You couldn’t make it up !!!!

Monday 6th December 2010

On 1st July I had an appointment to see the Back Man.

He said “I see from your records you had a MRI scan in September (2009). I’d like you to have an up-to-date one done and also some x-rays on your back. I’ll see you again once they’ve been done”.

For once the NHS was on the ball and on 13th July I had the said MRI scan and x-rays.

I then waited, waited and waited for a follow-up appointment to see the Back Man. One eventually arrived for sometime in November.

Shortly before the appointment I received a letter from the hospital to say the November appointment had had to be cancelled but they had given me another one for Tuesday 4th January at 2.30pm.

Today I received two letter from the hospital. The first one said that an appointment had been made for me to see the Back Man on Wednesday 5th January at 3.05pm. No mention was made of the previous days appointment…

The second letter said that the Wednesday 5th January’s appointment had had to be cancelled and another one had been made for Wednesday 2nd March.

Provided the hospital doesn’t change the appointment again, when I go and see the Back Man in March, it’ll be nine months since I had the second MRI scan.

So much for getting an up-to-date MRI scan !!!!

Unexpected news

Friday 17th September 2010

I had an appointment to see Kermit at 9am to find out if the plastic man had changed his mind and agreed to do the necessary skin graft.

Shortly after I had been ushered into the consulting room, what looked like a registrar picked up my notes from the box outside the consulting room door and went into the consultants office to look over them.

I hate seeing registrars so wasn’t amused when one of them picked up my notes with the intention of seeing me.

Kermit walked into the consultants office and the registrar, who was reading my notes, mention my name and mumbled something which I couldn’t hear.
“Oh, it’s a long story”, replied Kermit, taking my notes from him and left the office alone.

“How are you”, he asked, as he came into the consulting room.
“Fine”, I replied.

He asked how I had got on with the back man so I explained what he had said about surgery and the possibility of ending up paralysed.

Kermit nodded, “any back surgery carries a risk, and sadly because of everything that’s gone on with you, it’s greater. However he’s the expert so I’m sure he’ll go through everything with you”.

He flicked through my notes, “I had a chat with the plastic surgeon", he said, "and we’ve both come to the agreement that it would be best if we left thing well alone”.

“Ok”, I said, slowly.

“One of the hardest things a consultant has to do is decide when to draw the line. I could do the operation, but it may not work. That’s very frustrating for a consultant when things don’t go the way they want”.

“It would be a tough operation, one that takes a lot of skill and might be a challenge too far”, he added.

He closed my notes then said, “you seem to be coping very well the way you are, and have adapted to it. If you had said you weren’t then I might have considered it”.

HOW DARE HE !!!!! How dare he say that because I’ve coped well without having a hip, that he won’t do the operation. What choice did I have. Staying in bed all day and feeling sorry for myself wasn’t an option. I had to cope with it. It was as simple as that.

All along he had been extremely enthusiastic about putting in a new hip. He said he loved doing complex and challenging operations and wasn’t happy when the plastic man was stalling.

Now it appeared that he hadn’t the necessary skills he thought he had. So because of his lack of ability, to try and make him feel better, he said he was pleased with how I was coping with everything.

What I am most annoyed at is his arrogance. Instead of saying ‘I don’t have the skills to do the operation so I’ll refer you to someone who does’, he has simply drawn a line under it, with the attitude of ‘if I can’t do it, then no one can’.

I was going to seek a second opinion if the plastic man had said no. I never thought I’d have to do that with Kermit….

Drive time

Friday 10th September 2010

I did something today that I hadn’t done for over 25 years – and that was have a driving lesson….

Due to being hipless, and because of one thing and another, getting back driving would require me to part use hand controls.

I’ve never seen a car with hand controls, let alone drive using them, so I booked a driving lesson with ‘Bob’.

It was one of the most scariest things I have even done !!!!!!!! Think rubbing your stomach and patting your head at the same time but a thousand times more difficult, well that’s what it was like….

Thankfully I already knew how to drive so only had to concentrate on one hand doing the accelerating and braking, while the other hand steered using a knob.

Bob was impressed with how quickly I picked it up but I thought it best to have another lesson next week so I could practice reversing and parking.

I’m hoping that when I see Kermit a week today, getting a car fitted with hand controls and taking the driving lessons, will be all for nothing, and that I can have a new hip put in. However I always look on the black side so I am taking no chances !!!

Today is also the first anniversary of me being admitted to hospital. I can’t believe how quickly the time has flown by. Hopefully come the second anniversary I will be on two feet…

Halfway up the stairs….

Thursday 9th September 2010

….is the stairs where I sit. That’s because my stairlift has died on me !!!!

I rang the stair lift hire company and someone is coming out to fix it tomorrow.

John had a poke around it and pulled out a mangled elastic band which seemed to have been the problem as it’s now working again.

I’ll still get the little repair man to come out and have a look at it as it had been playing up for a while so a service won’t do it any harm.

Even though I complain and moan about the stair lift, it’s certainly has made my life a lot easier as walking up and down the stairs is not easy….

Back to normal

Friday 27th August 2010

Yet again I had to rang the hospital as the follow-up MRI scan appointment, which I was told ‘I should get very shortly’ two weeks ago, hadn’t materialised.

I asked the Back Man’s secretary when I would be receiving the appointment, seeing as the scan had been brought to his attention.

“He hasn’t had a chance to look at it yet”, she snapped, “you’ll get one when he’s done so”.

It was so nice to see the wonderful NHS back to its normal self…..

Crash, bang, wallop

That’s what I did at 4am this morning…..

I got up out of bed to go to the loo and somehow lost my footing.

I stumbled into my bedside table and both me, the contents of the table and it ended up in a heap on the floor.

I sustained a bruised and sore hip from landing on stickies and a throbbing headache from hitting my face on the floor. My table sadly suffered a broken leg.

That’s the second time I’ve ‘kissed’ the bedroom carpet while going to the loo during the night. If I make it a hat trick I might be asking for a bedpan !!!!!

Praise be

Friday 13th August 2010

On Tuesday I received a letter from the hospital regarding my next appointment to see Kermit. They regretted to inform me that my appointment for the 10th September has had to be cancelled and gave me a new date of the 24th September.

I wasn’t best pleased as I had already changed the appointment to coincide with John being on holiday from work.

I rang the hospital and explained the problem.
“I’m afraid all of Mr Green’s appointments for the week beginning the 6th September have been cancelled”, said the appointments clerk.
“Do you have anything for the following week”, I asked, hopefully.
She punched away on her keyboard.
“Nothing for the 13th… the 14th is full… so is 15th… and the 16th… and nothing for the 17th…”.
“I see”, I replied, disappointed.
“Are you available on the 17th September at 9am”, she asked.
“Yes”, I answered.
“The 17th is yours”, she said, “I’ve cancelled the patient who had that appointment and reissued them with a new date”.

I did feel awful for stealing someone’s appointment time but I had had my fair share of cancelled appointments so it was time I had some payback…

Last Monday I rang the hospital because I had not heard anything following the MRI scan on my back two weeks ago. I was informed that the scan still hadn’t been sent across to the consultant, so an appointment can’t be made until the consultant had looked at the results.

Given that scans and x-rays are now on computer it was inexcusable that it should take this long for them to be sent to consultants. All it needed was for the radiographer to press ‘send’ on her computer. If the ‘Bionic Vet’ could receive his MRI scans in a matter of seconds after asking for them from his radiographer, the same should happen with the NHS….

