A tale of two shitties.

Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? Where did we leave off? Ah, that’s right; we were about to leave the Algarve and head off to visit Lisbon and Coimbra. In which case, this blog could be called A Tale of Two Cities. Instead, a more appropriate title would be A Tale of 200 Shitties.

I may have neglected to mention at the end of the Algarve blog that the day before we left I had picked up some kind of stomach bug. Perhaps this is because I felt that my bowel habits should remain personal. Perhaps I still had a little dignity left. Not so much now!

I’ll try to be as concise as possible, but it really isn’t going to be possible to tell you about the last 2 weeks without mentioning the fact that I have been rushed to hospital in an ambulance after suffering severe side effects from diarrhoea. If you are currently eating, or have a weak stomach, you may want to skip to the next blog.

10-4-17

We left the Algarve’s rugged coastline, forested mountains and orange groves behind and entered the massive plain of Ajelemento. The flat landscape and huge skies are quite similar to Norfolk, except for the cork trees and olive groves. Apparently, the people of the area suffer from being the butt of the rest of the country’s jokes, just like Norfolk. The best one I was told is about the man from Ajelemento who keeps an empty bottle in his fridge, for his friends who don’t drink. Don’t blame me; I didn’t make it up!

Eventually, we turned Westwards, into Estremadura, and headed to our destination on the Western coast- Foz do Arelho, an hour North of Lisbon. And wow! The entrance to the resort is simply breath-taking! There are countless near-misses every day, as people catch their first glimpse of the Atlantic Ocean crashing against the cliffs either side of a huge lagoon.

To be honest, the apartment was a bit of a disappointment. It smelled strongly of damp; not surprising really, as it was perched on top of a cliff and was constantly covered in the spray from the ocean. Unfortunately, it also smelled of wet dog! Still, it was clean. For Steve, the saving grace was the amazing views from every window. For me- it was the toilet- POO ALERT!!!!!- yes, the tablets I had taken to get me through the drive just lasted long enough for the host to show us the apartment!

 

ARRIVED IN FOZ, WOW…….. A FANTASTIC VIEW OF THE BEACH WELCOMED US. IT WAS TRULY STUNNING.

WE LOOKED AT THE SCENERY FOR A GOOD 20 MINUTES TAKING IT ALL IN, BEFORE GOING TO THE APARTMENT.

THE APARTMENT WASN’T TOO BAD SIZE WISE, IT WAS GOING TO SERVE ITS PURPOSE BUT THE SMELL OF DAMP WAS NOT SO GOOD………… BUT THE VIEW THROUGH THE PICTURE WINDOWS WAS WHAT IT WAS ALL ABOUT!

ALSO THE FELLA WHO WE WERE RENTING THE APARTMENT FROM KINDLY INFORMED US WE COULD EAT AS MANY MUSHROOMS OFF THE BACK OF THE BOG DOOR AS WE LIKED!!!!!!!!! J

 

 

 

 

11-4-17 to 14-4-17

This was the pattern for the next week. By eating very little and taking the tablets that “Stop diarrhoea in 30 minutes.” I was able to leave the flat for a couple of hours each day. This meant that we weren’t able to visit the cities for sightseeing, but we did manage to spend some time in some beautiful nearby towns and resorts.

Two of my favourites were Santa Martinho: a gorgeous, sweeping, horse-shoe shaped cove, backed by sand-dunes and lined with stylish small hotels; and Obidas: a medieval town, enclosed within castellated battlements and full of winding, cobbled streets, beautiful churches and plazas. It was here that I got to watch an Easter parade on Good Friday.

As the week wore on, I was getting increasingly frustrated by the limitations of the ongoing stomach bug, and a little worried that my hands and feet were tingling, like mild pins and needles. We knew that this was likely to be the effects of dehydration and low electrolytes, but, although I was drinking buckets of water, and had found a pharmacy that sold Dioralyte, to be blunt, nothing stayed in for long enough to have an effect. We decided that it was time to find a Dr or clinic, but of course, at Easter weekend, that was proving difficult.

WE WENT TO OBDIOS AS JULIE WANTED TO SEE THE GOOD FRIDAY PARADE.

WE EVENTUALLY FOUND WHERE THE PARADE WAS STARTING. A SMALL CROWD HAD GATHERED AND CHATTED IN EXCITED VIOCES. (NOW I FIND SITUATIONS LIKE THIS EITHER VERY BORING OR HIGHLY AMUSING!!!!! TODAY IT WAS GOING TO BE HIGHLY AMUSING.) AS THE PRIEST STARTED TO ADDRESS THE CROWDS, I STARTED TO SEE AND HEAR THE WHOLE THING AS A CROSS BETWEEN AN EPISODE OF FATHER TED AND MONTY PYTHON’S LIFE OF BRIAN. (AS YOU DO!)

