Tag Archives: Hospital

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back.

17 Replies

A couple of days ago I started to shiver violently. I managed to fight it off with paracetamol  and sleep and Wednesday was fine. At 4am this morning I woke, shivering. I pulled a blanket over me and went back to sleep. When I woke, an hour later, it was clear that I needed help and at 6.30 am I surprised one of the neighbours as she put her bin out and took the dog for a walk, waving from my trolley as I was, once again,  loaded into the back of an ambulance.

I had breakfast in hospital (yoghurt), had blood taken, was given antibiotics via a cannula and by 1.00 was sitting in the sun as my sister came to collect me. I am typing awkwardly as I have an infuser pump hanging round my neck and it keeps finding new ways of inconveniencing me.

Tomorrow I will go back for a newly loaded pump And the day after, and the day after . . . Five days, in fact, and on the 6th day I go to see a doctor for assessment. Meanwhile, I am also taking large doses of oral antibiotics too. They are determined to get rid on the infection this time.

In a minute, I will go yo bed and see how ell I can sleep with a pump, several yards of tubing and a cannula. I’ve slept with a catheter for 14 weeks, so I’m sure five days with an infuser pump will be OK. I’m going to hang it on the bed head and see how it goes.

Meanwhile, Number Two Son had racoons on his balcony> He lives several floors up in Toronto, but they currently have scaffolding up on the building and the raccoons were using this to explore the balconies, which were now in reach.

Catching Up – In Sickness and in Health

22 Replies

Bumble bee on bramble flowers – Sherwood Forest

First things first – Julia is still not well. A few of the dissolving stitches have now come out, but they should have done that weeks ago. The car continues to pull, though it is now dry. She has a bit of trouble breathing. However, we are hoping that the visit to the outpatient’s clinic early next week will give her some answers and a definite course of action.

Meanwhile, she had another visit to A&E on Sunday night (from 6pm to 6pm), but this time travelled in style as we were conveyed by ambulance.

This time, though, it wasn’t her who was ill, it was me.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Basically, as she pointed out, she married an idiot. And I can’t dispute that. I started with a bit of a fever on Friday and Saturday, fighting it off with Paracetamol and sleep. It seemed to work, but on Sunday it came back with a vengeance. Eventually, after being told to go to A&E by someone Julia rang on  a helpline, I refused and went to bed. When she woke me again, I was incoherent and couldn’t actually stand. We knew what it was, because  I’ve had it before. I’ve also been told off by the doctor before. You can’t fight off sepsis with cold cures.

This time it really did a job on me and though we caught it quickly, I should have caught it a lot quicker. If I had, I might not have had to spend four nights in hospital.

Wild flowers

I will tell you about it later. I’ve been at the computer for an hour and am now tired and need to go to sleep. Yes, I’m that weak. On Monday I couldn’t lift a puzzle magazine. On Tuesday  I couldn’t finish a puzzle. On Wednesday they started making more sense and I was getting quite good. By Thursday I was bored of puzzle mags but still lacked the concentration to read a book. I actually ordered groceries online using my phone, but could only manage to do about a third of it before breaking off for a nap.

After returning home I have chatted, dozed, watched TV, eaten cheese on toast and tried catching up on my correspondence. Now, defeated again, I am off to bed.

More stories tomorrow.

Pigs and flowers

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

6 Replies

 

Dog Rose

Tomorrow I must present myself at hospital at 8.30 and, as I could be there some time, I must take spare clothes, my medication, food and “something to do.” At one time, I’m sure they used to mention reading material, It is a sign of changing technology that we now have more to do than read or do paper-based puzzles, though I can’t help feeling that a dumbing down process has taken place. Last time I was in I was actually asked by one of the staff what I did for a living. They had watched me read for several hours and developed a theory that I was a professor.

Of course, I wasn’t such a slippered pantaloon in those days. Now, grey and lined, I am presumably lost amongst the rest of the faded grey retirees who populate the waiting areas of the Urology Department.

Foxgloves and bee

A usual, my head is full of travel arrangements. Do I use a taxi or take the car, where will I park? The process of removing the catheter will sting a bit and involve embarrassment a strange women do things around my nether regions, but that is of less concern. Once you have had one strange woman approach your genitalia with rubber gloves and a determined expression, you lose the capacity to worry about discomfort and embarrassment.

I’m going to have a go at doubling up – arrive early, get a blood test then go to Urology. That way I can cancel Thursday’s blood test and have the day to myself.

Tomorrow is Julia’s day off, and I will miss it, due to sitting in hospital. The list of necessities is quite worrying. How much food? How many clothes? What are they planning that will involve changing my clothes? How much will they charge me for parking? It probably won’t be much less than a taxi, but the car is more convenient. I can get in and out of my car quite easily but some of the small Japanese things they send from the taxi firm can be a bit tricky.

