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Category: Hospital Retrospective

Retrospective, my recent hospital incarceration…

Since I will be adding more content soon, so as not to lose this retrospective, herein lies all the historical posts of that not so good time in my life. So, in recommended order of reading:

Intro: https://mhalaise.me/march-2024-my-hospital-retrospective-intro/

Day 8: https://mhalaise.me/18th-march-2024-my-hospital-retrospective-day-8/

Day 9: https://mhalaise.me/19th-march-2024-my-hospital-retrospective-day-9/

Day 10: https://mhalaise.me/20th-march-2024-my-hospital-retrospective-day-10/

Day 11:https://mhalaise.me/21st-march-2024-my-hospital-retrospective-day-11/

Extro: https://mhalaise.me/22nd-march-2024-my-hospital-retrospective-day-12-extro-freedom/

22nd March 2024, my hospital retrospective (Day 12, extro, freedom)

I never got to write this while I was in hospital and, so, was never sent to family and friends. I write this now just to provide closure for the series…

Friday…

So, this day started like every other, wake up at 6, breakfast at 7, enter my lunch and tea choices for the day. For lunch, since it was Friday, “fish and chip Friday” as the nurses were calling it, I ordered, you guessed it, fish and chips for lunch. And my usual sandwich and soup for tea. Settled down for another day of boredom, watching TV, having bloods taken, finger pricked, blood pressure, oxygen and temperature. All were good.

My fellow “inmates” were quiet, even “D” for now. Until he again got impatient with waiting for breakfast, toilet, wash, whatever his current wish was.

Lunch arrived. What’s this? A sandwich? Um… So it turns out there was a problem with the hospital’s kitchen. Lunch would now be at tea time, tea would be at lunchtime but without the soup. Okay then…

After “lunch”, one of the nurses announced “you’re going home today”. I was like, wait, what? I mean, I was ready, but was my home? I didn’t have my keys to get in. Panicked call to my sister, she (and my younger niece) rushed down to the hospital, and, well, after my sister’s panicked chat with the nurses, things were sorted and I was, indeed, going to be going home.

My sister and niece left, late afternoon to get me some bits and bobs for my fridge and eating as, obviously, being incarcerated in hospital for so long, I had no fresh milk, bread, etc. And my sister awaited at my home for my return.

I waited, and at some time, a bit later in the afternoon, I was evicted from my bedspace. I had to wait incongruously in the corridor, sitting, watching the world go by. “Tea” arrived. Well, at least I got my fish and chips. Which, by the way, may seem unhealthy, but it was a piece of oven cooked fish with oven cooked chips, 6 of them.

After “tea”, I was told I now go Discharge and they would call me a taxi. Now, given my current state of ability to walk, etc., I sort of expected to be “wheeled” to Discharge. RBH is a huge hospital, with very long corridors and, even visitors who are fit and well say it’s a long walk. They weren’t kidding. I was made to walk to Discharge, escorted by a nurse. I had to stop several times en-route to get my breath back. Towards the end, I thought, I’m going to end in Coronary rather than Discharge. You see, despite my own improvements and determination, I still wasn’t 100%. Before now, walking to the loo and back made me need to sit and rest. This walk nearly bloody killed me (not literally you understand). Discharge were aghast they made me walk, sat me in a chair and let me rest while they ordered a taxi.

Eventually, the taxi arrived, I hopped into a wheelchair and was wheeled to my awaiting ride. My first taste of fresh air in goodness knows how long.

The rest, as they say, is history. Today, I feel a lot better than I have done in a long time. Despite their foibles, RBH fixed me up good! And since my release and now, I think I’m a new man, looking forward to a brighter future, being out and about, and, well, maybe something else…

21st March 2024, my hospital retrospective (Day 11)

Thursday…

Well, last night started off pretty quiet. I was able to snatch an hour or so sleep until the “bumetanide shuffle” kicked in at 01:30. The first of a few trips. Apart from that, things are still quiet. Worryingly so. Have the “noisy ones” passed on during the night? The usual calls of “help”, “nurse”, “bloody hell” are missing from “D”, and other unmentionable noises/sights are missing from “B”. Are they both still alive?

At 04:00, I was jolted awake by sudden very loud music, ffs. “D”, very much still alive, had decided to listen to his bedside radio. He was wearing h/phones but they had gotten unplugged somehow, so he was listening, at high volume, through those disconnected h/phones. Never seen nurses run in so fast to cut the noise. My heart was racing. That is no way to be woken up. Of course, that woke up the rest of the monkey cage and peace was at an end.

