My default medical position? When in doubt, go to bed

Senior Features Writer

Saturday 23 March 2013

I am currently travelling through the land of the unwell.

Custom byline text:

Teddy Jamieson

I say travelling, but I'm hoping it's just a day-trip. Dodgy stomach, a migraine and a general sense of feeling a bit, well, off.

It's nothing a good night's sleep won't cure, I'm sure (1). Admittedly there was a moment today when I thought a curious throb in my left arm might be a heart attack. But it – the throb and the thought – passed quickly and, for the most part, I am the opposite of a hypochondriac. It's nothing, I tend to think. It will be gone by the morning.

When I was 12 or so I read a James Herriot book. At one point he tried to put a sickly dog down, but underestimated the dose because, after a good long sleep, the poorly dog was up and about and not feeling quite so poorly. I've turned that anecdote into my default medical position: when in doubt go to bed. Someone once told me that men between the ages of 20 and 45 visit their GP least, so I guess I'm typical. I reckon I've been to the doctor 10 times in 20 years. I've been in hospital overnight twice, the last time when I was 10 to get my tonsils out. And yet J tells me I'm always moaning about feeling rubbish. Maybe, but I clearly don't feel rubbish enough to bother a professional about it.In fact, I can only really remember being properly sick twice as an adult. I had the flu once. We all say we've had the flu but it's only when you get a proper dose that you realise sniffles and an itchy head aren't quite the same thing. That was the nearest I've had to an out-of-body experience, as I thrashed about in a constant feverish shiver. But the one etched into my memory is when I ate some reheated rice in a Stirling Indian restaurant (thankfully no longer there). I was working in a bookshop at the time. Between starting to feel unwell while sitting on the till and pebble-dashing the storeroom wall with regurgitated mushroom curry took about 30 seconds.I vomited for the next three days. Even when I had nothing to throw up my body was still retching. Not even an injection stopped it. By the time my body finally decided to end its impersonation of a geyser, the blood vessels around my eyes had burst. I looked like a zombie in an advanced state of decay. I could have appeared on The Walking Dead without make-up. Unfortunately vampires were in that year. Shame. Could have been a nice little earner (2).Anyway, time for bed. See you in the morning. All being well.FOOTNOTES[1] If my self-diagnosis turns out to be a bit off please tell the funeral director to play Bjork's All Is Full Of Love and Sandy Denny's Who Knows Where The Time Goes?[2] It took 15 years before I could go to an Indian restaurant again.Twitter: @teddyjamieson

Contextual targeting label:

Health

Commenting & Moderation

We moderate all comments on HeraldScotland on either a pre-moderated or post-moderated basis. If you're a relatively new user then your comments will be reviewed before publication and if we know you well then your comments will be subject to moderation only if other users or the moderators believe you've broken the rules, which are available here.

Moderation is undertaken full-time 9am-6pm on weekdays, and on a part-time basis outwith those hours. Please be patient if your posts are not approved instantly.

My default medical position? When in doubt, go to bed

Commenting & Moderation

MOST READ

SPONSORED LINKS

MOST COMMENTED