This morning I rang the hospital again about my scan results. Inadvertently I had asked to speak to ‘The Man Himself’s’* secretary (I’ve got that many consultants on the go, it was hard at times to remember who’s who….). After getting my details on the computer she found out that my scan had finally been received a couple of days ago. However no action had been taken on it so it was just sitting there waiting for someone to forward it to my back consultant.
“No problem”, she said, “I’ll forward it to your consultant so you should get an appointment very shortly”.

Instead of complaining about the NHS, as I usually do, I am praising them for not only doing their job but also going over and above what is expected of them. Thank you.

* the consultant I was seeing for my knee (except I never got to see him....)

Never again !!!!

Friday 23rd July 2010

For a while my mam had been saying it was a shame I wasn’t able to get out when she came to visit me on a Friday as she could take me out for a walk in Wizzy.

What this really meant was she was fed up of staying indoors and wanted to get out.

During the weekend would be the Sunderland airshow. This was Europe’s biggest free air display so it would attract over one million people. The consequence of this was we would be prisoners in our own home as the local roads would be closed so getting in and out would be virtually impossible.

Tomorrow would be John’s birthday, and as we wouldn’t be able to go to the Chinese restaurant for our traditional birthday lunch due to the airshow (the restaurant is next to where the airshow would place), he asked if he could have one of the ‘banned weekend meals’ instead. Every bank holiday we have food that isn’t allowed the rest of the year due to their calorific value. His birthday meal would be ‘Billy the Butchers’ sausages, bacon, egg, chips, beans and Pease pudding.

I asked my mam last night if she would take me to Sea Road that morning to pay the newspapers and also to get a couple of items, which I couldn’t get from Morrisons that night, as I needed them for John’s birthday.

She said yes so John put my car at the front of the house so Wizzy could be ready and waiting for me in the garage. All I would have to do was press the garage door button for it to automatically open. Sounds simple enough….

After being fortified with coffee my mam said she was ready for our adventure out. As the burglar alarm would need to be set when we go out I gave my mam a demonstration on how to operate it. Thankfully it was key operated so there was no numbers to punch in as my mam had a problem remembering numbers.

To set the alarm all my mam had to do was insert the key into the ‘off’ position, turn it to ‘number one’ position, pull it out, then exit the house before the alarm beeped 21 times to say it was activated.

After helping me out of the back door, my mam went to set the alarm. An age later she opened the back door.
“I can’t get the alarm to set”, she said.
“All you do is turn the key”, I replied.
“I’ve tried but it’s not working”.
“Ok I’m coming”, I sighed, heaving myself back inside the house.

“Show me what you did”, I asked, as we stood next to the alarm.
She put the key in and turned it to the position marked ‘Test’.
“That’s why it’s not working”, I said, “you’re meant to turn it to number one”.
Having shown her yet again how the alarm worked, she tried again.

Without too much trouble (“you need to press the red button to open the garage door”, I told my mam – “what red button”, she asked – “the red button straight in front of you”, I pointed – “this”, she said, – “no mam. That’s a white plug socket….”) we ventured out into the back lane.

We shared the ‘driving’ as she found me quite heavy to push – thanks !!! I’m not that heavy…

All was going well until we came to a kerb. I told her to take it gently and slowly and there would be no problem in getting Wizzy down. ‘Gently’ and ‘slowly’ must have meant different things in my mam’s language as she went at lighting speed towards the kerb. Thank goodness Wizzy had arms to hang on to I nearly ended up in a heap on the road. I was beginning to think wearing the seatbelt, which came with Wizzy, might be a good idea. Things that go down also had to go up so I gripped onto Wizzy’s arms for dear life !!!!

Paying the newspapers went well, however the same could not be said for visiting the greengrocers. The entrance to the greengrocers was quite tight for wheelchairs, but with a little bit of manoeuvring, it was possible to get through ok. Not though it you have mam as a driver. I had said several times that I could manage Wizzy myself as I knew where and when to turn the wheels. Mam was having none of it. Consequently, going in and coming out, I nearly had my feet severed off at the ankles.

Thankfully only one more place to go then we could go home. Billy the Butchers wasn’t wheelchair friendly (shame on you Billy….) so having told my mam several times, over and over again, what I wanted (four links of ‘Old English’ sausage and a large tub of Pease pudding) she went in.

My mam could win a gold medal at the Olympic Talking Event so spent ages talking to Billy the Butcher and another customer. I was so pleased it wasn’t raining….

Next stop home.

After judging there was enough room to squeeze past cars that were parked on the pavement, we trundled along slowly passed the cars, with mam doing the driving.
“Mam, you’ve getting very close to the cars”, I commented.
She took no notice.
“Mam, you need to move Wizzy a little to the right”.
She took no notice.
Having narrowly missed being decapitated by a wing mirror, I took control of Wizzy and navigated it through the parked cars.

After crossing the road at a small cross roads junction (making sure to remind my mam that you need to look all ways when crossing a road – she thought by pushing a wheelchair made her invincible at crossing roads so looking wasn’t necessary) I decided it would be safer to stay on the road as there was only one parked car in the street.

The road was down a steepish hill so I begged her to keep tight hold of Wizzy. We made our way slowly down the street, moving further and further towards the left hand side gutter of the road. After scraping Wizzy’s wheels against the edge of the pavement, I suggested we moved out a little…

We were getting nearer and nearer to the parked car.
“Should we move out a little so we can get past the car”, I asked.
No response and the parked car was getting closer.
“I think we should move out now”, I said.
Still no response. The parked car was getting even closer.
“Mam. We need to move out now or we’ll hit the car”.
No response. We were now inches from the car.
“MOVE OUT !!!!!”, I yelled.
She did, just narrowly missing taking the side off the car….

At last we were outside our back door. All my mam had to do now was switch off the alarm. Quite simple really. Once the back door was opened the alarm would beep. Instead of dashing to manually switch it off with the key, my mam could switch it off by pressing a button on a remote, which she had been shown several times what button to press.

The back door opened. No beeps. Sometimes it did take the door sensor a second or two to register that the door had been opened so I wasn’t concerned. My mam reached for the remote and pressed the button. Nothing happened.

“I did turn the key to number one”, she stressed.

I checked the alarm. It was in the ‘off’ position. What she had done was turned the key to ‘number one’, then turned it back to the ‘off’ position to pull out the key…

Later that afternoon my mam said, “I thought we did quite well for our first time out. We’ll be much better the next time”.

I am going to have to break it to her gently but there won’t be a next time !!!!!!!!

Typical NHS

Tuesday 13th July 2010

On Thursday morning I’d received an appointment in the post from the hospital for my MRI scan. It was 13th July at 5.45pm. Given that the usual waiting time for MRI scans is eight weeks I was well impressed….

As the appointment time was 5.45pm, there was a possibility that John might be able to finish work slightly earlier than normal, which would save him having to take a half day.

Later that morning I received a telephone call from the MRI department.

“We’ve got a slight problem”, said the woman, “we’ve just noticed on your records that you are due to have some x-rays taken on your back after you’ve had your scan. The x-ray department closes at 5pm. After that it’s emergency on-call cover only. Do you think you would be able to get here for 3.45pm”.
“I’m not sure”, I replied, “I’ll need to speak to my husband as he’ll now have to arrange a half day off work, instead of finishing early”.