I don’t know if all this is a good sign or that I’m due a crash any time soon. But, recently, after a bad night’s sleep, I would struggle awfully through the next day. But now, this is, what? my 4th disturbed night on the trot? I don’t feel too bad. Apart from the obvious “tired eyes”, and yawning enough to suck all the air out of the building, I’m feeling pretty OK in general.

Physically, my ribs are giving me a lot of pain today. Not sure if that’s still where I strained them last Sunday lying/crawling across my flat, or whether something new has occurred. Perhaps, with my constant desire to be up and about, the getting up and down from my chair has introduced additional pullage there. All I know is that they hurt, and sometimes, I really feel it when I breathe in…

Jebus, “D” is on one today. Constantly ringing his buzzer, constantly calling for the “nurse”, demanding attention of anyone vaguely in a uniform and complaining at me at his lack of instant service! He obviously has issues, of the mental kind, but this is getting a bit much. I try to ignore but having my own name shouted across the ward is doing my head in. He shouts my name, and when he finally has my attention (yes, i have very studiously ignored him), he mouths something at me (I can’t lip read him, have no clue what he’s mouthing) and gesticulates with his arms, as if I can do something to hurry along his help. It exhausts me. I’m supposed to be recuperating too! Obviously he’s driving the nurses mad, and if they are already busy with someone else, he gets ignored, but that just flames the fires, so to speak… I don’t think I could ever work in the care of others, these nurses are something special. And don’t get me wrong, I do feel sorry for “D” too, but there’s only so much I can bear…

Soon be lunch time, I think I ordered lasagne, really can’t remember. At least I get lunch today, lol! Had yesterday’s canula removed (it was put in in case endoscopy required it, they didn’t). There’s a bit of a bleed but lots of pressure has controlled it. I’m going to need to be careful about accidental cuts in the future, could get very messy…

Yeah, it was lasagne. Not bad, was tasty and filled a hole. But it’s late afternoon now and I’m already feeling hungry. Fair to say my appetite is back now. Had a visit for a couple hours, which was nice. Good to see other people apart from staff and patients. I wouldn’t say I’m lonely, being a loner, I don’t get lonely, but it’s good to get visitors so fair to say my spirits are lifted somewhat (not that they were down but you know what I mean?).

Figured how to pair my h/phones with my phone so I can listen to music now. Bit of Genesis (Abacab), bit of Nightwish (Imaginaerum) and now Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds. I have an eclectic taste, sue me! Apart from my visitors, and my music, it’s been a quiet afternoon. Even “D” has settled for now. And no doctors visits, no vampires, so all good (I hope).

Not much of the day left for any excitement, so just a brief update on me myself. Still mobile, strength still coming back slowly, no ill affects from the endo yesterday (none of the risks came true, well, so far, so hope that’s behind me). And I have settled on a specific bathroom/loo. It may seem daft but, hear me out here. There is one close to my bedspace, a quick hop away so to speak, but is used by everyone nearby, and isn’t always hygienic (there are some “animals” here – am I sure I’m in a hospital and not a zoo?). There’s one further down the “road”, less frequented, cleaner and, importantly, takes significantly more steps to reach so I think it is better for me, if only to get me moving – yes, even at stupid o’clock in the morning 

So, now, really, I’m just playing the waiting game now for release back into the wild! Some adjustments need to be made to my living space before I can go home, to save me the ignominy of getting stuck again should such an occasion arise (I’m definitely going to work on ensuring it doesn’t).

Hmm, I was a bit hasty. Some “excitement” has just occured. Not sure what was going on but there was a scuffle with “H” and it took 3 blokes to restrain him. He’s been carted off will all his stuff. Not sure if that’s permanent (looks like it is, on further reflection – hopefully he’s gone somewhere where he can be properly looked after now, poor chap). but things didn’t look good. “H”, if you remember, is the chap I’ve tried not to engage with too much. Well, part of me hopes he’s OK, part of me hopes that’s the back of him. What a tricky situation. He’s been getting deeper into a funk these last days and there have been confrontations with his MH carers. But, you know, mental health and all that. I’m a bit shocked tbh, never witnessed anything like that. Whew…

So, with “H” gone, and, it appears “B” moved elsewhere, we have 2 empty beds atm. Wonder how long for, and what sort of folk will occupy them next…

20th March 2024, my hospital retrospective (Day 10)

Wednesday, I do believe…

…but one day merges into another now. I have been here 10 days now. Today is probably the worst, most torturous day of my incarceration so far (even exceeding when I was actually feeling quite ill).

