Tonsillitis
Doesn't sound fatal does it? What the doctor doesn't tell you is that once a few secondary infections kick in, your fucking throat can swell up tighter than an otter's arsehole. This makes breathing difficult and swallowing water impossible.

Three days of this, and spitting out little bags of puss, convinced me to get my backside down to the doctors. He's a nice guy. Gay as a troupe of hairdressers though, which, much to my shame, was probably why I refused to let him shove a painkiller the size of his thumb up my arse.

I left the surgery to go to the E.N.T. hospital in King's Cross. I blacked out twice on the way (it was only a ten-minute journey).

I was admitted after coughing up a load of nastyness over a nurse who, I think, only offered me the bed to get me out of the consulting room. I don't remember much after that, except for regaining consciousness to find two nurses taking pulse/temperature (106 degrees). One said 'We haven't had one this hot in ages". If I were feeling even marginally human at this point I could possibly have taken advantage of the situation. As it was, I couldn't talk and passed out again.

I was in that bastard hospital for 10 days. Thankfully I was put on intravenous morphine for good chunk of the time. Kids: anyone who tells you drugs suck is a lying sack of shit who has never had a cable pumping a pure opiate into their bloodstream. It's the best thing ever.

I staggered out on Christmas Eve weighing three stone less than I did two weeks earlier. The test for being released was being able to swallow a spoonfull of mashed potato. Isn't science wonderful.

To this day I thank the guy who runs the newsagents a few doors down who, when faced with an emaciated, dribbling near-corpse, still sold me ten Marlboro Lights.

Smoking the fuckers hurt like hell - but it was nothing compared to craving for painkillers I woke up with on Christmas morning.
( Bohica Anne Frank's Bukkaki Tentacle Storm, Thu 25 Nov 2004, 16:19, Reply)