I thought it was too good to be true !!!!

Having contacted John who said he was happy to take the half day, I rang them back and said the new time would be fine.

That afternoon (Tuesday) after John had dropped me off at the hospital (not a car park space to be had for love nor money !!!) I wheeled myself to the x-ray department.

Rather than handing over my appointment letter (which would only confuse things…), I explained about the change of appointment time because they close at 5pm..
“I wish !!”, said the receptionist, “we’re open 24 hours”.
After typing on her computer the receptionist looked at the waiting area, “I’ll send you for the scan first”, she said, “as there’s quite a few people waiting for x-rays”.

About five minutes after I’d arrived at the deserted MRI scan waiting area, a radiographer came out and asked if I could complete the necessary form (did I have any metal objects in me etc). Having replied no to the verbal questions (did I have a bra on; anything metal in my pockets; was I wearing any jewellery or a watch; did my jeans have any metal studs in) my bag was put into a locker and I was given the metal locker key (!!!) .

Another radiographer then arrived with a hospital wheelchair. No metal (or should that be no NHS metal….) was allowed in the scanning room so I had to swap chairs.
“I’ll lock your chair in the changing room”, she said, “just in case someone makes off with it”. Charming !!!!!!

I’d had three MRI scans before so knew what to expect. Their music choice on the headphones was ok, but the volume could have done with being turned up as the scanner was very noisy.

Fifteen minutes later and it was all done. One of the radiographers helped me off the scanner and I’m glad he did, as lying flat on my back, with my knees bent did nothing for my back pain !!!!

I wheeled myself back to x-ray, which by this time had emptied, and waited to be called.
“Marie Harper”, shouted the radiographer.
Having caught her eye, she then pushed me down to the next waiting room.
“We called you twenty minutes ago”, she snapped.
“I was told to report for my MRI scanner first”, I protested.
“It doesn’t matter”, she huffed.

She pushed me down the long length of the corridor, passing two x-ray rooms, “we’ve only got one x-ray machine working today”, she said, “the others are all waiting to be repaired….”.

About five minutes later another radiographer came into the waiting area.
“Mrs Harper”, she asked.
“Yes”.
“What’re doing down here”, she snapped, “you’re meant to be at the waiting room”.
“I was told to come here by the radiographer”, I replied.
She pushed me up to the waiting area where the two x-ray rooms were supposed to have been out of action.
“I’ll be back in a mo”, she said, “as I need to get you to sign the consent form”.
“Mrs Harper. What are you doing up here”, snapped the first radiographer, “you’re supposed to be down at the bottom end”.
“I was told by another radiographer that I was meant to be here”.
She wasn’t amused so grabbed a hold of Wizzie’s handles, ready to push me down to the bottom waiting room.
“Where do you doing”, asked the second radiographer to the first one, “she’s mine”.
“No she’s not. I’ve got her paperwork”, replied number two, shaking the form.
“What does this look like”, said number one, shaking her form.
“Ladies please”, I intervened, “you don’t have to fight over me”.
“Is she next on your list to do”, asked number one.
“No”, replied number two.
“She is on mine, is I’m having her”.
Number one left in a bit of a huff….

Number two radiographer sat down next to me and asked me to complete the consent form.
“I noticed on your form you were meant to have your MRI scan at quarter to six, then x-rays after that. Why are you here early”, she asked.
I explained about the telephone call I had received from the MRI department.
“X-ray is open 24 hours a day, three hundred and sixty five days of the year”, she replied, “so you could have come at your correct time”.
I was not amused that John had wasted a half day for nothing.

While I was waiting for John to pick me up, a male A&E nurse walked past me, went to his car and remove something from the boot. I gave him a real hard stare when he walked passed me. He was parked in a disabled car park space (and no he didn’t have a blue badge).

No wonder we can’t get parked !!!

Worse than useless

Friday 9th July 2010

I get my repeat prescriptions collected and delivered by my local chemist (it’s not HSBC, TSB, Natwest, Barclays….). However they’re not very good.

As there were a couple of items which would last me for the following month, I rang the chemist and asked if they could be missed off just for that month. I was told that would be arranged, however a week later when I took delivery of my prescription all the items were there.

When my next prescription was due, I rang them and asked if they could leave off the two items, as I had more than enough of them. I dealt with the same person as before, to which he replied there wouldn’t be a problem this time. When my package arrived, sure enough, the two items were missing. So too though were oxynorm and oxycontin, my strong painkillers. Another phone call to them, and having got the same person as before, he promised it wouldn’t happen again.

The following month when my prescription arrived I had to ring the chemist again and got the usual person on the other end.
“I’m afraid I’ve been given codeine painkillers instead of my oxynorm”, I said.
“That’s correct Madam”, he replied.
“No”, I said, “you’ll find my prescription is for oxynorm”.
He tapped away on the computer, “yes”, he said, “oxynorm is what we have you down for”.
“So why then”, I enquired, “have I been given codeine”.
“They’re the same painkillers”, he answered.
“I think you’ll find they’re not”, I said, “oxynorm is a controlled drug, codeine isn’t’”.
“Yes, Madam, that is correct”, he replied.
“So how come I’ve been give codeine”.
“Because they’re the same drug”, he replied.
I was starting to get a annoyed, “they’re completely different. Oxynorm is much stronger than codeine, which is why it’s a CD”.
“Yes Madam, that’s correct”, he answered, “oxynorm is a controlled drug”.
“So why then, have I been given codeine”, I stressed.
“Because they are the same…”.

After 10 minutes of being told they were the same drug, I politely told him to forget it, then rang my GP’s surgery and ordered some oxynorm. Thank goodness I had a pre-payment prescription certificated !!!

The next month I rang the chemist and asked if they could make sure that I would be given the correct painkillers. I was assured this would happen. When I took delivery of them, guess what was missing, my oxynorm !!!!

Because oxynorm was a controlled drug, my GP was reluctant to give me more than one box at any one time. The box only held 56 tablets, and I could take eight or more a day, they didn’t last me very long. Consequently I had to keep re-ordering them every week. I rang the chemist (silly me !!!) and asked if they would be able to submit the repeat weekly prescription for oxynorm, as well as my monthly big batch of items. I was told that wouldn’t be a problem.
Two weeks later and not only had I not received my monthly items, but I hadn’t received any oxynorm. Yet another phone call to the chemist. The assistant said she would have to look into this so would call me back.
Half an hour later she rang back.
“I’m afraid our computer system doesn’t have the facility to allow a customer more than one prescription order, so you’ll have to choose which one you want us to see to”.

Even though they couldn’t get my monthly package right, I decided to leave things as they were. I did, however make them aware that I wasn’t happy that no one bothered to inform me that it couldn’t be done.

She then said their usual delivery driver was on holiday, and as no one in the chemist was insured to carry controlled drugs in their vehicle for health and safety reasons (!!!), I would have to wait until the driver came back to work for them to be delivered.
I asked what were their opening hours, then said John would call in for them either that night or the following morning.
John called in that night and asked the assistant for my prescription.
“I’m sorry but we’ve got nothing for that name here”, she replied.
“You must have”, he said, “my wife rang up this morning and was told her prescription was ready”.
The woman shook her head, checking again.
The pharmacist-cum-manager who was at the back of the chemist quickly stopped what she was doing and rushed toward the counter,
“Mr Harper”, she smiled.
“I’ll deal with this”, she said to the assistant.
“If you could give me one moment, I’ll get your wife’s prescription…”.

