Another hospital visit - Mon's War On Hospitals Part II
*deep breath*
So I went back in hospital on Friday afternoon. I was admitted to Emergency and given a bed with no blankets, sheets or pillow. It was an hour before anyone came to see me. The doctor took notes about everything that's happened. The nurse, Jason, was really sweet and caring. We had some good chats and jokes while he was taking my observations.
The doctor did a reaction test on me. It was ok until my eyes weren't following her finger properly. Then I couldn't stand on one foot without falling over. She called the neurologist in Sydney, who told her all the things he wanted done to me. He can do that because he's the best in the state apparently. I don't really know what he said, except that an experienced anaesthetist was to do the procedure. So she called the anaesthetic registrar to come and assess me. Then she took blood.
Because I've had so many needles in my arms in less than a month, all of my veins are pretty beaten up. So when she tried to take blood from my right arm, she "couldn't get enough blood", so she tried my left arm. Shortly after the needle went into my arm, my arm started feeling really warm, so I said that. She said "its ok, its just the blood" so I assumed she was resting the vial against my arm. Then it started to feel hotter, so I said so. Then I looked.
She was pressing an inch cubed of folded gauze against my elbow. That's the first thing I saw. It was completely red. Then I saw the blood running down my arms. MY blood. It was so disgusting it makes me sick just thinking about it. I started sobbing, and the doctor said "yeah, you probably shouldn't look yet". She was soon finished, and wiped all the blood off my arm - starting at my wrist.
The anaesthetic registrar came and did some tests of his own. He said it was complicated because nothing was exactly "normal" about my illness and he had some doubts about exactly what was going on, so he had to consult with the head Anaesthetist. They were either going to do the blood patch that night, the next morning or run "further investigations". My bloods came back "normal", and the Anaesthetic registrar came back saying it was all too strange, so they were admitting me for "further investigations" which meant a CAT scan of my brain and an MRI scan of my spine, should my doctor decide to do so, and then probably the blood patch procedure. So I wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything. So I then went and had my CAT scan. I was told I'd have the results first thing in the morning. I was taken to the pre-op ward, where I spent the night. My family had to leave at 9pm, so I called Cameron for support and kind words, had another beautiful fight with Cameron telling me how horrible I am to him and how terrible I am as a girlfriend being so demanding for wishing he was there, and spending lots of time crying before eventually falling asleep.
(He promised he was coming the weekend before, but then remembered he had "previous commitments" which he said was that he had to sing solos at the Sunday mass at St. Mary's Cathedral. By this stage I was going into hospital, so he said he could catch the train up on Friday night, and leave on Saturday. Seeing as his father is the one who asked him, I begged him to ask him to do it without him, as Cameron's father is a highly accomplished singer by trade not to mention all the OTHER singers in the choir. Cameron said he would not allow him to come. I told him he shouldn't bother to come all that way because I would be more upset if he just left when I needed him in hospital and said I was sure his father would understand. He said he didn't. So he didn't come at all, and abused me all weekend that it was my fault I wasnt there - because I had said I didn't want him there. Then it gets to Saturday night and his father asks "So, are you coming tomorrow?" Cameron hadn't even asked him. And if he had, he would have been allowed to come. He did what he wanted to do, and that wasn't be with me while I was in hospital. And that crushes me still)
The next morning the nurse came in at 6 am to take obs. Being up all night crying meant I was a bit tired, so I went back to sleep. Then they brought me breakfast. I told them I wasn't allowed to eat, and the woman consulted the nurse, and returned saying that was untrue. So when they came back in an hour, my food was untouched and I said again that I wasn't allowed to eat or drink. Next I had a woman come in to take blood for a test. I refused, and asked why, when my tests had been all normal the night before. She snapped at me that she didn't know, that the doctor had ordered them and she was just here to take them. I hadn't even seen the doctor, so I refused and she said FINE and left. Then the mother of all bitches walks in, in the form of the same nurse who took the obs. Much less horrid when you're too asleep to care. "What's the problem here?" she announces as she comes in. A battle ensues about the fact that I'm waiting for CAT scans, I haven't seen a doctor and why should I need a blood test when I was fine 12 hours ago? She marches out and returns with the blood test results, saying my white cell count is SLIGHTLY elevated which may mean I have an acute infection. I told her I wanted I just wanted to see the doctor and get the results of my CAT scan. She told me I hadn't had one, because no-one had documented it in the charts. Unluckily for her, the nurses' station was just outside my door, so I could here hear saying on the phone to the radiologist "I have a girl here claiming she had a CAT scan - have you ever heard of her?" She then called the doctor and told him "I have a girl here refusing to eat or drink" My mother was outraged and I was very offended. I was doing what I was told to do. She said the doctor was on the way. When I asked how long, she said "I don't know" and stormed out.