Ah well, bed now and no more point in worrying.

Nasturtiums. Or peppery salad leaves. It all depends on your point of view.

I’ll leave you with a bit of Shakespeare. Word for word it is probably more densely packed with quotes than any other passage in the English language. Even more than the band of brothers speech in Henry V. This one also contains the title I would use if I were starting a new blog – A Tale Told by an Idiot. Having said that, if I were to write an autobiography I’d use a quote from henry V as the basis of the title – remembered with Advantage. I may have to write a book or two just to use the ides I have for titles.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Goldfinch

Photos are from June 2017, which include photos from my last stay in hospital (I thought I’d give them a miss but just include cheerful ones. It amazes me how much we got around in 2017. Now we don’t go anywhere to take photographs. This must change.

Yesterday it Rained

12 Replies

Yes, I read a lot of low-brow books…

It was raining when I woke up yesterday, it stayed raining all day and I’m not sure when it finished. It was the sort of rain that fell without enthusiasm, resulting in a sulky teenager of a day. I didn’t enjoy it. In the afternoon I had a hospital appointment, again. It was quite short, which made it more annoying. It took me longer to travel than I spent with the anaesthetist, and I can see the hospital from my house. I actually waited longer for the appointment (which was twenty minutes late), than I spent in the consultation. And all because the hospital couldn’t be bothered to organise itself to have everything done on one day.

It’s typical NHS – the attitude that we have nothing better to do than travel to and from hospital on their whim.

To make it worse, they had horse racing on TV. It’s a subject I’m not sure about, Great stories, the Sport of Kings, heroism, endeavour and spectacle. Plus rich people playing, animal cruelty, gambling and crime. You can see why Dick Francis was able to become a best seller. My head is now crammed with information about soft going, high knee actions and bloodlines that I really don’t need.

More books

Julia just sent me some pictures of the trip to Niagara Falls with the boys. I’d like to be with the family, though I’m not unhappy on my own. I’m also not bothered about the falls. I’ve seem much nicer waterfalls in England and I didn’t need to risk my health by flying in a metal tube filled with germ-ridden strangers.

And now, I’m off to do things – pharmacy then lunch with my sister. That reminds me – I need to get vaccinated again. I really must remember as there is a time limit on it.

After that I need to do enough to make it look like I’ve been working on decluttering over the two weeks Julia has been away.

And finally . . .                                                                                                                      Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Marmalade Hoverfly

An Early Morning Phone Call and a Grumpy Reply

8 Replies
Hoverfly on Welsh Poppy

Hoverfly on Spanish Poppy

Monday morning.

8.36.

The telephone rings.

Any time before 9am and I immediately think it’s either an emergency or a call from a different time zone.

It turned out to be neither. It was the Urology Department. Could I go in on Monday 20th for my operation?

No, that won’t be possible.

At that point an icy one entered the conversation. Why would that be?

I explained, in the same sort of tone, that as far as I knew I didn’t have to justify myself to them.

They changed tack at that point and explained they needed the information for record keeping purposes. Probably so that when something goes wrong they can cover themselves. I have had experience of things going wrong, and recognise the signs.

Bee on Welsh Poppy

Bee on Spanish Poppy

The reason is simple. Julia won’t be back from Canada and, as the hospital always stresses, in a confrontational and aggressive manner, I won’t be allowed home without an escort in the taxi and someone at home. They agreed that this was the case.

Actually, I’m not sure they can stop you going, and I have always won my case when arguing about it before. Why should Julia take time off work just to escort me home.

I then apologised for being grumpy, but explained I’d tried to explain all this before and nobody had taken it on board. That’s always a problem with hospitals – they don’t listen.

She then reminded me that I had an appointment with the anaesthetist on Thursday and needed to keep it so we could proceed.

Poppy

I replied that I was fully aware of this and that it would have been far better, given my mobility problems, if I could have seen them last week when I was in for the rest of the assessment.

She said she didn’t work in that department.

And that’s where we left it.

It may all go smoothly, but I bet it doesn’t.

Looks like I may be off blogging for a few days w/c 27th May.

Poppy

Sorry about the uninformative captions on the last two photos. And yes, having written the title, I realise 8.36 isn’t really early, but it is for a phone call.

Narcissi

Schindler’s Lift

13 Replies

Spring in the Mencap Garden

It was my six monthly Rheumatology review this morning. It all went well. They are keeping me on 6 monthly reviews as my right forefinger (despite having mainly recovered) is still a little swollen and sore but apart from that, all is well. It would have been different if I’d gone last week, but today, I was fine. I will just have to be careful.

