Hollie vs. The NHS

So when I was back in NYC I couldn't see a doctor because like most out of work Americans I have no health insurance. I had to just hope my dizzy would stop long enough for me to fly to London. Lucky me... it did! But only a few hours after my arrival it hit me hard.

When I woke up from my 12 hour nap my friend HR called the NHS help line. (That's the UK's health care service hotline) Of course they had to call back because there was a large queue. Several hours later I get a call from a nurse named John. A very lively chap. I told him all my symptoms and he sat for a moment. Then he did something very unexpected... he let out a small laugh and said "I donno. Never heard that before. How unusual." Really John the nurse? You never heard of people getting dizzy after they eat? Then I thought 'what the hell is wrong with me if the health care hotline hasn't heard this one yet.' I would imagine they would have heard of far stranger things than that.

So he classified it as a non-emergency which meant I couldn't go to the ER. I had to first go to a walk in center. He told me I should wait until Monday as well so I could go to one with a GP. The ones open on the weekend just had nurses. And as he didn't know what was wrong with me he felt they wouldn't either. (But not being able to eat... isn't that an emergency?)

This meant two more days of spinning in my head. Well, I spent the day/night in bed after a brief trip to the park where we sat in the sun and worked on our piece for the showcase. After a while we switched from the park only filled with dogs running loose to the Common which was filled with a sea of bodies. We found a place to sit but had to keep moving as the sun went behind the tree and it's shadow grew and grew. In the shade it felt 10 degrees colder and when you're wearing only a Tank and skirt that's not the best feeling in the world. But I seemed fine until we got back inside and I ate dinner.

On Sunday HR made more calls to the NHS. We found a walk in clinic with a GP on staff. It was close to her flat, clean and more importantly... empty. Now by this point my intake of food was... well... lacking because it made me so panicky as well. Which means I was very weak... like anorexic weak I would imagine. I was living on banana's. The only thing that didn't make my head turn. But this Doctor who was not a native English speaker called Dizzy "Izzy". I kept correcting him thinking does he understand what I am saying?

He took my blood pressure, my blood sugar levels, listened to my heart beat, listened to my symptoms. At one point I thought I was going to black out so I pulled out a banana. "Are you eating?" He says and I think.. shit he hasn't listened to a word I said... just nodding his head!. "No" I reply and I saw it in his eyes. He thought I was anorexic. No fool... I love my food that's the problem here... my body is the one stopping me. Okay not helping my case here... So after a few minutes of hardly anything he says everything seems fine. You may be hypoglycemic. But I don't have diabetes or take medication so that's highly unlikely. He went on to say I need to go see my GP. I was like I don't have one that's why I am here. He said I should register with one. I'm on a temp visa can't do it Mr. So HR asked if he could refer me. He said no. So why was I there? Defeated we headed back to her flat where I looked up hypoglycemia and just decided to follow the diet. At least it's something. It mainly consisted of very small portions many times a day. No sugar, alcohol, white flour, or caffeine. All my loves in life.... gone.

HR made me a tiny salad and I ate it slowly. I'm not a natural slow eater. This took time and practice to get right. Normally with two big fork fulls and the thing would have been gone. But I caught on and ate slower than I ever thought possible.

And that was my first weekend in London, having to eat hardly anything and just staying in bed as HR called NHS half a dozen times. But it was clear they weren't helping. So she called her mom, her dad, her brother, her sister-in-law. Everyone said 'is she pregnant?' Apparently that's how they all found out they were... but no. I'm not pregnant. Seven sticks don't lie. Well, they didn't know beyond that.

HR then called her own doctor and asked how could I register. First I had to prove that I lived in her flat too and show my passport. Well... I do have a student visa and I did live here for a year... a year ago. So HR decided that Tues she would take me to the doctors and if they wouldn't see me then we would go to the ER.

But this was a day away... so far the hypoglycemic diet was working. I wasn't dizzy as of late just very very tired and light headed with a massive headache... and fearing the worst... a life with out sugar, caffeine, and alcohol! How could this have happened?!