A nasty scare ...

Last Thursday morning I woke up with a very sore throat. It became steadily worse and I reached for my grandmother’s remedy of gargling warm salty water. This didn’t improve the situation and so we went down to the local pharmacy to buy some industrial-strength gargling solution and some painkillers. I was finding it very difficult to swallow and I couldn’t eat even the softest of food.

Friday and I felt as if my tongue had swollen, and I had swallowed broken glass. It’s not in our DNA to rush off to the doctors and so I soldiered on. Sleep was impossible as my mouth filled with saliva, which I could not swallow.

By Saturday I needed some help so we rang the medical centre where my GP is based and were told to come over at ten o’clock. It was empty and the young Dr Maria (as opposed to the older Dr Maria) was there. She questioned and examined me and thought it must be a throat infection of some sort and proposed antibiotics ... but being a junior doctor she telephoned my GP who insisted I saw an ENT consultant.

Being a Saturday this was a problem and each of the GESY ENT specialists was not working. So with a referral we headed off to Paphos General Hospital (having made arrangements for our lovely dog-sitter to come and look after Daisy). When we arrived the Emergency Department it was like an armed camp and I thought at one stage that Ann was going to end up having a firm and frank exchange of views with the triage nurse.

But I was registered and spent the next couple of hours waiting to be seen. A very pleasant young doctor took me off to be examined and said he thought I had a kidney infection, and so I was put on oxygen, a drip and had a very large injection in the backside. An hour later, and there was a change of shift, and a female doctor came to enquire whether the pain in my kidneys had subsided. When I explained that I had not been in pain there, she told me there was no ENT consultant on call.

Shortly afterwards she announced there was a consultant in Limassol on call and he might come out at some time. She also suggested that I might have to be admitted as she did not know when he would arrive. Ann and I decided she would drive home and we would see what we would see. Off she went and ten minutes later a young ENT consultant arrived who had driven from Limassol and really enjoyed the ride on his big motor bike.

He examined me and shoved a camera down my throat to make sure there was no abscess. There wasn’t and he announced he could see the infection. So a prescription for antibiotics, steroids and a magic spray for the pain in my throat was handed over. I rang Ann who was not really up for driving back to Paphos and so she arranged a horrendously expensive taxi to pick me up.

Too late to get the prescription filled we waited until Sunday and off she went to get the stuff I needed. The magic spray worked wonders and I was able to take the antibiotics and the steroid straight away. With more of the magic spray I started to rehydrate and take some food.

By Monday morning I had managed some upright sleep and by the afternoon I was feeling much better. Food and drink are a marvellous restorative, and I slept well on Monday night. By Tuesday I was as right as rain, although tired, and we both managed to talk about the fears we both had that I had caught the dreaded virus - which I hadn’t. A frightening time but “all’s well that ends well”. Keep safe everybody.