Thursday, 7 January 2010

It's the morphine talking

AKA
if I EVER EVER complain about needing peace and quiet EVER again.....shoot me.

Seriously go get a gun pull the trigger, I will sign a organ donor card and you can get it over and done with because quite honestly I have had enough navel gazing to last me a lie time.

So there I was gently bronzed and relatively rested boarding flight 'how old is that plane?' home. I tell you so much can be achieved with a roll of gaffer tape these days, but it does the job. The air quality was less satisfactory however, 2 liters of air having been recycled since 2008. Still slap on a bit of Estee Lauder and I should survive no?
I felt SO ill, really poorly, I assumed it was motion sickness but I just got worse and worse, by the time we landed I was shivering with an astronomically high temperature. Emin called for help and in 20 mins I was in an ambulance bound for Harlow A&E. 8 hours on a trolley later I was rolled into a bed high on morphine having been used as an experimental pin cushion with little left in my stomach but the lining.

The next day I was diagnosed with Cellulitis, which unluckily for me had spread to the lymph nodes in my groin.
So I am stuck high on morphine miles from home no tele, no books, no music, no laptop nothing ,for 6 WHOLE DAYS I begged and pleaded for my release and were it not for some incredible dogged persuasion from the nurses I would be there for another 4 days. But I am now an out patient at my local hospital and will visit daily for 4 days instead.
Ergo hot bath and finally a good nights sleep in my own bed.
I had over the 6 days
  • 3 saline drips
  • 3 lots of morphine
  • 2 lots of antibiotics 4 times a day IV
  • 2 lots of blood thinner injected into my jelly belly
  • more paracetamol than I can count
  • swabs for MRSA
  • blood tests
  • blood sugar tests
  • oh and laxatives
I could not sleep at all, not that deep comforting sleep you get at home for 3 days I just seemed to hallucinate, the rest were sporadic naps
I got Emin to leave me some money and by day 4 I could just hobble down to the shop, with no other form of entertainment I was reduced to a paper, a magazine and one of those awful puzzle mag's you see at airports with crosswords and Suduko which It could be said saved my sanity!

My mother came down and played havoc with Emin's sanity. They ended up having their usual full and frank exchange of opinions before I persuaded mum to return home.
I kept getting told NOT to cross my legs and DRINK lots of water. The former is impossible the later even more so. Emin thinks I am the worst patient ever, I reminded him I was in PAIN
I learnt that the first sign of illness in me is a sudden desire NOT to drink alcohol, I went of it 4 days before the end of the holiday. Meme to self 'read the signs'

On the day of my prospective release it snows five inches the care plan put in place falls apart because of my local surgery THANK YOU I now hate them ALL, a bunch of overpaid WANKERS who are too pathetic to administer a drug intravenously, so now I am an out patient and have to schlepp over to the nearest hospital once a day for the next 4 days.
I now know this much....
The nurses were and will for ever be Saints to be one you need the following attributes;

  • To know instantly where the doctor has hidden his to do list, invariably in his back pocket
  • To have the nose of a gun dog in order to find misplaced patient files and notes by the aforementioned doctor.
  • Deal with a constant source of disorientated staff sent up from other wards to help out.
  • Spend 90% of your time on the phone negotiating patient release with district nurses, social services, Physiotherapists, chasing the pharmacy for drugs. as well as answering the phone to recalcitrant relatives
The other 10% is divided between pushing copious drugs and trying to avoid lengthy incoherent ramblings from the lonely old lady at the end of the ward.

So now you know why tumbleweed rolls around this blog. I am going to read all of yours and catch up before regaling you with events from Cyprus, suffice it to say it was a success and I have 100's of photos to whittle, down keeping me busy next week. catch you later!



7 comments:

materfamilias said...

Oh, you poor thing! That sounds like a very, very horrid several weeks and the worst of it is you were ill on your own time and will soon be heading back to teach, right? I'm so sorry!
My sister had a scary bout of cellulitis a few years ago (initiated, I think, by a spider bite), and although hers was bad, treatment was made much easier by the hospital being a ten-minute drive from her home. Your case sounds like a compounding of all the things that could go wrong.

Looking Fab in your forties said...

Oh God, sounds awful. Get well wishes to you xx

Cheryl said...

I am so glad you are okay and out of the hospital! That sounds like a horrible ordeal. On the bright side it must make being home feel all the sweeter. Get well soon!

La Belette Rouge said...

OMG!!!!!!How awful. I am so sorry. I have never heard of cellulitis before. It sounds HORRIBLE. I hope you get well very soon. And, I hope Emin's nursing skills improve. ;-)

Liberty London Girl said...

Oh goodness. GET WELL SOON. I have had many, many operations and get myself discharged tout suite, and then it falls apart at the doctors too. In London I can get a District Nurse (saints) for dressings, but put a paw beyond the M25 and it's all teeth sucking and get yrself to a dressing station/A&E. Quite tricky when you can't sit down. F77kers. LLGxx

auntiegwen said...

God, how awful for you. Hope you are on the mend now. As for the IV admin, not sure why your local surgery doesn't have someone who's able to do that????

So glad you appreciated your nurses (I spent 15 years of my life being one)

Get well soon xxx

Rollergirl said...

Oh poor you :( Just catching up. Hospital is the worst thing ever and makes you so grateful for all the things you take for granted. Hope you are lots better now!