12 Days In March – Memories
Day 1 – Tuesday
The morning was pretty quiet – we packed up in the hotel, and took our cases to the hospital. Then we found out we could not gain access to the room we were provided with until 3pm. So we left our cases at reception and went out for lunch, and to look around the area so my beloved would know where the shops and stuff were.
Then we went back in, and I went up to the Surgical Admissions Ward (which was referred to as SAW – not the best acronym in history!) only to find out that I wasn’t expected! It took an hour to sort out my records, but eventually they did and I was prepped for the day after.
Then my beloved and I went up to the PB Room – what appeared to be a converted office, then out for tea and back to sleep.
Day 2 – Wednesday
I got up around 6:30am, and headed down to the SAW. I had a quick shower and got into a gown. We put my clothes into a plastic bag (and that was the last time we saw those clothes for 8 days!) then waited for me to be sent down.
Around 7:45 the porters came to get me, and I was put on to a trolley. My beloved came with me up to the doors of the theatre, and then we said goodbye.
I was taken inside, and that is pretty much the last thing I remember, because it was at that point I was given the general anesthetic……
Day 3 – Day 6 : Thursday to Sunday
My memories of this period are somewhat fuzzy, mostly due to the large amount of morphine and other painkillers flooding my system. But, in my limited defence, I was getting over having my chest bone cracked open and stapled back together 🙂
It was the period I was in the ITU North.
The things I do remember are :-
Having compression stockings put on (and trying not to flinch. People say having insanely ticklish feet is not a bad thing, but trust me – it can be!)
Having a "tight mask" put on to force my lungs to re-inflate.
My beloved sat by my bedside each and every day, even when I was sleeping and incoherent.
My beloved reading chapter 1 of Rilla of Ingleside to me.
Taking my first walk around the ICU with my towel (I became very attached to my towel. Douglas Adams might not have been talking about heart surgery patients, but he was right about always keeping your towel with you!)
Having increasingly strange hallucinations (writing on blank tables, George Bush and Bill Clinton fighting each other, the ITU having 100 beds instead of 10, a couple sleeping in the same bed next to me and – on the Saturday evening – my girlfriend’s hair turning into tiny spiders and eating her eyes). Happily these faded on Sunday and had gone by Monday. I put them down to a truly screwed up sleep schedule!
Calling my beloved adorable and apparently making her blush when I did. Then calling the nurse who was taking me up to the ward adorable as well, since she asked if it was only my beloved who was adorable 🙂
Having no clue about the passage of time.
Having two CAT scans.
Things I think I remember, but that I might have dreamed :-
Having a feeding tube put down my nose and throwing up all over the bed because of it.
Day 6 – Sunday (Evening)
I was moved to the ward on Sunday evening, and I got a single room (which was nice!)
The first thing that happened was a nurse took my blood pressure. Which would have been okay, except she took it on my right arm, which had had an arterial line in for five days. Needless to say, it hurt quite a lot and from then on, the blood pressure was taken on the left arm!
Day 6 – Day 11 (Sunday – Friday)
While I do remember more of the time on the ward, the days did pretty much run together simply because they were so similar.
Things I do remember :-
Taking walks with the Physio Lady up and down the ward, and then up and down the stairs (at which point my insanely ticklish feet were a curse again, because my slippers came off and the compression stockings were way too slippery to walk in!)
Reading "Lost In Middle Earth" to my beloved.
Almost banishing my beloved for making me laugh way too much ("Doctor Bear and Nurse Shark")
My beloved sitting with me every day (again)
Doing various puzzles.
Introducing my beloved to The Newsroom (ep 1 – 5)
Falling asleep to The Princess Bride.
Being asked a lot about whether I had "opened my bowels"
Visits from Dr Francesca, Dr Phil and Nurse Nathalie.
Bursting out laughing during an examination by Dr Fiona (consultant cardiologist) because Dr Francesca said "oh – we have the wrong patient" (turns out it wasn’t about me, but still – a lot of giggling ensued!)
Walking (yes WALKING!!) down to get an x-ray.
Day 11 – Friday
Friday was supposed to be my discharge day, but it went a tad wrong for various reasons.
First – the surgeons who were examining me got bleeped to a heart attack in the ITU (so they left half way through and didn’t return, which is fair enough!)
Second – no one could decide on my medicine requirements and by 4pm there were 4 differing versions of what I should get.
Third – it was a bank holiday and the pharmacy was shut, so some of my medication had to come across town (the town was London, btw)
So by 5:30pm, it was becoming apparent that I was not going to get home, so we told the nurses I wanted to stay another night. My beloved didn’t find this all that good, but when the Staff Nurse came back in to tell us that all the changes were wrong and the medicine defined at the start of the day was right, I couldn’t help it and burst out laughing.
Day 12 – Saturday
I finally got discharged at 10am, with a bag full of medicine (seriously full!!) and went to Euston. The Virgin Mobility people took my beloved and I down to the train on a buggy, and provided a ramp so I didn’t have to climb up on to the train.
The trip back was oaky, and we were met by my parents, with a wheelchair, which made my life a lot easier.
What didn’t make it easier was my mother leaving my medication bag in the parking area, and thus subjecting me to a 45 minute panic that I had lost all my painkillers and warfarin. Luckily, one of the attendants found them and handed them in to the station office, so I was not deprived of my 6pm dose of painkillers (which I really needed by then, since I did not get them until 6:45!)
xxxxx
I can not say enough good things about my beloved. She stayed strong and supportive and cheerful whenever I was awake and talking to her, and not once did she let her feelings take precedence over my care.
She was and is truly wonderful, and I love her all the more.
xxxxx
And that is the story of my hospital visit.
Before I go, I just want to say one thing :-
Anyone who says the NHS is crap, is not worth the money we pay for it, or that private medicine is better than anything the NHS can provide should spend 12 days in hospital.
The treatment I got was exemplery, even on the Friday when I wasn’t discharged. The ITU staff were nothing but wonderful, and the ward staff were brilliant.
I can’t find a single thing to complain about, and I can not think of
any way it could have been better.
Support The NHS – don’t let the Tories privatise it or screw it up in some other way. It is our best resource and our best institution. We have to fight to preserve it or everyone – rich and poor – will suffer the consequences.