So, a third night of little to no sleep. Performing the “bumetinide shuffle” every hour or so, interspersed by being kept awake by the antics of fellow inmates. I won’t go into details on those antics, some of those details are too yucky to even think about now, let alone write down for posterity. Let’s just say there’s certain sights and sounds I’d really rather blot out.

So, this morning, I was due an endoscopy. Around 9:30 I believe. Nil-by-mouth until that is done. No problem, I can miss my early morning cuppa and my cornflakes. Still have lunch to look forward too…

However, it is now 13:30, half my meds I can’t take because can’t take on empty stomach or because contain too many fluids which I’m not allowed. Lunch has come and gone, I’ve missed out, had to witness everyone around me enjoying theirs, because I’m STILL awaiting that appointment. Nobody can say if/when it will happen. I’ve just got my diet back on an even keel and now this. I am hungry, very thirsty, and still not allowed anything. Basic human rights? You can forget those. There’s no chance of having anything decent to eat after this is over as there is only one main meal a day and I’ve missed it – they can’t even keep mine aside and warm it up for me “later”. I am done. That all said, I think I’ve lost my appetite anyway. Needed a pee (the “bumetinide shuffle” is still working overtime) and the two loos I can use are in an awful mess – worse than public ones – what has happened to basic hospital cleanliness? And why do people, patients, think they can just leave that for others to find??? My stomach isn’t cut out for that and now I can’t even take care of my own basic needs without unwanted discoveries. Yuck! Disgusting! 🙁

But it’s OK, you know. RBH being the centre of excellence it is, it will soon be catering for even more dregs of human society with even less staff as it becomes the central hub for healthcare in east Dorset! Don’t forget to bring your own marigolds, disinfectant and bio-hazard suits if you’re ever ill and incarcerated here!

But, I feel I must jump to the staff’s defence here. They are all wonderful, trying to do their utmost best in the direst of circumstances which are only going to become much worse. I can’t have a word said against them, they are all angels, underappreciated by those they try to attend to, especially underappreciated by those who employ them/pay them their pittances. And, yet, somehow, from conversations I’ve overheard, they still love their work. Every credit!

Still waiting…

Well, I am back from my endoscopy. Bit of a sore throat now but, apparently, I did very well, especially so as I had no sedation. The good news is no issues were found so that’s a major relief. For timeline, I went down for it at 14:10 (and found out, despite assurances that I was being done early doors, they don’t do inpatients in the morning, always in the afternoon. If I’d known, I could/would have adjusted my expectations. Ah well, ’tis done now). Went for the procedure itself at 15:30 (bit of a queue). Done and dusted by 16:00 and finally back to my ward for copious amounts of tea and biscuits at 16:45 (had to wait a recovery period (during which I was visited by a pair of mallard ducks – the endoscopy unit backs on to a small lake and they had the doors open) and then wait to be collected). The procedure itself was a little uncomfortable but I’m glad I had no sedative else I’d still be down there recovering (for an hour or so with regular obs). Think the doctor and nurses were suitably impressed with my, ahem, bravery. Truth be told, the sedative carries, for me, extra risk, so we mutually agreed to attempt without. Attempted and succeeded. Yay!

Heh, sorry, another down and up day. Got back from endoscopy, busting for a you know what and, guess what, the loos are still in a mess. So quick relief followed by big disinfectant for me (yuck!) and now I can enjoy my tea and biscuits. Let’s hope I’ve not picked up anything nasty.

Phew, I am full up. The lovely nurses here on my ward, aware I had had no food since yesterday evening have fed me copious amounts of food on top of what I ordered myself – and ordered me to eat it! Soup I didn’t order, enough tuna to feed a cattery to put on my jacket potato, a strawberry jam to add to my rice pudding, and the aforementioned biscuits and mugs of tea. I need a lie down now to let my poor stomach recover from the assaults (the endoscopy and the food) it has recieved this afternoon/evening! Treating the staff with kindness and respect certainly pays dividends 🙂

I don’t think there will be any more news as such to share but if there is, you’ll getting it tomorrow. This is your inside reporter, reporting from poor broken NHS, signing off for today.