I was running low on my oxynorm so rang my GP surgery for a repeat prescription. I was told it would be ready for the chemist to collect it on Tuesday.

By Friday nothing had arrived so I rang the chemist that morning. The assistant tapped away on the computer.
“Yes we do have them”, she said, “however as they are a controlled drug, we were waiting for you to come and sign for them”.
“I get them delivered !!!!”, I snapped.
She tapped away on her computer again, “Oh yes”, she said, sheepishly, “they’re already on the van so you’ll get them this afternoon”.

I give up…..

The Back Man

Thursday 1st July 2010

I had an appointment to see a consultant about my back that morning. As the appointment time was 8.30am we thought we stood a chance of getting parked at the hospital.

Not a chance !!!!! As usual building work was taking place so they had blocked off at least a third of the car park. Sunderland hospital has got to be one of the worst for being ‘anti-car’.

Years ago parking wasn’t a problem. However with the Trust closing smaller hospitals in the area to make every thing under one roof, something had to be sacrificed for the building work and that was the car parks.

Having said that, the staff were to blame too. In the late 80’s the Trust built the staff a huge free multi-story car park. The old car parks would then be used just for patients and visitors.

Why, no one knows, but the staff refused to use their new car park and continued using the old ones. With a building not being used, the Trust eventually converted it into wards.

The Back Man was running a little late, not as much as Kermit normally is though, so got into see him at 8.50am.
After introducing himself and the student who was shadowing him that day, he flicked through my notes, “You’re one complicated lady”, he smiled.
“Don’t I know it…”, I replied.
“I’ve had a long chat with Mr Green so he’s filled me in on what happened last year. Because of all the work that’s gone on, finding a cure isn’t going to be easy. Surgery will have to be the last resort as there are a lot of risks involved, one of which is paralysis”.
Mmmm, I thought. Knowing my luck…..

“I see from your records you had a MRI scan in September. I’d like you to have an up-to-date one done and also some x-rays on your back. I’ll see you again once they’ve been done”.

To be honest the appointment was a bit of a waste of time. Why couldn’t the Back Man have asked for the scan and x-rays to be taken before I saw him. He would have known all along that they would have been necessary.

Now for the long wait for the MRI scan…..

The tooth, the whole tooth and nothing but the tooth

Monday 28th June 2010

Thursday morning whilst I was having some muesli for breakfast I bit on something hard. That doesn’t seem like a nut, I thought.

It wasn’t, it was a big bit from one of my fillings. I’d lost fillings before and they weren’t funny. Drinking anything remotely hot or cold caused immense pain so I bucked up courage to take a tiny sip of tea.

I scrunched my face in anticipation of the forthcoming pain. Nothing. I tried again. Still nothing. I took a bigger sip of tea. Again nothing.

Later, having poked around with my tongue, I found where the filling had come from and took a look at it in the mirror. It looked like only part of the filling had come away, which was probably why I hadn’t been experiencing any pain.

Nevertheless I knew it needed to be looked at so rang my dentist. I had made my dentist aware of my mobility problem back in November and they were happy for me to remain on their books (anyone not visiting the surgery for 18 months is automatically removed) and if I had any problems, they would arrange a home visit.

“I’d need to speak to your dentist about this”, said the receptionist, “however she’s not in today but will be tomorrow, so I’ll ring you then”.

True to her word she did.
“I’ve spoken to your dentist”, she said, “and I’m afraid there is nothing we can do”.
“I was told you could arrange a home visit”, I replied, reminding her of what had been agreed in November.
“I’m sorry, but she is not prepared to do anything. All we can do is recommend that you find another dentist”.

Having been at that practice for over 16 years I was not a happy bunny !!!

Whilst my tooth wasn’t causing me any problems I knew it would sooner or later (4pm on Christmas eve was John’s prediction…) so had to find another dentist.

That morning I rang the local dentist advisory service and explained what had happened. They gave me details of two dentists in the local area who, not only had good disabled access and late opening hours (so John could take me after he finished work), but would be able to take me on as a new NHS patient. They also weren’t overly pleased with my dentist and said they take the matter further if I wished.

I said yes. I knew the outcome would be still the same, however I wanted them to know that I wasn’t happy with the way I had been treated.

The advisory service rang back later that afternoon.
“I’ve just spoken to them”, she said, “and explained that you weren’t very happy. They claim they contacted all the dentists in the Sunderland area to see if they would take you on as a patient, however all of them weren’t taking on new NHS patients”.
“Somehow I doubt that”, I replied, “especially since you gave me two who were”.
“I also asked them why you were told they could arrange a home visit”, she said, “they said you were given the wrong information and don’t know who could have told you this”.
“It was my dentist who told me…”, I answered.
“They have offered to speak to you further about this”, she added.
“No thanks”, I said, “it’s not worth it. I’ll just get more lies and excuses”.

Having had a good relationship with my dentist (I was one of her very first patients in when she opened her practice; as a wedding present she gave me a free clean and polish a couple of days before the big day; if I needed to see her in an emergency, she always fitted me in, no matter how full her appointments were), I was genuinely upset with the way I had been treated.

I hope my new dentist, who ever he/she may be, will be a little more courteous.

Maiden voyage

Saturday 26th June 2010

That night was the maiden voyage for the new bath lift.

It was a little strange being slowly lowered into the water. I felt a bit like a submarine….

As I was given the ‘deluxe’ model because of the problems with my back, the back rest reclined automatically. Had I liked to read in the bath, it would be perfect.

The only slight niggle I had with it was I wasn’t fully submerged. My idea of a bath is being completely covered with water, with only my head popping out.

However it’s a lot easier to get in and out of the bath than before, so I’m willing to put up with it.

Bathing delights

Thursday 24th June 2010

The OT called that evening with my new bath lift.

He had asked that John be there when he called as he needed to show him how to operate it. This was a little irritating as the bath lift was for me, not John.

As expected John got to know the entire workings of it whilst I was made to sit outside the bathroom.

I’d had enough of being ignored so pushed my way into the bathroom.
“Looks very nice”, I said, looking at the bath which now had the bath lift in it.
“I’ll show you both how it works shortly”, he said, then continued explaining to John about how it should be kept on charge continuously.

He then showed both of us how to make the lift go up and down.
“Looks simple enough”, I said, then tried to squeeze myself out of the bathroom.
“I’m afraid you’ve got to test it”, he said.
“I already have”, I replied, “I did when you brought one here for me to try”.
“That was then”, he said, “I have got to see how you will manage with this one”.

I couldn’t see what the problem was as both lifts were identical. However he wasn’t going to leave until I’d given him a demonstration, so after removing my slippers, I shuffled onto the lift seat.
“How does that feel”, he asked, as I was sitting in the bath fully clothed.
I was really tempted to say “stupid” but didn’t. Instead I said it was fine.

“That’s me done”, he said, once I had got out of the bath, “all I need is a couple of signatures from you”.

The ‘you’ turned out to be John, instead of me. I do so like being ignored !!!!!

Ebenezer Scrooge

Monday 7th June 2010

Had a visit that afternoon from the council’s finance officer. It was to see if we were eligible for a grant to put a ramp at the back of the house.

