… and then I sneezed, which, I later discovered resulted in a spontaneous pneumothorax. Yes, not a great deal of fun lemme tell you. It seems these do happen to tall, lanky lads like myself – and short of being stung by a stingray (which I really ought to write a post about sometime) was bloody painful.
While I should have went to emerg in London, I waited till back home on Monday to see my family doctor, which then lad me wandering the adventure that is health care in the province, stopping at his office, a clinic and finally emerg at St. Michael’s.
ANYhow, seems there are two versions of this, the softer kind which is icky but essentially, spontaneously, heals itself, and the Bigger-Than-Elvis-version which is pretty miserable and requires hospitalization and the insertion of a large bore needle through the chest wall. Oh, lovely.