The doctor came with a little Asian med student I suppose. He read my charts, said he hadn't heard anything about the CAT scan and said he doubted I'd ever had viral meningitis. I looked at my mother shocked. He then said he'd never heard of anyone having had the proposed procedure, or anyone at the hospital who was capable of it. He told me it wasn't written anyway that I was supposed to be fasting. We informed you that that was we had been told had to happen by the Anaesthetic registrar the night before that I was not allowed to eat or drink anything from midnight. Then he left to keep going, with us all in a panic about the fact that noone had ever done this before. As soon as he'd left the room we heard the nurse: "So did you sort it out for me?"
She came back in to tell me that they needed my room for a man because they couldn't put a man into a womens ward, so I had to be moved. To Maternity. MATERNITY?! I thought the prerequisite was having another person inside you. But hey, as long as I was away from that witch, I didn't care. I was starving so Mum bought me a salad sandwich which I devoured. The nurse came back in to put a needle into me for a drip. I asked why I needed a drip and she said because I was fasting. I told her I'd just eaten because the doctor had told me I could. She said he had told her I wasn't allowed to eat or drink, but I was to be put on a drip to keep the fluids up. But I couldn't drink. Riiiiiggghht. Then she APOLOGISED for us being screwed around so much. That was a surprise. She said the doctor would be around shortly, and she would see me then. What the?
The anaesthetist who was doing my procedure came and assessed me. He said that the doctor was wrong, and we were right. The CAT scan results come, and he tells me that my brain is completely normal. WELL THANK GOD!! He spoke briefly of the procedure, but was needed back in surgery, so he left. A bit later, a woman shows up with no introduction. She has gloves on, a few vials and a needle. WHY? WHAT NOW?! She's giving me the antibiotics the doctor ordered. She leaves short after, duly attacked. Nobody has mentioned antibiotics, I will not have a needle, the doctor said nothing, I will not have the injection. So many screw ups, so little time.
I get taken to Maternity. Feel a bit ashamed to talk about my pain and problems when all the other women are squeezing watermelons out of lemon sized holes. The nurses were so kind and wonderful. Not much happens, but they take obs. Anaesthetist comes back in afternoon when he eventually finds me. Touches my back, and says his only reservation is that I'm having such bad back pain that simply can't be explained. But he talks me through the procedure, I sign the papers scared witless about all the things that can go wrong, and he says he'll do it in about half an hour. Fifteen minutes later, they come to take me to theatre. Mum wants to come, so I ask Dad to call Cameron.
Mum is made to gown up. I'm told by the scrub nurse that I have the most beautiful, striking eyes she's ever seen. I'm taken aback - I haven't worn make up in a month. I tell her she can't have them. Everyone wears sterile clothing, shoe covers, and hair nets - even I have a net. I'm wheeled through halls I recognise. A little over a year ago, I was hear, in scrubs and shoe covers, on work experience. I was so excited. A woman had a masectomy for breast cancer and they showed us the breast they'd just removed in a bucket. And now I was being wheeled down the corridor I ran along looking for water for the girl who'd fainted, and into that same theatre where I watched them slice her up.
