Sunday evenings are downtime in this house...
Once the jobs are all done; the lunches are prepped, the washing is away - it's designated time to do sweet FA.
BUT. Last night I had my 'project get-everything-done pants' on. Knowing that Christmas is around the corner & soon after a very probable move of house, I'm being ruthless with the things we no longer need or want. Last night it was the kitchen - every cupboard & drawer was gone through, culled & cleaned. In my frenzied "lets do this!" de-cluttering madness, I passed by the oven & seen the state it was in - might as bloody well...
On went the gloves, spray went the "EASY-OFF Oven Cleaner" bottle of holy snapping poison that even though I held my breath and ran away after spraying, still hung in the air and made me gag, cough & spit.... Left for the instructed half an hour to do it's thing, I kept on going through the other cupboards. It was then time, a little after 8pm, to actually clean the oven... gloves back on I got stuck into it, scrubbing away, enjoying the satisfying clean that was coming with each side of the oven - the door is was like a mirror; at the same time my thoughts turned to "Bet no other bastard has their head in their oven cleaning at this time on a Sunday night... it's Outlander night for crying out loud!"
Afterwards, sacrificial chux wipes & scourers went straight into their own bin bag & put in the garage to be taken out of the house. After a thorough wash of everything, buckets, my hands & arms, the cupboards that had gotten splashed a little... it was time to do the chilling out thing. Stardew Valley for me while Jake was watching DnD videos on Youtube. Eyes drooping I finally toddled into bed at around 10:30pm.
As I was drifting off I kept waking with a start, unable to catch my breath properly. I noticed that the back of my tongue & top of my throat were not quite right. I was finding it hard to swallow& could only take proper deep breaths if I concentrated & didn't lat down - I had to sit completely upright.
Telling Jake this he got me a Ibuprofen to bring down the swelling & a hit of Ventolin just to try & keep the airways open. A half hour later when there was no change we tried an antihistamine. When by 12pm there was no change & I had also tried various other methods of reducing the swelling, I was starting to panic, which really wasn't helpful. Jake called 13HEALTH at this point & Anne the RN didn't miss a beat, calling us an ambulance on the spot. Well that made me panic even more. The Rapid Response Ambulance Officer arrived first in her wagon, telling me all of my vitals were fine but because of the symptoms affecting an airway it was important that I went to the hospital until they could identify what had caused it & what to do to fix it.
The ambos with the stretcher came shortly after & told me that they would have to keep me monitored, I let them do their thing, feeling more & more anxious, nauseous & shaky. Not really paying attention to them & concentrating on getting those big lung-fulls of air, spitting saliva as I couldn't physically swallow it. Logan was out of the question - it was full. QEII & Mater were also filling up fast so because we were already on the border of the Gold Coast, we ended up opting to go to the GCUH. Upon arrival it was so quiet, we were the only ambulance in the place & there was a bed straight away, no waiting in corridors. I was glad & felt reassured that I was in the right place for my condition. As I got as comfortable as I could in my bed, still sitting to get those big breaths down, the crazy started. Police Officers dragging a screaming banshee down the corridor' medical alarms going off, the other 2 patients in my bay being drama queens... Not so quiet, then.
When doctor Toby arrived & announced that they had no damn idea what was happening, but explained that it was like an allergic reaction & I needed to be monitored as it was an airway, we chatted, about the what & how. Was it something I'd eaten? Despite the delay between use & symptoms, was it the oven cleaner? After assuring the now 5th person that no I did not eat any of the things I am known to be allergic to, yes I ate a different kind of sausages for dinner from a new Deli with some different flavouring. And no, funnily enough I didn't try to fume up on the oven cleaner... They decided they would give me steroids ("I'll give you some here and send you home with another day or two. No wait, I'll just dose you up big & it'll be good for about 48 hours...") Sounds good... I suppose?
To Short Stay I went to keep monitored until the drugs kicked in. It didn't take too long. By 3:45 I was actually starting to get really drowsy from lack of sleep & when I laid down I found that even though my tongue & throat still felt funny, I was able to doze. Not knowing when I would wake up or be released, I let my boss know I wasn't going to make it to work & let myself fall asleep.
Suddenly it was actual morning (the hours in which other humans area also awake) & I was being woken up by a tiny angel in a Thumper nightie & a giant bear in a Storm Trooper shirt. I felt shaky but so much better. Still not 100% but not struggling for a full breath & able to swallow! Checking my obs for good measure & writing me a letter to take to my GP if things didn't come right after today, Dr Toby assured me that I should come right on back at any sign of trouble like that again but to go home and rest and sleep.. "if you can, I mean those steroids will probably have you buzzing." Thanks Tobes.
So, it could well have been the snags, it could have been any combination of factors - like my toothpaste mixing with some lingering oven cleaner chemical that I had breathed in - who bloody knows. Although they were unable to identify exactly what the issue was, I have my money on the oven cleaner.
After I was released we decided to pop to the shops, get some bacon & hash browns to have a nice family breakfast - something we so often miss out on in the rush to daycare & work. While I tore off the TEN sticky monitors from very soft tender parts of my body & washed away the hospital, Jake made a lovely breakfast. With balls the size of coconuts, he put the hash browns in the oven & said "Gee the oven looks great!" I just had to look at him "It wanna look f***ing great!"
And so the moral to the story, the reason for the write up... Cleaning ovens on Sunday evenings is for psychos & I have learnt my very valuable lesson - next Sunday & every one thereafter I will ensure I park my ass on the couch & enjoy the designated FA time. Which is what I'm going to do right now - with the roids in system making my nerves do Saturday Night Fever in the background but the rest of my body & mind exhausted from the lack of sleep & the general anxiety of it all - it's time for that episode of Outlander.
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