Being woken at 2am for a blood pressure check is not my idea of fun but apparently it was necessary. It came back as 106/64 - I was in good shape but my blood oxygen was 93% so I lost the points gained for the low blood pressure.
I was awake and ready for the next test at 6am and my first round of IV. I was told the doctor was making his rounds and he would call in soon. He appeared almost straight away and through my bleary haze I gathered that he had decided on a plan of action but wanted his senior (colleague? consultant? registrar?) to review it. Meanwhile I was on instructions of nil by mouth as I was expected to head out for surgery later that morning.
The senior ? arrived and explained that he wanted to avoid surgery and planned to continue with the IV and see how I progressed ... OVER THE WEEKEND!!! I must have looked like a goldfish at that point as he repeated himself a couple of times and for good measure I asked him to repeat it again. I was going nowhere and my whole week was in tatters, but at least I could order breakfast. It seems the NHS don't do "Full English" so I was left with cornflakes with full fat milk (oh think of the arteries!), toast and a strong cup of coffee - yum!
Bed 5 went home and was replaced with a little bald man who spent the majority of his visit smiling. He wasn't bothered about being in hospital as it gave him the chance to listen to his music. We also had to listen to it as well (all easy listening) as his little digital radio bleated out classics (from the 70s mainly) and although it wasn't to my tastes, it made the day pass quickly until my wife turned up with my laptop - yay!
Bed 6 was moved to another ward and replaced with a very chatty man. He was suffering from an infection which made it difficult to pass water. He had been due to go on holiday in Wales for a week (despite the weather) but had been having to make frequent trips to the toilet. Suddenly they stopped and he hadn't been able to pass water for over 24 hours - ouch!
After a catheter was fitted he made good progress but the doctors were considering the same procedure my son and nephew had when they were only 5 - the big C. Mr chatty seemed relieved (no pun intended) but was nervous. He disappeared to another ward shortly afterwards. It was a shame as we had quite a few chats about football and rugby and he was very interested in refereeing (we talked about Stuart Atwell's dismissal of Gary Cahill at length!!!) as well as the two Manchester clubs being put out of the Champion's League at the Group Stage. I had watched Manchester City's game against Bayern Munich through the marvels of SKY GO! on my iPhone!
M arrived to fill chaty man's bed and arrived looking sullen but that was because he had a massive abscess in his mouth. It had already been treated with antibiotics by the hospital who referred him to his dentist, but it was so bad he couldn't open his mouth to allow a proper inspection. By this time the abscess had gotten so bad, he couldn't even drink his pint of cider on a night out, so he came back to hospital and was admitted. M was dressed as a stereotypical Goth but with one exception - he was wearing a full blown Sith robe from Star Wars!!! We had a few good conversations about Star Wars before he disappeared on day three but that's still to come.
Bed 8 had a visitor on day two who was his wife. From listening to her talking to the nurses it seemed that her husband had taken early retirement in his early 50s and had become a house husband. Like many men (myself included), he became a little absent minded when left with a list of tasks to be completed before she came home. Some get done, some get left and some get forgotten. It seems that this poor man had begun forgetting more and more until he was diagnosed in her words with "dementia" and she had been obliged to place him in care. It was also evident that he wasn't that old after all but his condition had deteriorated rapidly. It was absolutely heart breaking. he was moved out to another ward and replaced with Mr Angry.
Mr Angry had collapsed at work. He was receiving ongoing treatment for a kidney stone and had been allowed to keep his own supplies of morphine at home to treat his pain (seemed a little strange to me considering the addictive qualities of morphine). He had also had a heart attack 3 years before and was on a long list of drugs in an attempt to avoid a re occurrence but watching and listening to him, he needed to slow down a little.
He was angry because he was coming up for a contract renewal and thought that if he was operated upon he was looking at an 8 week recuperation period which would mean losing the contract. He made a number of calls to get an up to date position on the negotiations and made some other calls to his family. Now I don't eavesdrop as a rule but this man was so angry he sounded like an advert for an old Dom Joly TV programme (HELLO ... YES, I'M IN HOSPITAL ... WHAT? NO IT'S RUBBISH...), but the funny thing was that when he phoned his wife and office he was a shouty Yorkshireman and when he phoned his son and father he became a more softly spoken but still shouty Scotsman. It made me laugh out loud on a couple of occasions!
In the end he was persuaded to agree to surgery but it was a much different procedure and was likely to have a very short recovery period, so he was shipped out and replaced by a very quiet man, Mr MA. Mr MA had been involved in a disturbance, but unlike the man he shared his name with (one of the greatest heavyweight boxers in history), Mr MA had come off worse, especially when his assailant (love that word) had struck him on the arm with a glass bottle which shattered leaving Mr MA with a badly lacerated arm. It caused him a lot of pain and he spent most of his time with us grimacing while sitting in a chair (too painful to lie down). Mr MA disappeared on Day three after his parents visited with fresh clothes (not blood stained) and he was moved out for surgery.
After my wife and son visited (he bought me a "Get Well Soon" balloon in the hospital shop) and told me all about his Nativity play, I settled in for an evening of writing. I had 25 practical exam papers to complete for the candidates for the course. I had kept all my observation notes and their answers to the Penal offences Test in my laptop bag and spent the next 4 hours writing up their names and marks.
Now I had to figure out how to get them back to the course. I managed to get a strong enough connection through my iPhone to be able to send the other course material to my replacement as course leader, but still had the issue of transferring the papers. Then I remembered JDB, my RA Secretary worked in this very hospital. As I fell asleep around 2am, I hatched a plan...