When I looked up into the lights of the operating theatre, sheer terror took over. There were 5 people in the room apart from myself, but by the end there were 8. They put me on my side and painted my back and arms with iodine. They put torniquets around my arms and tried to find veins to get blood. It took 4 attempts to get blood. They had to inject anaesthetic into the areas because of the amount of damage they did trying to find blood. My poor arms are covered in little red pinpricks surrounded by big blue bruises. They finally got a cannula in my left hand. They were trying to get me to talk about random things and think about something else. The scrub nurse had her hands on each side of my head and was telling me how brave I've been going through so much. She knew I was terrified. I was choking up. I was crying from the pain and being so scared and I think i've developed a fear of needles. My upper body started shaking uncontrollably, so they put a heated blanket on me. They also sedated me to try and calm me down, I was that scared. They injected the local anaesthetic into my spine and surrounding areas. Then he put in the epidural needle - larger than the last one. I was sobbing and scared but otherwise ok when something happened in my back and my whole body jumped. Everybody panicked. I thought "oh my god, I just put a needle through my spinal cord". I was beyond terrified. I may as well have just died. Everyone was talking at once: "DON'T MOVE" "Are you ok?" "What happened?" "You can't move, ok?" "You've gotta stay absolutely still." I told them I didn't mean to, and started to cry. The other anaesthetist took blood out of my arm with ANOTHER needle, and gave it to the man doing the procedure. He then injected the blood into my spine.
They told me it had gone well. I had jumped because he had pushed the needle through a ligament and into the space behind it. That "pop" is what had caused me to jump. I stayed in recovery for a while - i was too sedated to know how long. The nurse's name was Monica though. We went back to the ward, and it had been about an hour and a half. I had to lie still for 2 hours then sit up to see if it had worked and the headaches which I got as soon as I sat up as gravity forced my brain out of position and hit the base of my skull as I was leaking the fluid it floats in quicker than it was being made. And no headache. W00t! So I got up to go to the bathroom and my back nearly killed me, but I was ok. Back to bed. Parents left at 9pm. A phone call to my boyfriend after I'd been in surgery had me finding out he didn't even discuss coming to be with me with his family. And another wonderful fight. This time I tell him he should go out and find the girl who makes him happy seeing as I try so hard, but don't. He tells me ok, I just might. I'm exhausted from being in theatre and terrified all day.
More tears till far past midnight.
Next morning, Anaesthetist comes to see me. Says he's happy and I'm fine to be discharged. Says he'll phone the medical doc as a courtesy thing. Is shocked when we reveal the identity of the doctor who doesn't believe anyone is capable of the procedure at that hospital. He leaves and we are like him very much. He gives me his mobile phone number should the headaches return - I must call him IMMEDIATELY. Dumb ass doctor returns with trusty Asian sidekick. He tells me my CAT scan is clear - gee thanks. We weren't sweating over whether or not there was an abnormality in my brain. He leaves. We do not thank him for anything. I go home.
YAY!
That is enough of the ordeal. I got up last night and I was dizzy and my headache was back. I stopped in the doorway, begging in my head that it wasn't real and would go away. Mum got up and ran over to me. What was wrong? Where the headaches back? I just hugged her and burst into tears of shock. It couldn't be true. I've been through too much already. Tried to call boyfriend. Phone is off. Cries.
Today I woke without headache, but unable to move back or neck, which is fairly common for me these days. Spent day waiting for boyfriend to return distress call from last night. Talk on MSN for a minute before dinner is ready. He says his phone is dead and will not turn on. Does not ask anything about me. When I return from dinner, he is gone without any indication of where, why or how long, and no goodbye. Mobile still not on so I messaged his little sister asking if he's home. No reply.
Sarah's grandma just died. As in, five minutes ago. Thats so unbelievable.
Poor darling.
I feel like such a whinger.
She was in the same hospital as me all this weekend.