19th March 2024, my hospital retrospective (Day 9)

Tuesday, I think…

So, another sleep deprived night. Diuretics right before sleep time mostly put paid to that. Flippin’ fast acting too. First “emergency” was almost exactly 30 minutes after the damn tablets were swallowed. The night was interrupted by a further 5 or so calls. And what with my fellow inmates demanding constant attention, it was not a restful night.

As usual, the day started at 6. Breakfast at 7, ablutions shortly after breakfast was done. I was allowed to go to the bathroom rather than an “at bedside” wash up. Might not seem much to you, but it was a victory for me. Almost a disaster though. They thoughtfully provided a chair to sit on in case I needed it (I did, my balance is still a tad iffy). But it was low, and I almost didn’t have the strength to rise from it (especially as it had no arms to press on and lift my self up). But I found I could move the chair slightly and reach a “grab” rail. Phew! Saved the embarrassing call for help…

The “fight” for a support frame continued and I had to wait my turn, then, for trips to the loo (darned diuretics still working overtime). During a particularly chaotic period, with much of the nursing staff off attending the apparently much more needy, I thought I’m going to try a trip unaided. I stood up, waited a short while to see how I was (fairly steady) and popped out to the little boys’ room without the bloody frame. Freedom! I confessed my sins afterwards and the nurses seem happy enough so I’m going to continue that way now. No more crossed legs or “knotting” it while I wait for support. I have a lot of my independence back, woohoo! Tonight should be easier.

All that said, just been dragged away by a member of the therapy team. I mentioned my confession to her and she asked if I would go for an unaided walk with her. So I did. She carried the frame with us “just in case”, but that case never arose I’m proud to say. We walked to the exit of the ward, brief pause to get my breath back, and then walked back again. Most steps I’ve done in a while. I’m happy and I feel my legs protesting a little at the, um, workout!

Lunch today was chicken and ham pie. The lunches here aren’t too bad, to be fair. I’ve had worse restaurant food. My only beef (heh, with chicken and ham), is, for some reason, it doesn’t matter what vegetables I order, I always end up with a pile of green beans. There are 2 vegetables I actively avoid: green beans (not fond of them) and parsnips (really don’t like them). The vegetable choice was “garden peas” and/or “root vegetables”. I opted for both since my experience of the root vegetables here hasn’t poisoned me with parsnips! So where the f did the green beans come from??? And they were present yesterday, and I only ordered “root vegetables”. And the day before, a huge pile of the damn things despite actively avoiding all veggie choice since “green beans” were the only choice. I’m sure they’re ganging up on me. Let’s see what tomorrow brings…

We’ve had a slight change of “inmates”. “J” has gone home (well, to a home). No more amusing, weird conversations that he takes part in because he thinks the convo is directed at him. He’s been replaced by “N”. Seems normal, not noisy so hopefully some sanity prevails here now. “D” is still being demanding with his constant bell ringing and calling “nurse”, “help”, “bloody hell” etc. And demanding I or someone else buzzes for him (I’m learning to play deaf). “R” is still here but he’s harmless mostly. And my new bed neighbour “B” keeps mostly to himself, so perhaps some quieter times for a bit? The only spanner in the works is “H”. He’s getting aggressive now. Only to the staff so far, but it’s a tad worrying. I try not to engage with him but if he engages with me, I act real friendly like. Haven’t been punched yet (like one of the poor MH workers!)

Speaking of the MH workers… the one currently on guard for (or against, not sure which) “H” doesn’t seem to quite trust my new found prowess and when I get up for a wander you know where, I have a bit of a shadow! However, he has commented that I’m looking better, stronger, so that’s good, right?

Anyway, nothing much else exciting happened, apart from a lovely visit from most of my family – my sister and two of my favourite nieces (ok, you got me, i only have 2 nieces, but they’re still my favourite nieces!). That brightened the day tremendously. Stuffed full with cups of tea and got some more of my gadgets to play with incase the tv goes down again – it did for a large part of this morning! And, some proper clothes to wear so hopefully I can discard the hospital gown. Maybe I can become more human? Hmm, perhaps not…

Tomorrow, first thing, I have an endoscopy. Looking forward to that as much as I look forward to chewing razor blades. Wish me luck…

18th March 2024, my hospital retrospective (Day 8)

What follows is the first “story” I shared with friends and family during my hospital stay. This is day 8, I didn’t “record” the previous days, there wasn’t much of interest and day 8 was where I felt more my own self and able to write. Read on…

A day in the life of a hospital inpatient.