Continue reading...
I was awake and ready for the next test at 6am and my first round of IV. I was told the doctor was making his rounds and he would call in soon. He appeared almost straight away and through my bleary haze I gathered that he had decided on a plan of action but wanted his senior (colleague? consultant? registrar?) to review it. Meanwhile I was on instructions of nil by mouth as I was expected to head out for surgery later that morning.
The senior ? arrived and explained that he wanted to avoid surgery and planned to continue with the IV and see how I progressed ... OVER THE WEEKEND!!! I must have looked like a goldfish at that point as he repeated himself a couple of times and for good measure I asked him to repeat it again. I was going nowhere and my whole week was in tatters, but at least I could order breakfast. It seems the NHS don't do "Full English" so I was left with cornflakes with full fat milk (oh think of the arteries!), toast and a strong cup of coffee - yum!
Bed 5 went home and was replaced with a little bald man who spent the majority of his visit smiling. He wasn't bothered about being in hospital as it gave him the chance to listen to his music. We also had to listen to it as well (all easy listening) as his little digital radio bleated out classics (from the 70s mainly) and although it wasn't to my tastes, it made the day pass quickly until my wife turned up with my laptop - yay!
Bed 6 was moved to another ward and replaced with a very chatty man. He was suffering from an infection which made it difficult to pass water. He had been due to go on holiday in Wales for a week (despite the weather) but had been having to make frequent trips to the toilet. Suddenly they stopped and he hadn't been able to pass water for over 24 hours - ouch!
After a catheter was fitted he made good progress but the doctors were considering the same procedure my son and nephew had when they were only 5 - the big C. Mr chatty seemed relieved (no pun intended) but was nervous. He disappeared to another ward shortly afterwards. It was a shame as we had quite a few chats about football and rugby and he was very interested in refereeing (we talked about Stuart Atwell's dismissal of Gary Cahill at length!!!) as well as the two Manchester clubs being put out of the Champion's League at the Group Stage. I had watched Manchester City's game against Bayern Munich through the marvels of SKY GO! on my iPhone!
M arrived to fill chaty man's bed and arrived looking sullen but that was because he had a massive abscess in his mouth. It had already been treated with antibiotics by the hospital who referred him to his dentist, but it was so bad he couldn't open his mouth to allow a proper inspection. By this time the abscess had gotten so bad, he couldn't even drink his pint of cider on a night out, so he came back to hospital and was admitted. M was dressed as a stereotypical Goth but with one exception - he was wearing a full blown Sith robe from Star Wars!!! We had a few good conversations about Star Wars before he disappeared on day three but that's still to come.
Bed 8 had a visitor on day two who was his wife. From listening to her talking to the nurses it seemed that her husband had taken early retirement in his early 50s and had become a house husband. Like many men (myself included), he became a little absent minded when left with a list of tasks to be completed before she came home. Some get done, some get left and some get forgotten. It seems that this poor man had begun forgetting more and more until he was diagnosed in her words with "dementia" and she had been obliged to place him in care. It was also evident that he wasn't that old after all but his condition had deteriorated rapidly. It was absolutely heart breaking. he was moved out to another ward and replaced with Mr Angry.
Mr Angry had collapsed at work. He was receiving ongoing treatment for a kidney stone and had been allowed to keep his own supplies of morphine at home to treat his pain (seemed a little strange to me considering the addictive qualities of morphine). He had also had a heart attack 3 years before and was on a long list of drugs in an attempt to avoid a re occurrence but watching and listening to him, he needed to slow down a little.
He was angry because he was coming up for a contract renewal and thought that if he was operated upon he was looking at an 8 week recuperation period which would mean losing the contract. He made a number of calls to get an up to date position on the negotiations and made some other calls to his family. Now I don't eavesdrop as a rule but this man was so angry he sounded like an advert for an old Dom Joly TV programme (HELLO ... YES, I'M IN HOSPITAL ... WHAT? NO IT'S RUBBISH...), but the funny thing was that when he phoned his wife and office he was a shouty Yorkshireman and when he phoned his son and father he became a more softly spoken but still shouty Scotsman. It made me laugh out loud on a couple of occasions!
In the end he was persuaded to agree to surgery but it was a much different procedure and was likely to have a very short recovery period, so he was shipped out and replaced by a very quiet man, Mr MA. Mr MA had been involved in a disturbance, but unlike the man he shared his name with (one of the greatest heavyweight boxers in history), Mr MA had come off worse, especially when his assailant (love that word) had struck him on the arm with a glass bottle which shattered leaving Mr MA with a badly lacerated arm. It caused him a lot of pain and he spent most of his time with us grimacing while sitting in a chair (too painful to lie down). Mr MA disappeared on Day three after his parents visited with fresh clothes (not blood stained) and he was moved out for surgery.
After my wife and son visited (he bought me a "Get Well Soon" balloon in the hospital shop) and told me all about his Nativity play, I settled in for an evening of writing. I had 25 practical exam papers to complete for the candidates for the course. I had kept all my observation notes and their answers to the Penal offences Test in my laptop bag and spent the next 4 hours writing up their names and marks.
Now I had to figure out how to get them back to the course. I managed to get a strong enough connection through my iPhone to be able to send the other course material to my replacement as course leader, but still had the issue of transferring the papers. Then I remembered JDB, my RA Secretary worked in this very hospital. As I fell asleep around 2am, I hatched a plan...
Continue reading...