God bless her, and all her family.
xx
So I went back in hospital on Friday afternoon. I was admitted to Emergency and given a bed with no blankets, sheets or pillow. It was an hour before anyone came to see me. The doctor took notes about everything that's happened. The nurse, Jason, was really sweet and caring. We had some good chats and jokes while he was taking my observations.
The doctor did a reaction test on me. It was ok until my eyes weren't following her finger properly. Then I couldn't stand on one foot without falling over. She called the neurologist in Sydney, who told her all the things he wanted done to me. He can do that because he's the best in the state apparently. I don't really know what he said, except that an experienced anaesthetist was to do the procedure. So she called the anaesthetic registrar to come and assess me. Then she took blood.
Because I've had so many needles in my arms in less than a month, all of my veins are pretty beaten up. So when she tried to take blood from my right arm, she "couldn't get enough blood", so she tried my left arm. Shortly after the needle went into my arm, my arm started feeling really warm, so I said that. She said "its ok, its just the blood" so I assumed she was resting the vial against my arm. Then it started to feel hotter, so I said so. Then I looked.
She was pressing an inch cubed of folded gauze against my elbow. That's the first thing I saw. It was completely red. Then I saw the blood running down my arms. MY blood. It was so disgusting it makes me sick just thinking about it. I started sobbing, and the doctor said "yeah, you probably shouldn't look yet". She was soon finished, and wiped all the blood off my arm - starting at my wrist.
The anaesthetic registrar came and did some tests of his own. He said it was complicated because nothing was exactly "normal" about my illness and he had some doubts about exactly what was going on, so he had to consult with the head Anaesthetist. They were either going to do the blood patch that night, the next morning or run "further investigations". My bloods came back "normal", and the Anaesthetic registrar came back saying it was all too strange, so they were admitting me for "further investigations" which meant a CAT scan of my brain and an MRI scan of my spine, should my doctor decide to do so, and then probably the blood patch procedure. So I wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything. So I then went and had my CAT scan. I was told I'd have the results first thing in the morning. I was taken to the pre-op ward, where I spent the night. My family had to leave at 9pm, so I called Cameron for support and kind words, had another beautiful fight with Cameron telling me how horrible I am to him and how terrible I am as a girlfriend being so demanding for wishing he was there, and spending lots of time crying before eventually falling asleep.
(He promised he was coming the weekend before, but then remembered he had "previous commitments" which he said was that he had to sing solos at the Sunday mass at St. Mary's Cathedral. By this stage I was going into hospital, so he said he could catch the train up on Friday night, and leave on Saturday. Seeing as his father is the one who asked him, I begged him to ask him to do it without him, as Cameron's father is a highly accomplished singer by trade not to mention all the OTHER singers in the choir. Cameron said he would not allow him to come. I told him he shouldn't bother to come all that way because I would be more upset if he just left when I needed him in hospital and said I was sure his father would understand. He said he didn't. So he didn't come at all, and abused me all weekend that it was my fault I wasnt there - because I had said I didn't want him there. Then it gets to Saturday night and his father asks "So, are you coming tomorrow?" Cameron hadn't even asked him. And if he had, he would have been allowed to come. He did what he wanted to do, and that wasn't be with me while I was in hospital. And that crushes me still)
The next morning the nurse came in at 6 am to take obs. Being up all night crying meant I was a bit tired, so I went back to sleep. Then they brought me breakfast. I told them I wasn't allowed to eat, and the woman consulted the nurse, and returned saying that was untrue. So when they came back in an hour, my food was untouched and I said again that I wasn't allowed to eat or drink. Next I had a woman come in to take blood for a test. I refused, and asked why, when my tests had been all normal the night before. She snapped at me that she didn't know, that the doctor had ordered them and she was just here to take them. I hadn't even seen the doctor, so I refused and she said FINE and left. Then the mother of all bitches walks in, in the form of the same nurse who took the obs. Much less horrid when you're too asleep to care. "What's the problem here?" she announces as she comes in. A battle ensues about the fact that I'm waiting for CAT scans, I haven't seen a doctor and why should I need a blood test when I was fine 12 hours ago? She marches out and returns with the blood test results, saying my white cell count is SLIGHTLY elevated which may mean I have an acute infection. I told her I wanted I just wanted to see the doctor and get the results of my CAT scan. She told me I hadn't had one, because no-one had documented it in the charts. Unluckily for her, the nurses' station was just outside my door, so I could here hear saying on the phone to the radiologist "I have a girl here claiming she had a CAT scan - have you ever heard of her?" She then called the doctor and told him "I have a girl here refusing to eat or drink" My mother was outraged and I was very offended. I was doing what I was told to do. She said the doctor was on the way. When I asked how long, she said "I don't know" and stormed out.