I had been asked to have ready all bank and any savings accounts statements. The OT had said that the savings limit for the grant was quite high so didn’t think there would be a problem in getting the grant.

The officer explained that the saving limit was £6k so we would be penalised if we had anything above that level. We had.

I took exception to being penalised purely because we were savers and not spenders. We could have been saving our pennies so I could have my hip operation done privately, should the plastic man say he didn’t have any funds in his budget to do my skin graft. I’d like to see them try and worm their way out of that one…

She then asked how much John was bringing home in wages each month. I told her. While she was pressing a few buttons into her calculator, I asked would we had been eligible for a grant if we had less than £6k in savings.
“No”, she replied, looking at her calculator, “you’re over the limit”.
“What limit”, I asked.
“The limit for what the council says is enough to live on”.
“And that is”, I enquired.
“£150”, she replied.
“That’s a week”.
“No”, she said, “a month”.
“£150 a month to live on”, I stressed.
“Yes”, she replied, “that’s what the council says you can easily live on. Anyone bringing in more than that a month is refused the grant”.

I stared at her open mouthed.
“If you are marginally over the limit”, she said, “we then take into consideration your outgoings. However that doesn’t apply in your case so there would be no point”.

Even those who earn the minimum wage bring in more than £150 per month.

You couldn’t make it up !!!!!!!

Power to the people

Wednesday 26th May 2010

I had a phone call from Shirley from the hospital complaints department.

“Have you got a pen”, she asked, “as I’ve got new appointment date for you”.
“Fire away”, I replied.
“It’s the 1st July, at 8.30am. Is that ok for you”.
“That’s fine”, I said

I was a bit annoyed that nothing was mentioned about why I had been put back on the waiting list or even given an apology for been given the wrong information.

However I was happy with the result.

The Patient from Hell 2 – the NHS 0

You can not be serious

Tuesday 25th May 2010

Yesterday I received a letter from the hospital to say that my appointment to see a consultant about my back on the 15th July had been cancelled, but they had given me an alternative date and time of 22nd June at 2.20pm.

As I would have preferred a morning appointment I rang the clinic earlier today and asked if there were any available.

“I’ve cancelled your June appointment”, said the receptionist, as I could hear her typing away on her computer, “the next available appointment I have is 27th July at 2.20pm”.
“I would prefer a morning appointment”, I repeated to her, “the July one was early morning, do you have any thing like that”.

She tapped away on her keyboard, “There isn’t any morning clinic’s for that consultant”, she said.
“Ok, no problem”, I said, “can I have the June appointment back”.
“No”, she replied.
“Why not”, I asked, “as you’ve just cancelled it a minute ago”.

“Because you are a new patient for that consultant”, she said, “and have refused the appointment in June, you’re going to have to go back on his waiting list”.
I knew it would be pointless arguing with her so asked, “when will I get another appointment”.
“When you get to the front of queue again. An appointment time will then be sent to you”.

To say I was not happy was an understatement !!!! The Patient from Hell was going to make an appearance.

I went straight onto the internet and found telephone number for the hospitals complaints department.

“Hello, hospital complaints. Shirley speaking. How may I help”.
I explained what had happened, “I think it’s extremely unfair to be put back on the waiting list when it was them who cancelled my appointment in the first place.

I also pointed out that it was a bit rich to put in the letter that if the new appointment time wasn’t convenient, I had to let them know and they would arrange a new one.

Shirley agreed and said she would look into it and get back to me in the next couple of days.

The Patient from Hell 1 – The NHS 0 ….

The return of the OT

Tuesday 18th May 2010

The OT and the surveyor called that afternoon. The surveyor had a good look at both the front and the bath of our house.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do at the front of the house”, he said, “the bay window is in the way. However we can easily put a ramp out the back”.

I would have preferred access at the front, however beggars can’t be choosers….

Another visit from the OT

Monday 26th April 2010

The OT called back that evening to show the bath lift which he thought might help me get in and out of the bath.

“It’s a deluxe model”, he said, “as it has a back rest which reclines. I thought it would benefit your back”.

He showed John how it worked then asked if I could try it and get in the bath.
“Much better than having to be heaved out”, he commented, as I finished demonstrating it.

“I’ll place an order for one tomorrow”, he said, “however it won’t be processed until the surveyor has been out. I’m afraid that’s how things work”.

As he couldn’t give me a date when the surveyor would be coming, it looked like I was in for a long wait for my bath lift….

Visit from the OT

Friday 23rd April 2010

I had a visit from an Occupational Therapist that morning.

When I was in hospital a referral was sent to Social Services for an OT to come and assess me at home. They had only just got round to dealing with it now…

The OT had requested that both John and myself were at home when he called, as he wanted to see how we managed with our day-to-day lives, seeing as John was now my ‘official carer’.

He hadn’t been in the house very long before he started to get on my nerves. He kept fussing over me which is something I really hate – “are you ok”, “take your time, there’s no rush”, “have a breather as you must be worn out”. He didn’t know how close he came to having his lights punched out !!!!

He asked if I could show him how I managed the stair lift.
“You must wear the seat belt at all times”, he told me.
“Why”, I asked.
“In case you faint while going up the stairs”.
“Thanks for that”, I replied, “I note your concern but no action will be taken…”.
“I can see you’re a very headstrong and independent person”, he said.
“Yep”, I replied.

He then asked if I could show him how I got in and out of the bath, which was to slide in, then on the count of three, John helped to heave me out. He shook his head.
“That’s putting too much pressure on your back”, he said to John, “we can’t have that”.
“How else am I supposed to get in the bath”, I said, “it’s either that or smell !!”.
“Mmmm”, he pondered, “I think I might be able to get you a bath lift”.

After showing him how I got in and out of the bed, he then wanted to see how I got in and out of the front and back doors. He shook his head again.
“That’s far too dangerous”, he said, as he watched John lifting my left leg onto the door step.
“Again, how else am I supposed to get out”, I replied, “I’m not going to be stuck in the house seven days a week”.
“I’ll arrange for a surveyor to come and see if a ramp can be built at the front and back”, he said, “that will allow you to get outside”.

It had taken a while but it looked like things were finally moving so I could have a bit of my independency back. Yippee !!!!

Optimistic

Monday 29th March 2010

Another visit to see Kermit and as usual he was running late. The notice board in the waiting room said ‘45 minutes delay’ but it was actually an hour and a half….

“Hi there”, he said, “how’re doing”.
“My back is still giving me grief”, I replied.
He asked how I was getting on with the painkillers.
“I think the best thing I can do is to refer you to see a back consultant”, he said.

“Now, about your hip”, he continued, looking through my notes, “I received a letter from the plastic surgeon. Unfortunately I haven’t got it with me but from what I remember of it, it was quite a rambling letter.
He said that he couldn’t do the skin graft. However in his final paragraph he said that if I wanted to do the hip replacement, he would perform the skin graft”.

“I’m not happy about his letter”, he added, “so I really do need to speak to him.”.

He folded his arms, “the problem I have is, without a skin graft, I’m not able to put in a new hip. Because the infection did so much damage to the skin on your hip, there’s not a lot of good stuff left for me to use.
I was able to nip everything up using the damaged skin once the hip was removed, but once I put in a new hip, the skin will have to be stretched because of the length of the hip joint and the damage skin just won’t do that.
I don’t want to be in the position I was a couple of years ago when I put a new hip into a patient and there wasn’t enough good skin to nip it together”.
“There was a lot of pulling and heaving to get it closed”, he smiled.