So, the previous night proved, um, interesting. My canula was removed. Yay! Big lump of white gauze taped to the resultant “hole” to catch the few drips of my lifeblood and settle to sleep. Strange sensation on my left wrist, slightly damp feeling. Hmm, let’s check this out. I’m covered in red, my whole hand is red, my sheet is red (ok, big spots of red then), my hospital gown is red (well, big spots again).The gauze looks looks like an oversized clot, completely soaked through and red. Omg, I’m bleeding out! Much longer and my whole arm will be empty! So, call the nurse back. Got sorted, washed arm, changed gown and bedding, new gauze was applied and a lot of pressure applied and no further incident from that. Time for sleep finally…

Woke up at what I thought was 06:00, breaking my neck. Turns out it was only 03:something (but I was breaking my neck – why they insist on giving my diuretics right before sleep time!). That emergency dealt with, fall back asleep and, um, wake up at 06:00 (for reals this time). A strange presence over my left shoulder jolts me awake. A vampire? Well, maybe. Blood sugar test. (Will that make me bleed out? Will the finger prick heal?). See, sometime in the past, after a particularly nasty illness, I got labelled as diabetic. Once thus labelled, you are never unlabelled, even if subsequent tests etc. all prove negative (for example, this particular stay, the highest my blood sugar has been is 7.2 – this morning’s was 4.9). By the way, I’m not careful with diet nor sugars. So you can’t say I’m “managing” diabetes, more like I’m not diabetic! Hey ho!

Breakfast at 7(ish). Cornflakes (no added sugar – my preference) and a mug of tea (also unsweetened). Then a long wait to be allowed up to freshen up etc (sometime between 9:40 and 10:30 by the time they get to me). Oh, the reason I can’t just get on with it myself is that I am still unsteady, with little to no strength in legs and arms so need a bit of a helping hand to transfer from bed to chair.

That all done, inspect my phone for well wishes (none yet), check the WiFi (still broken), check tv, still broken! I find an old Bournemouth Echo article from 2022 when Hospedia (supplier of inpatient wifi and entertainment services) last had a problem. It took 7 days to fix (where I’m sure a good proportion of affected inmates expired of boredom! That’s one way to clear waiting lists) It’s going to be a long old day! As I write (14:00ish), things are still broken. Oh, it all went down at 19:30 or so last night – right in the middle of Bob Mortimer and Paul Whitehouse Go Fishing (on Dave channel).

Before lunchtime, needed the little boys’ room. Not sure why we call it that, I’m sure little girls use it too. Sought permission to go, permission got granted about 30 minutes later – I’m getting good at tying knots now! With permission granted, let’s see if I can do this. Little shimmy on this uncompromising chair, both arms in use and… I lift myself up out of the damn thing. First time managed since I came in here (a week ago today, more or less). Go me! Out to the aforementioned “room”, relief, then back to my chair and blank tv screen.

I can smell lunch has arrived. Apparently there will be roast pork. Haven’t had that in years. Oh, I should add, usually we choose our meals, through the tv! We get a list of options for savoury and for dessert. Not today. Because the tv is broken. Today’s choice was simply “take it or leave it”. Just as well I like roast pork, else I would be bored, and hungry! Heaven forbid.

Actually, the roast wasn’t all that bad, no crackling with the pork though – guess that’s deemed to unhealthy for hospital food. Purbeck vanilla icecream for dessert.

However, before lunch was served, a little trouble from some of my fellow inmates. We are in a bay of 6 beds, 2 occupied by normals (I class myself in that) and the rest occupied by people of diminished mental acuity. “D”, the chap who currently resides directly opposite me has some (well, a few) issues. He demands attention and if if it’s not immediately forthcoming, starts calling “nurse” or “help” or “bloody hell” or  combinations thereof until attention eventually arrives. I feel sorry for him but it’s slightly unnerving, especially today when I became the target of a badly thrown plastic coffee mug thing (it missed, it fell short, but was definitely on target). I’m sure he didn’t mean to throw it at me, he was just highly frustrated he wasn’t getting the attention he needed (they are short staffed here and the staff can’t be everywhere at once) so he chucked the mug for attention.

Anyway, lunch over, I’m bored out of my skull – still no wifi nor tv entertainment – so thought I’d write a little about my experience here today.

My other inmates? There’s “J”. Elderly chap, fallen a few times (once last night I think – the days run into each other). Nice enough chap but not entirely “with it”. Thinks everyone is talking to him so when a nurse asks me, or another patient, something, he answers as if the question was directed at him. The results can be hilarious!

