As soon as Lisa posted this weeks prompt I knew what I was going to write but I mentioned to her that I’d struggle to get it into 150 words. She suggested writing an explanatory piece to the flash so here it is.
After our camping road trip we came back fired up for our next holiday which my parents had decided would be a sojourn in luxury on an island in the Barrier Reef. In preparation my brother read books about the coral and fish that we would see and then told me all about them. We were very excited and I know my mother and father were also looking forward to it.
My wiping up nausea probably start 6 months after we returned from the road trip. At first, treated as a psychological problem, the family ignored it, with concessions made such as allowing me to sit down to wipe up. This lasted around three months before I collapsed in school assembly. Even then, they believed it was a reaction to the heat of the day and not an indication that I may have been sick.
Eventually, as the nausea started to happen whenever I was standing, my parents took me to our doctor. At a loss, he suggested that maybe I was allergic to dairy products and these were removed from my diet. I was very happy with this outcome as I hated milk, especially the milk we were forced to drink at playtime. It was a government incentive to make sure that all Australian children had enough milk to prevent rickets and to do this they provided school milk: a bottle for each primary school aged child. The milkman dropped this off early in the morning and it sat there in the sun until ten o’clock when we had to drink it. The taste of warm, half-off milk turned my stomach, even before I had my mystery illness.
The removal of dairy products did nothing to improve my condition and the GP could offer no other suggestions as to a possible cause. I guess the adults still thought it was psychological. About two months before our anticipated holiday the vomiting started. At first only when standing but it finally became so severe that it would happen whether I was standing, sitting or lying. At this point I stopped going to school.
They tried me on antibiotics only to find it gave me an allergic reaction. They changed it to a different type which had no side-effects for me but still no improvement to my vomiting. Around this point in my mystery illness that my mother told me she was sorry for not believing me when I said I felt sick. The next thing I know they admit me to hospital.
Although I was only six, for some reason they admitted me to the adult ward. I don’t know why when they had a children’s ward. The occupant of the two-bed room they put me in was a delightful old lady, Mrs Little, who took me under her wing and looked after me. She had the softest skin reminding me of my grandma. I think she was very sick. She always comforted me when my parents left after visiting hours and made me feel safe.
One afternoon my parents and my brother arrived and with a day pass took me out of hospital to see a specialist in Lismore, a larger country town. We loved going to Lismore as they had soft serve ice cream which they served in cones. The specialist was in an upstairs room overlooking the river. He sat behind a huge desk that had a leather section in the centre. My dad’s desk had a removable one that was a red, worn leather base with leather corners on the upper side that held sheets of blotting paper but this specialist had his writing pad built into the desk. He sat on his side of the desk and the four of us sat in a straight line on the other side.
He asked lots of questions then I had to get up on the examination couch, also leather, for him to prod and poke me. On completion of the examination, I was told to wee into this little container. With that he then put a potty on the floor and told me to go to the toilet. I refused. There was no way that I was going to go to the toilet in front of a perfect stranger, my parents and my brother. I fought with my mother as she tried to pull my pants down. She won that battle but she couldn’t force me to pee. I sat on that potty for a long time whilst they tried every trick under the sun. They turned on taps hoping the water running would have the desired effect, they promised me an ice cream if I filled the little pot and they tried threatening me. There was nothing they could do to make me go in front of them. Eventually they gave up.
We had got no more than ten minutes away from there when I started ” Mummy I want to go to the toilet.” My parents were not impressed and my mother expressed her anger verbally. With me in tears, I returned to the hospital where I spent another two weeks. During this time my parents decided to cancel our booking for the Queensland island in the Great Barrier Reef as it was unknown whether I would be well enough to travel. For awhile my brother was very angry with me for spoiling his holiday. My Mum and Dad must have been disappointed also but they hid it well and did not blame me for it.
According to my mother no-one ever diagnosed what was wrong with me. The vomiting eventually went by itself (unless the antibiotics eventually helped) but the nausea when I stand still remains today. I’m okay if I’m moving or sitting but to stand still is just impossible. To watch me wiping up, instead of the stool, I now jiggle or walk around and apart from ice cream other dairy products are not a part of my diet.
Bite Size Memoir
I could not stand without the nausea hitting me. The diagnosis was psychological and it wasn’t until I started vomiting that my parents and doctor believed I was ill. They tried antibiotics to no avail so they admitted me to hospital for observation and tests.
The small town had limited specialist services so we went to a larger town. My family sat on one side of the huge wooden desk staring at the doctor on the other.
After a history taking and an examination the doctor produced a potty which he sat on the floor in full view of my brother, parents and himself. “Do a wee in the pot” he said. No way, I thought, not with everyone watching. They cajoled, turned on taps, offered bribes of ice-cream but I was determined not to pee.
Ten minutes after leaving I demanded a toilet stop resulting in a very angry mother.
http://sharingthestoryblog.wordpress.com/2014/06/13/bite-size-memoir-no-7-childhood-illness/
Reflections and Nightmares- Irene A Waters (writer and memoirist) 
Wow, how immensely frustrating for you. Those illnesses that are never diagnosed are bad enough as an adult. Hope it’s not too bad nowadays
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No I don’t give it a thought. I have just learnt to keep moving or sit and as I’m on the hyperactive side moving suits me well.