“What it boils down to is no graft equals no hip”, I said.
“I’m afraid so”, he replied, “I’m really sorry I can’t be more optimistic and give you better news”.
“Let’s leave it for six months”, he said, “that’ll give me time to have a good chat with the plastic surgeon and also give you time to get your back looked at”.

While I was waiting for John to come and pick me up I pondered on the words ‘no graft equals no hip’.

The prospect of being on crutches, in a wheelchair when I go outside, not being able to do very much for myself and to have to rely on others for the rest of my life, was a very sobering thought.

For a fleeting moment sobbing my heart out did cross my mind. However what good would that do. No amount of tears, feeling sorry for myself, or people’s sympathy, would change things.

So I took a deep breath and put a smile on my face….

The mother of all wee-wee disasters

Monday 22nd March 2010

I had been putting off going to the loo for a while. I knew I shouldn’t do it but my back wasn’t so good so I wanted to do as little movement as possible.

The phone rang and it was Mike who I hadn’t heard from for a while. As he had taken time out to ring and find out how I was getting on, I didn’t want to abruptly end the call by saying I needed the loo.

Forty minutes later and the call was finished. By this time I was bursting for the loo and kept shouting at the stair lift to ‘HURRY UP !!!!!

I got half way into the bathroom when I could hold on no longer. It was coming whether I was ready or not…

As my jogger bottoms and knickers were already soaked, it seen pointless to drop them, so I just plonked myself down on the loo seat fully clothed and let it happen.

Will I learn my lesson and not wait until the very last minute – I doubt it !!!!

Doctor, doctor

Wednesday 24th February 2010

The strong painkillers that Kermit prescribed for me weren’t really doing very much. I could either suffer or get something even stronger from my GP. However getting to my GP’s surgery wasn’t going to be easy.

Their opening hours didn’t fit in with John’s work times and I really didn’t want him to take yet another half day just for a doctors appointment.

Having explained my predicament to one of the doctors receptionist, she offered to have a word with my GP to see if she could either just prescribe something or do a consultation over the phone.

Just after 5pm the phone went and it was my GP. As it was the first time she’d spoken to me since I was admitted to hospital, she asked how I was getting on. I then explained about my back.

“The painkillers you’re on at the moment are one of the best around for back pain”, she said, “so I think you should stay with them. I’ll prescribe another painkiller from the same family as what you’re taking now. This one is a slow releasing painkiller, used in conjunction with the other one”.
“See how you get on with them over the weekend”, she continued, “and I’ll give you a ring on Monday.

No difference

Tuesday 16th February 2010

As per the pharmacist instructions, I took the new painkillers half an hour before I got up to gain the maximum effect. It made no difference. The pain was still excruciating !!!

I was really tempted to go back to bed after John had gone to work and cry my eyes out. However non-stop tears and making myself miserable wouldn’t make the pain go away so decided just to get on with it.

When the pain was really bad, I would either pant like what pregnant women do when they are in labour do, or sing.

The only probably with singing was it sounded a bit like this ‘I’lllllllllllllll build a stttttttttttairrrrrrrrrrrrway to parrrrrrradddddddddddddddisssssssssssssse, with a newwwwwwwwwwwwwwww steppppppppppppppp every dayyyyyyyyyyyy’.

Visiting Kermit again

Monday 15th February 2010

Saw Kermit that afternoon. Once again the car parking at the hospital was horrendous so John dropped me off outside the orthopaedic clinic.

While John was unloading Wizzy (my wheelchair), I noticed Mr Buchanan, who had been my orthopaedic consultant until his retirement a couple of years ago, walking towards the car.
“Hello there”, he said, “lovely to see you again”.
“You too”, I replied, “how are you enjoying your retirement”.
“Fine thanks. I still do a bit of consultant work to keep me busy”, he said.
He then noticed Wizzy, “what’s the matter”, he asked.
“I got an infection in my hip replacement and had to have it removed. So I’m hipless at the moment”.
“I have to confess I did know”, he replied, “Steve (Kermit) contacted me a couple of months ago wanting to discuss your case with me”.
He then wished me well and hoped I got a new hip soon.

Once again Kermit was running a little late – only fifty minutes this time….
“Hi there”, he said, coming into the consulting room and sitting down on the examination bed, “how’re doing”.
“I was fine until Monday”, I replied, “the problem I had in hospital with my back has returned”.
He looked through my notes, “I’m afraid you’re always now going to have a weakness with your back. The only cure is surgery. I think that’s not something either of us wants at the moment”.

He prescribed me stronger painkillers and hoped, like the last time, that it would settle down of it’s own accord.
“So how did you get on with the plastic surgeon”, he asked.
“To be honest I wasn’t impressed with him”, I said, “I got the impression that he wasn’t willing to do the skin graft and he said that the muscle transplant wasn’t possible”.
“Did he now !!!”, replied Kermit, “I value his opinion, but…..”

It was not wise to upset Kermit so I wouldn’t want to be in the plastic man’s shoes when he next speaks to him !!!!

“I’d like to see you again in a months time”, he said, “hopefully by then your back will have settled down and I’ll have received the notes from the plastic surgeon”.

Five minutes after I had handed in my prescription script at the hospital’s pharmacy department, one of the pharmacists came out to see me.
“There’s a slight problem with your prescription”, she said, “so I need to have a word with your consultant”.
Thirty five minutes later and she returned, “it’s fine now”, she said to me.
A couple of minutes later she called out my name.
“As they are a class B controlled drug I need to see some form of identification before I hand over your painkillers”, she asked.
“No problem”, I said, showing her my drivers licence which I always keep in my purse.
“That’s excellent”, she replied, “now I need you to sigh here….. and here… and here….and here….and finally here”.

All this for one small box of painkillers !!!!

It’s back

Friday February 12th 2010

The problem I had in hospital with my back had reappeared. It started on Monday and ever since then the pain had been unbearable.

The pain started at the base of my spine then travelled down my legs to my calves. The slightest bit of movement set it off so I was in agony all the time.

First thing on a morning the pain was excruciating so John not only had to help me get out of bed but help me walk as well. It used to take me 20 minutes just to get up and move a few steps.

The pain was so bad that it reduced me to tears on several occasions. I could have quite easily not got up on a morning but stayed in bed. However it hurt when I was in bed as well !!!

The plastic man again

Monday 8th February 2010

I had an appointment to see the Plastic Surgeon that afternoon. As usual we couldn’t get parked at the hospital. John dropped me off then went back home to wait for a phone call from me to say I was finished.

When I got to the waiting area I handed my appointment card to an auxiliary nurse.
“Can you walk over to the scales as I need to weigh you”, she asked.
I stared at her, “I’m in a wheelchair”, I replied.
“It doesn’t matter”, she huffed…

Another auxiliary nurse then called out my name and insisted on pushing me into the consulting room.

A couple of minutes later the plastic man arrived.
“I’m Mr Erdman”, he said, “what do you want”.
“Err”, I replied, quite taken aback at his comment, “Mr Green referred me to see you”.
“You want a new hip, I take it”, he said rather abruptly.
“It would be nice”, I said.

He flicked through my notes, “I no nothing about you”, he said, “so you’ll have to fill me in with all the details”.
I thought this was rather strange as Kermit had said they had had several lengthy phone call chats regarding me, however I briefly gave him my medical history.