Using the lift in the Treatment Centre, I noticed it was made by a company called Schindler. hence the title.

The actual experience went very well. I drove down, anticipating there would be plenty of parking under the Treatment Centre at 8.30, and there was. I was booked in by 8.45, seen at 8.50 and was out and passing the shop by 9.15. I could actually have gone to work, but having arranged the day off (which is only a half day on Friday)  I decided to return home with sausage and egg McMuffins and surprise Julia (who is on holiday this week).

Spring in the Mencap Garden

Unfortunately, when we move, I may have some disruption with my prescription as I will have to be transferred between hospitals, not just doctors. Another part of the rich tapestry that is the National health Service. At lest it will stop me worrying about the practical aspects of the move.

I felt able to relax my dietary regime a little, as I appear to have lost weight again, according to the scales. Mt waistband feels comfortable, but not excessively slack (having been a little uncomfortable a few weeks ago) so I thought I as still doing OK, but wasn’t sure until the scales confirmed it.

Despite this, I am more determined than ever to drop more weight and not become complacent, as I have done in the past. We finished off the ginger nuts, agreed not to buy more biscuits, and had a very light lunch.

In time i will need to buy more trousers, which will be an act with mixed feelings, as I hate spending money on clothes before they are worn out. However, sometimes you have to do these things.

Spring in the Mencap Garden

At the moment my new belt is a matter of concern. In the old days I was once told that the reason I couldn’t get a decent leather belt was because they don’t make cows my size. This was a sobering thought but turns out to be untrue, as these days you can get big belts for the fuller figure. I needed a new one, and recently ordered one. It was longer than my old one, but they allow for this by giving a range of lengths in the description, so I merely punched a few extra holes in it and started to use it. Unfortunately, the surplus length is becoming annoying and I am going to cut it down. This is mildly annoying, as they should be more consistent. I ordered a belt, not a build your own belt kit. Even worse, having punched new holes and worn it I now notice that it has a label by the buckle and it is actually a size up from the one I ordered. That explains it.

Spring at last!

Snowdrop Photos and Complaints

11 Replies

Sorry, I’ve had an erratic few days and blogging seems to have suffered. My fingers are still a bit stiff, my Kindle is full, and I’m not well organised. There are many reasons for irregular blogging, and those are just a few of them.

I had an electronic communication from the hospital today. The replacement appointment for the one they failed to complete is in late April. I’m going to be writing again, as they seem to have ignored my other questions. It will be six months after my initial problem that I get seen. I’m not happy about that. I’m even less happy that they haven’t answered my queries. However, I now have some more details to work with and am going to write again.

The photos are from  atrip Julia and my sister made to Holme Pierrepont to look at snowdrops. I suppose this is the English equivalent of the Japanese looking a cherry blossom. I didn’t go because I’m anti-social, not able to walk well enough or afraid of germs. Or all three.  To be honest, after contracting whooping cough (and the associated other problems) at Christmas and spending a lot of time coughing, gasping and gurgling, I don’t want to put myself in the position of breathing in more germs. Walking round some woodland with a crowd of snowdrop watchers is just too many people for me.

Work again tomorrow, followed by a day off on Wednesday. I really could get used to being retired. Julia has always said that with my laid back approach to labour I would probably find it difficult to notice the difference between work and retirement. Wives can be quite cutting at times.

Trams and Transportation Trauma

10 Replies

Today I went to hospital to see my rheumatology specialist.They say that you can tell you are getting old when the policemen start looking younger. In my case it’s the consultants in hospital. The two I’ve had both look like they should still be at school. I was sorry when the previous one moved on, but they new one seems very good too. I like this new sort of consultant.

The rest of the day wasn’t quite so good, as was eleven minutes late for my appointment, which meant I had to wait to be seen. Really, I was only four minutes late, because I then had to spend seven minutes waiting as the receptionists dealt with patients who both seemed to have long, complicated requirements. I hate being late, but I particularly hate waiting in a queue and becoming even later.

Trees in a car park

I all started with my decision to use the tram to go to hospital.

We only have two tram lines in Nottingham, so it’s quite a simple system. You go to the tram stop, buy a ticket from the machine and get on he tram. Last time I used one Julia came with me and we had an interesting time on cramped seats looking at the armpit of a Dutch woman. It reminded me why cars, though killing the planet, are still more popular than public transport.

With so little to go wrong I was rather put out when Julia mentioned she wouldn’t be able to come with me this time. As if I am a small child who can’t be trusted to travel alone on a very simple system.