The doctor came with a little Asian med student I suppose. He read my charts, said he hadn't heard anything about the CAT scan and said he doubted I'd ever had viral meningitis. I looked at my mother shocked. He then said he'd never heard of anyone having had the proposed procedure, or anyone at the hospital who was capable of it. He told me it wasn't written anyway that I was supposed to be fasting. We informed you that that was we had been told had to happen by the Anaesthetic registrar the night before that I was not allowed to eat or drink anything from midnight. Then he left to keep going, with us all in a panic about the fact that noone had ever done this before. As soon as he'd left the room we heard the nurse: "So did you sort it out for me?"
She came back in to tell me that they needed my room for a man because they couldn't put a man into a womens ward, so I had to be moved. To Maternity. MATERNITY?! I thought the prerequisite was having another person inside you. But hey, as long as I was away from that witch, I didn't care. I was starving so Mum bought me a salad sandwich which I devoured. The nurse came back in to put a needle into me for a drip. I asked why I needed a drip and she said because I was fasting. I told her I'd just eaten because the doctor had told me I could. She said he had told her I wasn't allowed to eat or drink, but I was to be put on a drip to keep the fluids up. But I couldn't drink. Riiiiiggghht. Then she APOLOGISED for us being screwed around so much. That was a surprise. She said the doctor would be around shortly, and she would see me then. What the?
The anaesthetist who was doing my procedure came and assessed me. He said that the doctor was wrong, and we were right. The CAT scan results come, and he tells me that my brain is completely normal. WELL THANK GOD!! He spoke briefly of the procedure, but was needed back in surgery, so he left. A bit later, a woman shows up with no introduction. She has gloves on, a few vials and a needle. WHY? WHAT NOW?! She's giving me the antibiotics the doctor ordered. She leaves short after, duly attacked. Nobody has mentioned antibiotics, I will not have a needle, the doctor said nothing, I will not have the injection. So many screw ups, so little time.
I get taken to Maternity. Feel a bit ashamed to talk about my pain and problems when all the other women are squeezing watermelons out of lemon sized holes. The nurses were so kind and wonderful. Not much happens, but they take obs. Anaesthetist comes back in afternoon when he eventually finds me. Touches my back, and says his only reservation is that I'm having such bad back pain that simply can't be explained. But he talks me through the procedure, I sign the papers scared witless about all the things that can go wrong, and he says he'll do it in about half an hour. Fifteen minutes later, they come to take me to theatre. Mum wants to come, so I ask Dad to call Cameron.
Mum is made to gown up. I'm told by the scrub nurse that I have the most beautiful, striking eyes she's ever seen. I'm taken aback - I haven't worn make up in a month. I tell her she can't have them. Everyone wears sterile clothing, shoe covers, and hair nets - even I have a net. I'm wheeled through halls I recognise. A little over a year ago, I was hear, in scrubs and shoe covers, on work experience. I was so excited. A woman had a masectomy for breast cancer and they showed us the breast they'd just removed in a bucket. And now I was being wheeled down the corridor I ran along looking for water for the girl who'd fainted, and into that same theatre where I watched them slice her up.
