Axls Day At The Hospital.

You see, it's not enough to just be ill. No, I have to go and get excruciating chest pains. Again. I managed to make it to work just in time to realise that there was no way I could work today and lo, a paramedic was called into work. Again. (For those of you who don't know/remember, when I say again, I'm refering to the time, almost exactly 2 years ago, that I pulled my right peck and curled up on the shop floor in a ball of pain and tears.) This time was different though, I actually went to hospital because of breathing irregularity and it seemed I may have cracked a rib, or slightly damaged a lung. So a lovely ride to the hospital in a paramedics car. Anyway, this paramedic starts chatting about stuff, I think mostly to stop me panicing again, and it turns out she knows Russ! Small world and all that.
Anyway, I got wheelchaired into hospital and they put me on a bed and I had to wait and listen to a boy get diagnosed with diabetes on one side, and a woman with vaginal problems on the other (I heard more about cezarian sections, cysts and periods than I ever want to ever again.), while in front of me a nurse was shouting at an old woman things like "HOW ARE YOUR BOWELS?!" and "DOES IT BURN WHEN YOU PASS URINE?!" Ah, happy days.
So anyway I got my blood presure taken, my pulse checked, told the doctor about stuff, I got touched a lot (some of it very painful), and then off to be x-ray'd. A porter came and wheeled my bed into the x-ray room! I felt like I was on ER! (Except without the lovely Maura Tierney. (Have I spelt that right?) Mmmm, she's lovely.) Anyway, the x-ray showed no cracked rib and no lung damage. PHEW! Basically what they reckon happened was that I pulled a muscle at about the same time I got my cold, and all the bloody coughing I've done in the last few days has made it a hell of a lot worse than it would have been otherwise. So they let me go. After giving me some fucking strong painkillers that is. You could sell that shit for a fat wad of cash. Shame they didn't prescribe me anymore. Not that I'd sell it, it's just really good.
So anyway, I've got to take fuck loads of paracetomol and ibuprofen for the next week, and carry on normally. Well, as normal as you can when you can't really lift anything or move your right arm in certain ways. Woo-hoo!
On the plus side tho, another excuse to eat lots of soup and Malteasers! Yay!