AS SOON AS THE PRIEST STARTED HIS FIRST OF MANY SHORT SERMONS IN VARIOUS LOCATIONS AROUND THE VILLAGE. (WE WALKED MILES!!) THE MICROPHONE HE WAS USING STARTED TO PLAY UP, HE KEPT LOOKING AT THE OTHER PRIEST WITH A PANICKED LOOK ON HIS FACE AND TAPPING THE MIC. I (AS YOU DO.) STARTED TO GET THE GIGGLES. MRS LETHAL SHOT ME A LOOK (WHICH COULD HAVE KILLED A MERE MORTAL.) THIS MADE THE WHOLE SITUATION WORSE, I ANNOUNCED I AM GOING TO HAVE A FAG AND WALKED OFF. ONCE OUT OF MRS LETHAL’S RANGE I FELL APART AND CRACKED UP LAUGHING. JULIE TELLING ME OFF MADE THE WHOLE THING EVEN MORE HYSTERICAL.

I MANAGED TO COMPOSE MYSELF JUST IN TIME TO FOLLOW THE CROWD, RECITING (IN MY HEAD.) MONTY PYTHONS LIFE OF BRIAN ALONG THE WAY, WITH LINES LIKE “YOU’RE ALL INDIVIDUALS. YOU DON’T HAVE TO FOLLOW ANYONE.” OR “IT’S HIS GOURD……. WORSHIP HIS GOURD.”

I MANAGED TO STAY OUT OF TROUBLE FOR THE REST OF THE EVENING, YOU’LL BE PLEASED TO KNOW…… WHICH WAS NICE. J

15-4-17

Easter Saturday. I was determined to visit the beach for a couple of hours, but this was not to be.

The pins and needles that had been troubling me all week suddenly became much worse. You know when you have sat cross legged, or woken up having slept on your arm, to find that the limb has gone completely numb and useless, and you know that it’s going to get worse, because when the blood rushes back in, you’re going to get that intense tingling?

OK, now magnify that by 10.

And now imagine that it is in every limb, but also creeping across your chest, stomach, neck and face.

Now; in your hands, where the tingling first started, the muscles are seizing up, pulling your fingers into rigid claws. The muscles in your forearms start contracting too, so that you have no choice but to pull them up to your face.

Those of you who know me well can create your own pictures of what my toes were doing.

OK, enough now. Let’s just say, it was f###ing scary! So, of course, I decided I was dying, or about to have a heart attack. So I launched into a series of perfectly useless ramblings and instructions for Steve.

Unsurprisingly, Steve was wonderful! Calm, reassuring, and totally in control. In between trying to calm me down, he also managed to call an ambulance (Not easy in Portuguese), dress me, gather all the medical notes, passports, E111s, travel insurance etc.

The ambulance arrived quickly and the 2 Bombeiros (Firemen with basic first aid training), quickly decided to take me to hospital. The poor blokes tried to get me on my feet, but it soon became obvious that that wasn’t going to happen, so they were forced to carry me down a long flight of narrow stairs.

Obviously, they didn’t speak a word of English, but I think “Fat, crazy, English cow!” is pretty universal. Steve had to follow in the car, while I spent the 20 minute ambulance ride in the back, with the least charming Bombeiro, who seemed to think that this was just a panic attack and kept telling me to “Calma, calma.” That was, until he tried to take my blood pressure and realised that my arms were now as stiff as a marble statue.

 

An hour later, having been seen by several triage nurses and finally, a Doctor, the rigidity had subsided, until I was left with the tingling and very achy muscles! The general consensus seemed to be that I had suffered an anxiety attack. Steve had also seen similar effects in someone suffering a panic attack. But I knew it was more than that….. or did I? Suddenly, I felt such a muppet! What if that’s what it was? God knows what this was going to cost us, and surely travel insurance wouldn’t pay out for that?

Thankfully, the Doctor decided to do some blood tests, and a canula was put in, in case I needed fluids for dehydration. After a very long wait in the emergency ward corridor, the results showed that I had dangerously low potassium and magnesium levels. Apparently, this is what had caused my symptoms. I was, as the Doctor explained, “a bookcase”. I think he meant a text-book case. I needed an ECG, to check that no damage had been caused to my heart.