He took a look at my hip then muttered to himself.

“The ankles and the hips are the worst places to do skin grafts”, he said, “as there’s no decent blood supply”.
“Ok”, I said, “but is it still possible”.
“Anything’s possible”, he snapped.
“What about the muscle transplant that Mr Green has said I would need to hold the hip in place”.
“Can’t be done”, he spat, “once it’s gone, it’s gone”.
“That wasn’t the impression I got from Mr Green when I was in hospital”, I commented, “if my wound hadn’t stopped leaking, I was to have a muscle transplant to mop up the surplus fluid”.
“I don’t know anything about that”, he said.
“That’s not what Kermit or your underling had said when I was in hospital”, I thought….

I left the consulting room with the impression that he wasn’t in the least bit interested in me and that he had no intention of doing the muscle transplant and skin graft.

I would be interested to see what he actually wrote in my notes to Kermit….

Feeling guilty

Friday 29th January 2010

It was my mam’s birthday today. Normally I would have taken her to the Chinese restaurant for a birthday meal but I couldn’t this year. I was a bit frustrated about that.

It didn’t help that my mam said she wished I was able to drive so we could go out somewhere. I think she was really missing me taking her shopping, to the DIY stores, the Metro Centre etc.

I knew it wasn’t my fault but I felt really guilty, especially not being able to take her grocery shopping.

Snow, snow, snow

Thursday 7th January 2010

John had to go to shopping at Morrison’s on his own as the snow was too dangerous for me to go out.

I hadn’t been out since December 30th. Thankfully it didn’t bother me…

Goodbye 2009

New Years Eve 2009

Pre-hip problems, we had planned to have a new years eve party.

However post-hip problems we decided it would be best to postpone it.

It would have been lovely to have friends over, especially as I really wanted to say goodbye to this horrible year, but I knew it wasn’t practical.

We said good riddance to 2009 and hello 2010 with a bottle of fizzy.

I was hoping 2010 will be better than last year. Knowing my luck however !!!!

All I want for Christmas is a good nights sleep

Boxing day 2009

We had a nice lazy Boxing day where we hardly did a thing. I was really pleased about that as I was pretty tired.

I hadn’t been sleeping well for a while, due of my hip and my on-going pains, so decided to up my night time painkillers to five a night. The only down side was they would make me tired during the day – it was one of their side effects.

I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. All I wanted was a good nights sleep….

Hippy Christmas

Christmas Day 2009

I was determined my hip wasn’t going to spoil Christmas day. So rather than moan and complain that I couldn’t do anything, which I had been doing for a while, I simply got on with it.

One of my surprise presents from John was a MP4 player. This would come in very handy when I next go into hospital as I would be able to watch some of my DVD’s.

While John went to collect my mam (it was our turn to have her this year), I tried to make a start on preparing the lunch.

Mam had been banished to a chair in the corner of the kitchen as John and myself (well mainly John) made lunch. She would have just taken over otherwise...

Mary rang that evening so we had a lovely Christmas chat.

I went to bed a happy and contented person. I’d had a great day and hardly gave my hip a second thought.

Lack of seasonal cheer

Christmas Eve 2009

Usually we go visit my mam’s and godparents on Christmas Eve afternoon to deliver our presents. Not this year though.

I couldn’t get up and down steps so I had to remain in the car while John dropped them all off at my mam’s. Again I felt very much like a spare part…

Even though the tree and decorations had been up since 12th December and I had been playing my Christmas music’s since 1st December, I still wasn’t really in the Christmas spirit. I blamed being stuck in hospital for eight weeks and having the threat of still being in there during Christmas, for my lack of seasonal joy.

Once the presents were put under the tree and the special Christmas eve bottle of fizzy opened, I began to feel in the festive mood.

Unhappy Christmas tree

Saturday 12th December 2009

Today we were putting up the Christmas tree and decorations.

Normally I love putting them up but this year I felt like a spare part. I could hardly do anything so John put most of them up himself.

I hate being like this….

Decision day

Monday 15th December 2009

I had an appointment to see Kermit that afternoon, where I would have to give him my decision regarding the future of my hip.

John had to take a half day off work as there was no way I could get to the hospital on my own. Felt very guilty about him having to use his annual leave like this. As usual we couldn’t get parked so John dropped me off, then went home to wait for me ringing him.

When I arrived at ‘waiting area two’ there was a message saying that Kermit was running 45 minutes late - turned out to be two hours…

Shortly before I was due to see him I needed the loo desperately, so asked an auxiliary nurse where the disabled loos were, and could she make Kermit aware of where I had gone, in case my name was called.

It was my first time using a disabled loo, and you could tell who ever designed them wasn’t in a wheelchair !!!! Whilst I was in the loo I rang John to let him know that I was running a little later than planned.

I finally got to see Kermit at 4.38pm. He explained that he had had a chat with the plastic surgeon regarding my hip.
“That’s good”, I said, “as I’ve decided I’d like a new hip. That is if you’re willing to do it”.
“Oh yes”, he said, getting excited, “I really do love complex cases and yours will be in the top 10 of complicated”.
“That’s not to say I’m not capable of doing it”, he stressed, “it’s just that with you, there’s a lot more going on than with an ordinary hip replacement patient”.
“I’d like to see you again in two months”, he continued, “by which time an appointment could have come through for you to see the plastic surgeon”.

He then moved onto the subject of the infection. Looking through my notes, he said, “it is coming down, but not as quickly as I would have liked. I’d like you to have another blood test today. If the count is coming down, that great. If not, then I’d like to bring you back in to hospital so we can do more tests”.
“What kind of tests”, I said, not relishing the idea of going back into hospital.
“It’s nothing to worry about”, he replied, trying to reassure me, “we’ll take some fluid from your hip cavity. Test to see what germs are there, then give you antibiotics”.

I would be keeping my fingers firmly crossed that I didn’t have to go back into hospital.
“Have a great Christmas and I’ll see you in two months”, he said.

By the time I got to the nurses dressing room it was after five o’clock.
“Come in”, said the nurse, “what can I do for you”.
“Blood test”, I replied, handing her the slip that Kermit had given me, “I must warn you that I don’t have very good veins”.
The nurse looked at my arms, “I see what you mean”, she said, pressing to find a vein.
She then looked at the clock., “I haven’t got time to mess around finding a suitable vein”, she said, “I’m taking my granddaughter to the pantomime tonight after work and you’ll make me late. I’ll get someone else to do it”.
Charming !!

She went off to find another nurse, who on looking at my veins, said she wasn’t going to do it either.

“Thanks a lot”, I said, “what am I, a leper or something”.

Another nurse who was willing to take some blood from me was eventually found.
“You’re brave”, I said to her, “everyone else seems to be avoiding me”.
She smiled, “I’m used to problem veins”.
She had a look at my arms, “all it requires is a small needle”, she said, “I don’t know what all the fuss was about”.

Neither did I…

Frustrating

Monday 23rd November 2009

Now that I was trying to be as mobile as I could, I was starting to get more and more frustrated.

Everything now takes longer to do. Something as simple as getting up from the sofa would takes a few minutes to do, whereas before it would have been seconds.

My shoulders, arms and hands ached with having to use the crutches and my arms were covered in bruises from the crutches.

As I needed to use both hands to walk or stand, I wasn’t able to carry even the simplest of things like an onion or a can of coke. Thank goodness for pockets !!!!

