other countries, we're pretty good at taking this thing seriously
It was just another episode in my health story but yet another one where Covid played its part. It was at the back of my mind as I headed into a room in which other people, strangers, sat, not something I’m used to doing anymore.
It may well be paranoia, but even if it is, I don’t really see an alternative.
Certainly, the bulk of those who argue against masks and vaccines appear not to be firing on all cylinders. Much as I love their music, I don’t think I’ll ever listen to Van Morrison or Eric Clapton again as long as I live.
I will continue to be careful and I hope others will be too. It appears that, unlike many other countries, we’re pretty good at taking this thing seriously even if a few appear to be doing their best to spread the virus.
I’ve very little strength left which is probably just as well. Because as I sit in the car outside a shop and see some eejit striding in, not just maskless but with an “I’ve no mask, do you have a problem with that?” look on his face. I know that if I was fit, I’d be confronting him.
There’s very little doubt that, these days, that would land me in A&E for sure.