The good news was that the ECG was clear ( I thought my heart rate might be a little raised when I had to strip off for the ECG with the curtains wide open to the busy Emergency corridor), and that the fluids and minerals could be replaced via an IV drip. The bad news was that it’s dangerous to administer them too quickly, and I would have to stay in hospital overnight! AAArgh!

So, after more blood tests ( 6 very painful attempts to find an artery), I was sent to my new home base for the next 12 hours- the Emergency corridor- shall I describe it?

Grim! Bleak! Dirty! Depressing!

Patients are not given beds if they are able to sit, so half a dozen PVC chairs are lined up along the corridor. Above each is a hook for IV drips and an oxygen outlet. In the time I was there, nobody was offered so much as a glass of water, let alone tea and biscuits. Among the patients were the very old, very ill and mentally disturbed. There seemed to be no information given to them about what would happen next. Nobody spoke; neither the staff to the patients, nor the patients to each other. I didn’t expect much in the way of a chat, since nobody seemed to speak English, but I suppose I kind of expected fellow Portuguese patients to at least acknowledge each other.

I can’t criticise the staff; they were absolutely rushed off their feet, dealing with at least 10 patients  each. I’ve since found out that the average wage for a nurse in Portugal is around 500 euros a month. All I will say is that we are incredibly lucky in Britain, and that I sincerely hope that the cuts to our own NHS won’t see our own service reduced to the state the Portuguese NHS is in.

I’d long since sent Steve back to the apartment, as there was nowhere for him to even sit, and had resigned myself to a very long night, when, out of the blue, at around midnight, a Doctor I hadn’t seen before told me that I had received enough Magnesium and Potassium to be out of danger, and that I could take the rest in tablet form over the next few weeks. I could go home!

So finally, at around 1am, Steve was able to pick me up, just 12 hours after we had first arrived.

Well, we did want an adventure!

 

STREWTH WHAT A DAY!!!!!!!!!!!

STEVE’S TIPS FOR MEDICAL EMERGENCIES ABROAD.

  1. FIRSTLY- IF GOING ABROAD, MAKE SURE YOU CAN PRONOUNCE THE NAME OF THE RESORT AND THE ADDRESS OF THE APARTMENT. SHOUTING AND GESTICULATING WHILST ON THE PHONE DOES NOT HELP OR WORK APPARENTLY.

REMAIN CALM!

  1. WHEN LOOKING OUT FOR THE AMBULANCE AND TRYING TO KEEP AN EYE ON THE PATIENT, PLEASE ENSURE THAT YOU REMOVE ANY SMALL RUGS THAT ARE AROUND THE APARTMENT. AS YOU WILL INEVITABLY (AS I DID.) SKID AROUND ON THEM (IT LOOKS LIKE YOU ARE ELEGANTLY GLIDING ACROSS THE ROOM, IT DOES MAKE THE PATIENT THINK YOU ARE REMAINING COOL, CALM AND COLLECTED THOUGH.) BUT YOU WILL END UP STACKING IT INTO A DOOR FRAME.

REMAIN CALM!

  1. WHEN FOLLOWING THE AMBULANCE, WHO IS ON BLUES AND TWOS TO THE HOSPITAL.

PLEASE TRY TO REMEMBER THAT:

DRIVING WITH YOUR HEADLIGHTS ON FULL BEAM, FOG LIGHTS ON AND KEEPING YOUR HAND ON THE HORN AND SHOUTING AND SWEARING AT THE LOCALS (WHO TO BE HONEST SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO DRIVE. THEY ARE TRULY FUCKTARDS.) IS NOT QUITE THE SAME AS BLUE LIGHTS.

REMAIN CALM!

  1. ONCE YOU ARRIVE AT THE HOSPITAL YOU WILL NEED LOTS OF PATIENCE. THE WHOLE LANGUAGE BARRIER AND WAY SYSTEMS WORK ABROAD ARE NOT ANYTHING LIKE THE GOOD OLD NHS. YOU MAY ALSO ENCOUNTER A BIT OF CASUAL RACISM FROM THE LOCALS, WHILST GOING THROUGH THE INITIAL TRIAGE STAGE UPON ARRIVAL AT HOSPITAL. IF THIS DOES HAPPEN, TURN THE OTHER CHEEK. DO NOT PUFF YOUR CHEST OUT AND MOUTH OUT EFF OFF TO THE SAID PERSON AND HER TWO 25 YR OLD SONS. (WHO WOULD QUITE HONESTLY HAVE PUT ME IN HOSPITAL.) NO MATTER HOW FULL OF ADRENALINE YOU ARE.