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What a thing to have to deal with! Good thing you didn’t fancy going into the armed forces. (Or did you?)
What springs to my completely non-medical mind is something wrong with your inner ear (like sea-sickness without the sea) but no doubt the gurus have thought of that and ruled it out.
As for the milk – remember it well! The cream rose to the top so the first mouthful of warm, on-the-turn gloop coated your mouth until lunchtime.
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The milk was ghastly. It was such a joy to have permission not to have to drink it. Your description has left me with a taste in my mouth.
I’ve never bothered having it investigated as the only time it affects me is if I have to stand still (which I’ve learnt to avoid) and these days I just don’t really give it a thought. I think my husband would like it if I could stand still as he’s always falling over the contorted positions I put myself into in the kitchen. Inner ear is a high possibility and no I never had any thought of joining the forces.
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How upsetting it must have been for you! In my experience, one of the worst things about being ill is not being understood by people who aren’t ill… That may be why you got on so well with Mrs. Little, who understood how you felt…That’s a lovely memory…
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She was a lovely memory. I think that hospital experience would have been quite different without her.
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🙂
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It certainly sounds mysterious, Irene, on what made you sick that still, in part, remains today. With the technology today, you’d think they’d have discovered what it is by now. I don’t blame you for standing your ground on peeing in the pot. Even as a child, you knew where to draw the line. Kudos! I like that. 🙂
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Thanks Pat. It isn’t a huge problem today and I’ve never bothered investigating it further, I just never stand still and if I’m forced to I fidget and sit as soon as possible. Cheers 🙂
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Welcome, Irene. Glad it’s not a problem and you work it out. Funny about those childhood things and how we remember them today. Take care and I’m glad you’re doing good. 🙂
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🙂
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How very frustrating to never get an answer to a problem that continues to plague you.
I don’t think it’s uncommon for children to have their issues discounted which is really unfortunate … especially for someone like you where the problem becomes quite dramatic!
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Yes it was quite peculiar but it isn’t a huge problem now. I just can’t stand still but I avoid situations where I have to (easy now my Mum has a walker as she can generallty get a seat and I use her wheelie walker’s seat) and I just keep moving otherwise.
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Your story really resonated with me because I can’t stand still without some movement either or I get light headed and nauseated … but never anything as extreme as you.
Usually I just get a bad headache, although I’ve fainted several times. Long line-ups and crowded places make me feel a little panicky because of it.
I can’t say I’ve ever really questioned it though. I’m otherwise healthy.
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Sounds like we probably have a very similar thing. I don’t get the headaches but certainly the nausea and light- headedness. Otherwise I too am healthy and it really doesn’t affect me doing anything I want to (unless perhaps I’d have more courage at the edge of those cliffs without it). Some things you just live with as you know. 🙂
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How awful for you! It sounded a little like chronic labrynthitis at first , but now I’m thinking it has something to do with how your blood pressure is maintained when you are upright but not moving.
A true puzzle. I will also talk about a childhood illness sometime this week, but will blow the word limit!
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It could be something to do with BP as it is how I feel when my blood pressure drops. Look forward (I hope) to your post.
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What a story this is Irene! I can feel the tension as you refuse to pee. We have quite a few similarities you and I, as you will see in my ‘illness’ post. What is it about the age 6? I remember every time I spent time in the school holidays with my dad and then step mum I would get ill and they told me it was ‘all in my mind’. The fact that my step mum washed the dishes in lukewarm water with grease floating on the top of everything and also used the same water at the same time to wash the dog’s bowls was beside the point…
I’m glad you found a way to combat the nausea problem and didn’t let it hold you back. And as for the school milk, we had just the same system in the UK as I’m sure you know. Oh the memories… 😉
Great getting to know more and more about you Irene, thanks for sharing this but sorry for what you had to deal with…hugs…<3
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I’m looking forward to your post Sherri. It’s strange knowing that across continents and hemispheres life is so similar. Of course being part of the Commonwealth we were probably more English than the English at one point and certainly all our systems came from the UK. Times have changed somewhat and I think we copy American things in equal portion now although I would like to think that Australia was making its own way I don’t think that is quite the case. New Zealand on the other hand is definitely its own country now.
Its lovely getting to know each other better. We’ll feel as though we were friends from childhood as we progress. Hope your week is going well. Cheers Irene ❤
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So sorry to hear your mysterious childhood condition prevailed, but I admire your resilience to make accommodations for yourself. I would love to hear more about Mrs. Little… perhaps she might make an appearance in a later bite of memoir? I empathize with the “potty” and angry mother situation. 😉
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For a small country town it was odd because I had’t met Mrs Little before going to hospital and from discharge I never saw her again. I have a feeling that she was very sick so possibly ….. At that time though she was crucial in my coping with my hospital stay and I’ll always remember her fondly. Cheers Irene
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The illness is bad enough, but the potty in front of doc and family is over the top! Amazing how we learn to compensate. Good thing you’re on the hyper side and can contort in the kitchen!
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I think in those days it was not expected that children had feelings they just did what they were told. Unfortunately for my parents I didn’t quite do that.
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