This is just a post to explain what has been going on over the past week or so. Also, what's the point of ending up in hospital if you don't tell the cool story that results?
I'd been going down with a cough which was getting progressively worse until the hostel staff had to drive me to the health centre during Eurovision because I was so short of breath and in pain. The doctor immediately concluded I had bronchitis and was also concerned that the infection had spread and caused pericarditis because of the amount of pain I was in. So I had to have an ECG, meaning that I was supposed to lie completely still and relaxed with 12 electrodes stuck on my chest and abdomen, because muscle contractions would spoil the reading. Unsurprisingly, it took a few tries to get a useable reading; but it turned out that there was nothing wrong with my heart. The doctor gave me co-codamol to take for the pain and said that all I could do for the bronchitis was rest and drink plenty of water.
Cut to Monday evening, and my breathing and coughing sounds so bad over the phone that mum recruits the daughter of a friend of a friend (who lives in Stykkishólmur) via Facebook to rescue me and bring me to the hospital. Once admitted, I was given salbutamol through a breathing mask and intravenous cortisone (having the cannula put in and stuff flushed through it is one of the most uncomfortable things I have ever experienced) to reduce the inflammation in my lungs; as well as an azithromycin tablet in case the cause was bacterial. As cortisone is produced by the body in preparation for the fight-or-flight reflex and salbutamol affects the body in some of the same ways as adrenaline, this made me very jittery.
At about 11pm, once the doctor decided I'd had my vital signs taken enough times for one evening, he offered what he described to me as a 'relax pill' - after some concerted Googling of the imprint it turned out to be oxazepam (a compound related to Valium). I fell asleep not long afterwards.
In the morning I was given porridge with fruit salad, another azithromycin tablet, more steroids (prednisolone tablets, thankfully nothing more intravenously) and more salbutamol to inhale: 
(The thing on my head is just a Buff I'd been wearing on Monday to keep my hair from being annoying and I'd forgotten to take it off after being admitted and before I fell asleep. The bandage on my hand is covering the cannula. I look weird because my face is swollen as a side effect of the steroids.)
After having my vitals taken (and cannula removed) and speaking to the doctor again; then showing my passport and EHIC and sorting out paperwork, I was discharged at around midday. I was given the remaining tablet in my azithromycin course to finish, and a prescription for a week-long tapered course of prednisolone and a salbutamol inhaler in case the bronchitis gets worse again. So far I've been fine, but the doctor advised me not to go anywhere too far from medical care for a while, just in case, so I've had to change my plans again.
Tomorrow I will bring the blog up to date with a post about the volcano museum and cathedral in Stykkishólmur.
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