REMAIN CALM.

  1. ONCE YOU HAVE SEEN THE DOCTOR AND HE DECIDES WHAT TREATMENT YOUR NEAREST AND DEAREST NEEDS.

TRY NOT TO LOOK ALARMED AT THE TREATMENT AREA AND TRY NOT TO LOOK SHOCKED AT HOW DICKENSIAN AND GRUBBY IT IS. SMILE AND KEEP SAYING “YOU WILL BE OUT OF HERE IN A COUPLE OF HOURS” (CONVINCINGLY OF COURSE.) WHEN YOU ARE THEN TOLD THAT ACTUALLY THE TREATMENT IS GOING TO TAKE 12 HOURS NOT A COUPLE THAT YOU ORIGINALLY TOLD YOU.

REMAIN CALM.

  1. WHEN YOU HAVE YOUR HAVE RECEIVED THE CALL, THAT YOUR NEAREST AND DEAREST IS BEING DISCHARGED FROM THE HOSPITAL. (6 HOURS EARLIER THAN YOU EXPECTED!! IS THIS CORRECT WHO MADE THIS DECISION, THE EFFIN CLEANER???) TRY NOT TO DRIVE LIKE A BAT OUTTA HELL TO PICK HER UP AS THE LOCAL OLD BILL DON’T LIKE IT……. THANKFULLY A HAND GESTURE FROM THEM TO SLOW DOWN WAS ALL I GOT. (AT LEAST I THINK THAT’S THAT WHAT THEY WERE GESTURING TO ME!!!)

REMAIN CALM.

  1. ONCE YOU BOTH GET BACK TO THE APARTMENT AND YOUR LOVED ONE IS SAFE AND YOU CAN LOOK AFTER HER YOURSELF. (AS YOU KNOW WHAT SHE NEEDS BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE.) YOU WILL NEED TO POUR YOURSELF A EFFIN BIG BRANDY AND SLUMP INTO THE ARCHAIR TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND REFLECT ON THE DAYS EVENTS AND THINK TO YOURSELF. “ARRRHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HOW THE HELL DID WE MANAGE TO GET THROUGH THAT- WHAT IF THIS HAD HAPPENED- WHAT IF THAT HAD HAPPENED”

YOU SEE DEAR READER MAINTAINING THE OLD ENGLISH STIFF UPPER LIP AND REMAINING CALM WORKS A TREAT!!! (NOT GOOD FOR YOUR MENTAL HEALTH THOUGH.)

I NEVER WANT EITHER OF US TO GO THROUGH AN EVENT LIKE THAT AGAIN.

 

 

 

16/4/17

 

Happy Easter! I feel like I have been lifting weights- achy, bruised, weak- and still got diarrhoea!

No pharmacists open, of course, so Steve came back bearing gifts- bananas! Good source of potassium apparently!

In the meantime, I had the task of calling my girls, to tell them what had happened. There literally hadn’t been time yesterday, and when there was time, there was no phone signal. To their credit, neither of them told me to get myself home immediately, as I obviously wasn’t mature and responsible enough to look after myself.

I was desperate to spend some time out in the fresh air, but the beaches were packed with Portuguese families enjoying the gorgeous weather on Easter Sunday, so Steve thought it would be a great idea to take me on an adventure to the top of a cliff, via a 4 wheel drive track, of course. Bless him!

Can’t wait to move on to Porto tomorrow. This area is beautiful, but holds horrible memories now.

WELL YOU CANT PLEASE EVERYONE CAN YOU! IT WAS ONLY A WEE BIT MUDDY- ROCKY – BOUNCY SLIGHTLY OFF ROAD CLIFF TOP TRACK. THE VIEWS AT THE SUMMIT WERE AMAZING. (IT WOULD HAVE CHEERED ME UP IF I WAS FEELING ROUGH.) J

P.S MAYBE IT WASN’T SUCH A GOOD IDEA…… MY BAD!!! OOOP’S.

19 thoughts on “A tale of two shitties.”

  1. You two are a bloody nightmare. No holiday is complete without a Leithy day out.

    Miss you both xxx

  2. Hope you are feeling much better now, but have to admit pmsl at Your comments Steve 😂😂😂

  3. Sorry to hear about your medical problems and circumstances. Hope you are feeling better and well on the way to a full recovery. They say that brandy is a good cure!!!!
    Take care,
    Love J and T x

  4. Gawd you two shouldn’t be left unsupervised!!! I hope you’re feeling better Julie xx

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