First and foremost thank you so much for all of your thoughts, reassurances, wishes and practical advice. Yet again and with all sincerity MN is the sole reason I have come through something I otherwise may have crumbled against. You can't know how much you helped me last night when I felt very alone and frightened.
More importantly, DH is just fine. Well, approaching fine but he will be back on form in no time.
He has absolutely no recollection of last night but I have managed to piece together what happened from nurses/auxiliaries/paramedics/porters. He was ushered into the alternate universe that is the out of hours service here in deepest darkest Norfolk where you leave your loved ones on the other side and cut off all contact whilst simultaneously signing off your dignity as the burly doctor stuffs suppositories into a place even your doting wife isn't interested in. The first of a veritable plethora of needles was introduced to his arm to counteract the nausea and he was whisked off via ambulance to the bright, shining lights of the proper hospital where there are phones and people who can communicate beyond confirmation of a patient's probable existence.
I am assured that dh managed to quite successfully vomit on one paramedic and although he aimed his second attempt into a bowl, a particularly well placed pot hole emptied this offering over the other paramedic. I feel this is divine retribution for speedy boy paramedic who was playing Rally Driver 4: Where Ambulances Attack during my homebirth transfer. He was pushed through the hospital with many blankets over his head to block out the warming glow of the fluorescent lights and thankfully some of his sense of humour seemed to reappear at this point as he mumbled at bemused staff that he wasn't up to an appearance right now but would attempt a few autographs in the morning. Of course this may not be humour and the worst had happened and he was hallucinating that he was, in fact, Gareth Gates.
Several unsuspecting nurses and doctors attempted to shine lights in his eyes and I won't insult your eyes with the short but offensive response they met. After being shuffled round various departments of the hospital, a trio of needles and encore of a canula, he was sent for a CT scan. This revealed two very fortunate facts. Firstly, he had a brain and secondly, it was normal in appearance albeit slightly swollen. He was swiftly rehydrated and given pain medication, the lumbar puncture cancelled and he was wheeled into God's waiting room, a ward in the N&N I had never seen before where DH may have been pleased to see that it was all women, less pleased perhaps that they had a mean age of 97.
He has been prodded, poked, lit up like a Christmas tree (tres festive) and generally fiddled with and the conclusion is that he had a severe migraine, dehydration and a lot of swelling as a result of both. When I arrived this morning he was fast asleep and even his energetic dd playing with his feet and shouting 'dadadadadada' at him failed to rouse him. He is sleepy, a bit disorientated and foggy but he is home. He has been told a timely trip to the GP to find a medication for his migraines is in order to prevent this from happening again.
He is making a solid impression on some pick n mix so order is restoring chez SOH.
Thank you each and every one of you for last night/today. Truly, you helped enormously and me and dh are very grateful. He might even share his pick n mix with you.
Delighted and tired .
(too much pick n mix)