|[Blog] Doctor Doctor Give Me The News - Betting Tips for the Sick and Twisted|
Written by SE1blue on Wednesday, 11th Jan 2012 12:23
I have quite a bit of sympathy this week for Jimmy Bullard. For five days now I have been in bed with a very bad case of norovirus.
I don’t know if you’ve ever had a norovirus infection but for those of you who haven’t, here are some of the symptoms; projectile vomiting, liquid diarrhoea, uncontrollable shivering, excessive sweating, a soaring fever and the overwhelming desire to cry “Mummy!”.
It was about 10pm on Friday evening when I knew something was wrong inside me. Normally, the sound of trapped wind rumbling across my stomach, like distant thunder on an African plain, can be resolved by the lifting one buttock from the sofa and disguising its change of journey with a gentle cough.
However, on this occasion, I realised that there was a much darker storm brewing and that the heavens were about to open with serious vengeance. So I dashed upstairs and headed for the bathroom. It was about halfway there that my brain was having an argument with itself as to whether it was my head or my bum that should be pointed at the porcelain. With no time to lose I chose to sit on the loo and vomit into the adjacent sink as my body exploded from both ends.
From an early age I have always been fascinated by what my body can do. On occasions, this has got me into some embarrassing situations and awkward conversations with my GP.
“David, cotton buds are for girls, and only meant for the ears”
Nevertheless, this hasn’t stopped my endless curiosity with the flesh and bones that hold my body together. If there is something to be squeezed, popped, scratched, picked, plucked, rubbed, shaved or prodded from the ensemble Mother Nature has provided me, then you can guarantee I’ve ticked that box.
As a result, my doctor and I have got to know each other very well over the last 38 years. Whilst he might describe me as a “hyperchondriac”, I prefer the term ‘vulnerable adult’. But this man has sorted me out with more quality drugs than any of the top dealers on my housing estate ever did.
It’s lucky that medicines have an expiry date, otherwise I would have a drugs haul under my kitchen sink to rival that of the very best Heathrow customs officer. It’s only a shame that chemists don’t offer a loyalty card.
Despite all of my issues, I recognise that a small crumb of comfort is knowing that my personal problems have not just been an education for me. I feel that Dr Bokla, his colleagues at Borough Medical Practice, the doctors, nurses and students at Guys Hospital, and science itself have benefited from my misfortune.
Dr Bokla is a man of little patience, a heavy frown and, I have increasingly found, a huge fan of sarcasm. However, I cannot fault his efforts in solving the medical mystery that I had once called ‘The Curious Case of the Eerie Ears’.
Last summer, I woke up one morning with a ghostly noise filling my ears. If I turned my head to the left, a ghost would “Woo!” in my right ear. If I looked to the right, the ghost would get louder in my left ear.
I held my nose and blew hard trying to make my ears pop. Nothing. I looked for my cotton buds, before I remembered they had been thrown out when Dr Bokla cracked the unfortunate, and most unpleasant case, known as ‘The Heinous Penis’ (see above).
So, an hour later, I was in Dr Bokla’s very capable hands, although I felt his approach of trying to shake the suspected water free from my ears, by holding my neck, was a little unusual. This didn’t work, nor did his search of the internet for any suitable drugs, so he sent me off to Guys Hospital ENT (Ear, Nose and Throat) department.
With the ghost tormenting my ears every step of the way, I fought my way through the busy streets of whining beggars, the “I-can’t-get-a-job” work-dodgers, the scary mentalists, half a dozen irritating charity fundraisers and the fabricated sick-noters, desperate to sort out my very real issue. But I did it!
Well, to a cut a very long story short, after seeing two different consultants (how was I to know she wasn’t leaning in for a kiss, but was going to have a look in my ear?), the medical marvels discovered I have an allergy to beer.
Apparently the yeast causes an allergic reaction, producing water inside the inner part of my ear, and thus a ghostly wooing noise whenever I move my head. This condition can be simply resolved by not drinking beer.
However, Dr Bokla has suggested that I try and find out which other beers and alcoholic drinks I am also allergic to. I have asked him if I should stop taking my numerous medications during this experiment but he has suggested that maybe doubling the dose and undertaking some everyday activities (driving, swimming, cooking etc) might just help complete the test more thoroughly.
See you in Birmingham!
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Millwall v Birmingham
Swansea v Arsenal
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