And then there’s “H”. He has permanent mental health support worker with him (I say permanent, I mean there’s one always present with him but they work in shifts). He’s on a fluid restriction but will take every opportunity to grab a sly cup of water using whatever receptacle he can find lying around. He wanders back and forth constantly or he just stands and stares at close quarters. Usually in some partial state of undress which isn’t pleasant. He also gets right in the face of his support workers if they tell him off (for wandering or drinking when he shouldn’t) and has even pushed a couple of them (not forcefully, but definite physical contact). And he hovers over the drugs trolley, or the food cart which is a bit worrying. But I think he’s largely harmless.

And finally, there’s “R”. Supersonic “R”. Looks frail, speeds along like a flippin’ greyhound – has the nurses running to keep up with him.

The other “normal” I mentioned (besides me), I can’t recall his name. But a very nice, friendly, helpful chap – wants to aid everyone (think he is actually a nurse when he’s not a patient). And has the patience of a saint to deal with the likes of “D”, “J” and “H”.

Anyway, that’s me signing off now. I will write again if I have anything of further interest to tell…

Oh, and it’s 14:45 and things are still broken…

March 2024, my hospital retrospective (Intro)

Sunday

Recently, in March, on the 10th I think, I found myself being rushed to hospital. Avoiding particular details, I lost all my strength and ended up on the floor in my bathroom, unable get up and barely able to move.

Just before Christmas, I had a severe bout of Covid. That wrecked Christmas for me. But after recovering from that, I started to lose my appetite. Since the New Year, I had a total loss of appetite and anything I did try to eat went “straight through”. I didn’t feel ill as such, I just lost all interest in food and drink. Eventually, I guess, I “collapsed” due to severe nutritional deficiency and dehydration…

My phone was in my living/bed room (I live in a large studio flat, you know, one big open-plan room for living and sleeping and everything else, with attached open-plan kitchenette, and separate bathroom/toilet off of a entry hallway).

Realising I was in severe trouble here, I had to haul my sorry ass from where I lay, to where my phone was. A very pain-staking and exhausting crawl/slither, manoeuvring myself from the bathroom, out into the hall, into my living/bed room and across it to my bed where my phone was. I lost track of time but it was hours before I finally got to my bed, still on the floor, weak and very tired. I still couldn’t get up, I had to pull my bed coverings to finally retrieve my phone. This all started just before about 13:30 on the Sunday afternoon. I think it was about 18:00 or so when I finally had my phone and I could call for help.

It took roughly two hours before an ambulance came. Initial observations were done. Nothing dire was observed, but I still had no strength whatsoever. Because of where I lived (upstairs flat, tight doors and corridors, stairs only), the ambulance crew decided they would require help to get me to the ambulance. Further help took a little while to arrive too. But I was eventually taken to the ambulance. By now, I had been on the floor around 8 hours.

At the hospital, I was taken to Accident and Emergency to be assessed, blood taken, etc. Then I was moved to Acute Assessment. There, they tried to get me to sit in a chair, then get up and walk a bit. Getting up took supreme effort and I needed a lot of help, but once upright, I was able to walk a bit, although rather shakily. They said i was good for discharge and I would be sent home on that basis! I was like “what?”, knowing that I would only be in the same situation the next time I sat down. They eventually listened and, realising I was right, the took me back to a “private” room in Acute Assessments where I spent the rest of the night, in a nightmare (even in a “private” room, the area was so noisy, other patients shouting, etc,), until I eventually fell asleep.

The next day

The next day, I was moved to a 6 bed bay in Acute Assessments, more tests done and I was left to rest. I was put on a saline and anti-biotic drip. Conclusions from tests so far was that I had a long running gut infection that was responsible for my woes since Christmas. A few hours later, I was offered a sandwich, my nurse offered to make me a tuna sandwich else I could have a pre-packed cheese one. I opted for tuna. I could only eat half. That was my first real food in 48 hours by then.

Later, that same day, I was moved to another ward, I forget its name, but it was on the first floor of the hospital, in another “private” room. My sister and her partner were coming to visit that day and I had to send a flurry of texts telling them I was being moved. As it was, they met me, in the corridor, as I was being bed-wheeled to the new ward/room. Half delirious I suppose, I didn’t recognise them at first, they spoke, seemed familiar yet were strangers. How bizarre is that?

The next day, I was moved into a 6 bed bay and my “fun” really began…

My next set of posts will be the actual stories I sent my family and friends when I was more recovered and bored…

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