When I looked up into the lights of the operating theatre, sheer terror took over. There were 5 people in the room apart from myself, but by the end there were 8. They put me on my side and painted my back and arms with iodine. They put torniquets around my arms and tried to find veins to get blood. It took 4 attempts to get blood. They had to inject anaesthetic into the areas because of the amount of damage they did trying to find blood. My poor arms are covered in little red pinpricks surrounded by big blue bruises. They finally got a cannula in my left hand. They were trying to get me to talk about random things and think about something else. The scrub nurse had her hands on each side of my head and was telling me how brave I've been going through so much. She knew I was terrified. I was choking up. I was crying from the pain and being so scared and I think i've developed a fear of needles. My upper body started shaking uncontrollably, so they put a heated blanket on me. They also sedated me to try and calm me down, I was that scared. They injected the local anaesthetic into my spine and surrounding areas. Then he put in the epidural needle - larger than the last one. I was sobbing and scared but otherwise ok when something happened in my back and my whole body jumped. Everybody panicked. I thought "oh my god, I just put a needle through my spinal cord". I was beyond terrified. I may as well have just died. Everyone was talking at once: "DON'T MOVE" "Are you ok?" "What happened?" "You can't move, ok?" "You've gotta stay absolutely still." I told them I didn't mean to, and started to cry. The other anaesthetist took blood out of my arm with ANOTHER needle, and gave it to the man doing the procedure. He then injected the blood into my spine.
They told me it had gone well. I had jumped because he had pushed the needle through a ligament and into the space behind it. That "pop" is what had caused me to jump. I stayed in recovery for a while - i was too sedated to know how long. The nurse's name was Monica though. We went back to the ward, and it had been about an hour and a half. I had to lie still for 2 hours then sit up to see if it had worked and the headaches which I got as soon as I sat up as gravity forced my brain out of position and hit the base of my skull as I was leaking the fluid it floats in quicker than it was being made. And no headache. W00t! So I got up to go to the bathroom and my back nearly killed me, but I was ok. Back to bed. Parents left at 9pm. A phone call to my boyfriend after I'd been in surgery had me finding out he didn't even discuss coming to be with me with his family. And another wonderful fight. This time I tell him he should go out and find the girl who makes him happy seeing as I try so hard, but don't. He tells me ok, I just might. I'm exhausted from being in theatre and terrified all day.
More tears till far past midnight.
Next morning, Anaesthetist comes to see me. Says he's happy and I'm fine to be discharged. Says he'll phone the medical doc as a courtesy thing. Is shocked when we reveal the identity of the doctor who doesn't believe anyone is capable of the procedure at that hospital. He leaves and we are like him very much. He gives me his mobile phone number should the headaches return - I must call him IMMEDIATELY. Dumb ass doctor returns with trusty Asian sidekick. He tells me my CAT scan is clear - gee thanks. We weren't sweating over whether or not there was an abnormality in my brain. He leaves. We do not thank him for anything. I go home.
YAY!
That is enough of the ordeal. I got up last night and I was dizzy and my headache was back. I stopped in the doorway, begging in my head that it wasn't real and would go away. Mum got up and ran over to me. What was wrong? Where the headaches back? I just hugged her and burst into tears of shock. It couldn't be true. I've been through too much already. Tried to call boyfriend. Phone is off. Cries.
Today I woke without headache, but unable to move back or neck, which is fairly common for me these days. Spent day waiting for boyfriend to return distress call from last night. Talk on MSN for a minute before dinner is ready. He says his phone is dead and will not turn on. Does not ask anything about me. When I return from dinner, he is gone without any indication of where, why or how long, and no goodbye. Mobile still not on so I messaged his little sister asking if he's home. No reply.
Sarah's grandma just died. As in, five minutes ago. Thats so unbelievable.
Poor darling.
I feel like such a whinger.
She was in the same hospital as me all this weekend.
God bless her, and all her family.
xx