I think these are near Slaidburn

As it turns out, I actually had trouble before I even saw a tram. The ticket machine has a key pad, a couple of places to swipe cards and a screen. I couldn’t get any response. I couldn’t use the coin slot as I’d emptied my pockets of change as I knew it would take a card. It seems that the brightly lit screen with the advert is key to all this. If you tap it, it becomes some sort of space age console for buying tickets. How things have changed over the years. This sort of technology only used to be available on TV sci-fi programmes.

One of the advantages of having sticks, white hair and a confused expression is that complete strangers stop and ask if you need help. There is a bright spot in every event.

So, back to the simple system. I managed to miss the first tram whilst messing about with tickets. It was about ten minutes until the next one. I waited. A tram arrived, on time and accompanied by a flashing message on the platform display, so I boarded. Seconds later started, and a recorded announcement revealed that I was on the wrong one. What are the chances of that? I’m still not sure how it happened.

Fortunately, despite this, and the lack of maps in the carriages, I was able to work things out and get off several stops later where I then waited again and boarded the right tram. I tried ringing to tell them I would be late but couldn’t get through.

Pretty sure this is South Wingfield, where Mary Queen of Scots as an unwilling guest

Eventually, I was delivered to the tram stop at the hospital, where a walkway gave me access to the Treatment Centre. It’s quite an impressive piece of construction. Sadly, though I come from a nation that features such explorers as Cabot, Cook and Captain Scott, it seems that my ability to undertake long journeys into the unknown does not compare to theirs.

The trip back from hospital, being more crowded, and featuring various assaults on my olefactory system by a liberally applied combination of cosmetics, was an eye-watering exercise in why I want to live in a desert, and further highlighted my lack of fortitude compared to my forbears.

The pictures are thrown in at random. I haven’t been taking many recently. The captions show my lack of organisation in my early days when I didn’t caption every photo.

Day 186

10 Replies

I’v just been listening to poetry on YouTube. It’s a lazy way to ingest poetry, but it allows me to type at the same time. This is probably  not necessary as there isn’t much I’m going to do with the time I save. If I were going to write a novel with all the time I save by multi-tasking it would be OK. As I’m likely to watch TV and drink tea with the time I save, it is less important.

Chest X-Ray tomorrow. The new arthritis medication they are putting me on requires a chest X-Ray before I am given the stuff. Plus I will have to arrange to be shown how to do it. I’m not sure how difficult it can be, but the medical profession does like to look mysterious. It comes in ready ready prepared syringes and I have to stick it in my legs. Last time I had to inject myself it was anti-coagulants and they had to go in my abdomen. I don’t really feel I need more training. Self-perforation is much the same however you do it.

When you consider it is a very popular pastime with drug addicts, who don’t have the benefit of specially prepared syringes or training by professionals, how hard can it be?

I have probably never told you about the public toilets in Mansfield, a town about 20 miles from here. They have blue lights in the toilets. I mentioned this to someone as I thought it was strange. They told me that it prevents drug-addicts shooting up, because they can’t find their veins under the blue light. However, someone else told me that it’s still possible if you mark your veins with felt tip pen whilst you are standing outside in daylight.

Not really looking forward to the trip to hospital. I don’t see why it couldn’t just have been done while I was there, like my last lot of arthritis X-Rays , but it seems the system has been changed. This will be the “new and improved version” I suppose, involving a second trip to hospital and an appointment’s system and letters. It’s hardly what you’d call streamlined.

 

 

Phlebotomy Friday. Again.

7 Replies

I woke several times during the night and at 5.48 decided it wasn’t worth going back to bed as the alarm was set for 6.30. This allowed me to have an unhurried breakfast, a reflective cup of tea and a few minutes answering comments. What it didn’t allow, was a parking space when I went for my blood test.

Parking has been getting tighter down there, and this wasn’t a total surprise, though it in’t normally full by 7am. It is supposedly a car park for visitors only, but I’m not sure this is true. When they first made it free they had a staff member on the entrance checking that you were a visitor. Since that check has been abandoned it has been steadily more difficult to find parking. The cynic in me, seeing a variety of clues inside the cars, and seeing drivers dressed in NHS uniform, tends to think the staff are ignoring the notices and taking the spaces meant for visitors.

The other part of me, the part that wants to believe they are all heroes and angels, doesn’t want to believe it. “Say it aint’ so, Joe!” my inner, innocent, self cries out.  However, when I think back to the times I have been in hospital, including the time I was left glued to the bed by dried blood despite a request for help, I do start to wonder. If they are capable of leaving me stuck to my bedding, they are certainly capable of stealing my parking space.

I will, however, cut them some slack, because they generally do a good job and it’s a lovely day. The sun is shining, there was minimal ice on my screen this morning and the Robins were singing in the hospital garden.

The blood test, performed with the panache odf a world class fencer, took mere seconds. Touché, you could almost hear her cry.

And now, having got home in time to write a post, I will go to work.