I felt really guilty having to ask John to do lots of things for me because I couldn’t. I knew he didn’t mind but I did.

Not being able to do anything really made me think that the option of major hip surgery was the only way to go.

Bathing delight

Sunday 22nd November 2009

Since June I hadn’t been able to have a bath because of my pressure sore. Now that it wasn’t an issue any more, and I didn’t have a new hip to worry about, I had my first bath in months. It was wonderful !!!!

I had tried showering. I even bought a brand new shower stool from Ebay, but the shower curtain kept getting in the way. When it sticks to your skin, it’s icy cold !!!!

Using my new stool, I’d sit next to the bath while John would lift my legs, then I would slide into the bath. To get out, it was on the count of three and John would heave me onto the bath ledge. I would then wiggle onto the stool and John would lift my legs out of the bath.

A loss of dignity, perhaps, but that went out of the window ages ago….

Things you notice

Saturday 21st November 2009

There were several things I noticed whilst being in a wheelchair:

Pedestrians/shoppers don’t see you so they walk into the wheelchair or you have to get out of their way pretty quick.

Because of cars who parked part on the road and part on the pavement, it was either extremely tight manoeuvring past or we had to take to the road because we couldn’t fit through the small gap. I was thinking of getting a device fitted to the wheels, which when I pressed a button, metal spikes would come out and scratch the side of the cars as I went past them…

Foot paths were in a terrible condition. The flagstones were so uneven so the ride was extremely bumpy.

Not all shops in our local high street were wheelchair accessible. There was one shop which had a huge step to get inside. Wheelchair uses were advised to press a bell to gain the assistance attention – the bell was over six feet off the ground !!!!

First day on my own

Wednesday 18th November 2009

John had to go back to work today so I was on my own for the first time since coming out of hospital.

Our normal breakfast routine had to change as I wasn’t now able to do very much. Instead of me getting breakfast ready for John like I used to, it was now a joint effort.

Unless I drank them in the cold kitchen, drinks throughout the day weren’t possible as I couldn’t carry them. So we bought a large flask, a container to keep milk in and a small table, and put them next to the sofa. I now had a little picnic table….

Because I couldn’t use my hands to carry anything, my dad’s old rucksack was ideal to put things in, then strap it to my back. Perfect !!

Another big step

Tuesday 17th November 2009

I decided to try walking with my crutches again, but this time wearing shoes instead of slippers.

John suggested I should try and get out of the front door. It took a little time, and had to have help from John, but I managed it.

Still haven’t come to a decision yet about the two options Kermit gave me yesterday. Both options had their good and bad points. I thought it was best just to put it out of my mind for the time being.

Visit to see Kermit

Monday 16th November 2009

I had an appointment to see Kermit that morning at the hospital. It would be the first time I had seen him since I was discharged from hospital.

As John couldn’t find a car park space (no surprises there…) he dropped me off then went home to wait for a phone call from me saying I was ready to be collected.

While I was waiting in the long queue at the reception desk, a man behind me started to rest his arms on the handles of my wheelchair. Then every time the queue started to move he insisted on pushing me. No amount of ‘I’m fine thanks’, would stop him from doing it. I was not amused…

When my name was called a nurse took me to one side and quietly asked, “is your wound dry”.
“Yes”, I replied.
“Good”, she said, “please go to waiting area two”.

“Hello”, said Kermit, “you are looking much better. I’m really pleased about that”.
“That’s what proper food does to you”, I replied.
He asked how I had been managing at home.
“Fine thanks”, I said, “I’m even walking a little using crutches”.

He had a look and a prod at my wound, “I’m pleased with that”, he said, “the area is soft and not hard, so there isn’t a build up of fluid”.
“So”, he said, sitting back down on the examination table, “lets talk about the future, shall we.
There are two options. Do nothing or put a new hip in. Doing nothing is the easy option, though it would mean that you remain as you are now, in a wheelchair, and on crutches. You’ve gone through a considerable amount recently. Do you want to put yourself through yet more trips to the woodshed”.
I smiled, “Ok. I can see where you’re coming from. Option two”.
“Option two”, he continued, “would mean two lots of major surgery. At least five hours for me to put in a new hip and at least five hours for plastics to do a muscle transplant and a skin graft”.

I knew that there were problems and risks in putting in subsequent hip replacements so asked Kermit for his advice.
“There will be about a 60% chance of successfully putting in a new hip. However it’ll be a tough 100% challenge for me”.
“Don’t get me wrong”, he stressed, “I love doing complex operations. The harder, the better. There is no rush in making your decision. I want you to have a good think about both options and we’ll see you in a months time”.

Sadly I wasn’t finished with the hospital yet as I needed to have a blood test to check the infection levels. While I waited nearly two hours to have the blood test done, I had a chat with a couple of people I knew from my stay in hospital – Dr Richard, Marilyn, an auxiliary nurse from Ward 43 and Michael, the patient from ward 44 who had had his leg amputated.

After I eventually had my blood test, John collected me and we went to the Metro Centre.

Dignity, always dignity

Saturday 14th November 2009

I had a major loss of dignity that night. I needed the loo pretty badly. The stair lift only has one speed – extremely slow – so when you’re desperate for a wee, it seems to take an eternity to get to the top of the stairs.

The loo was only a few steps away but when you’re trying to manoeuvre a zimmer in a small space, and holding things in (so to speak….) it wasn’t that easy. Consequently I got so frustrated with not being able to move my zimmer that I ‘let go’ and wet the floor and the loo mat.

I was pretty sure that wasn’t going to be the last ‘wee wee’ disaster I had…

Floppy leg

Friday 13th November

Had another visit from the district nurse. It was Pam who also worked at my GP’s surgery and who had been treating my pressure sore.

Margaret, the district nurse who came out on Monday, had told her what had happened. She had a look at my hip and was pleased with how the redness was going down. She also had a look at the burn on my knee. There was still a little dead skin on my knee so she suggested I gently rubbed it when I’d been in the shower to remove it.

One thing which I didn’t notice when I was in hospital, was how floppy my leg was without having a hip. In bed I would ‘loose’ my leg as it would fall out of the bed and I wouldn’t notice until I came to turn over and found I couldn’t…

One small step

Wednesday 11th November

The elbow crutches I bought from eBay arrived today.

I was a little shaky using them so was glad John was on hand just in case I needed him.

It would take a couple of days before I would be confident enough to go solo with them, but I was just happy to be making some improvement.

The wonders of eBay

Monday 9th November

Went to the Wessington pub for lunch. It was the first time I’d been out for something to eat since my birthday. I hope I eat a little more than I did then….

Sadly the pub had changed their menu so our usual ‘ham, eggs and chips’ wasn’t there anymore. We settled for ‘sausage, eggs and chips’, which was just as nice.

Afterwards we went to Makro and I tired out my new gloves. As I was moving around a lot more at home than I was in hospital, my hands were getting sore with gripping the zimmer frame and propelling the wheelchair. John came up with the idea of wearing cycling gloves as they had padded palms. I bought them on eBay on Friday and they arrived that morning. They worked perfectly so I ordered another couple of pairs.

Although I had been using elbow crutches in hospital, the physio’s wouldn’t give me a pair to take home with me as I hadn’t had much practice on them. A referral would be made for me to be assessed to start using them again, and I would be notified of this by post. The referral letter arrived that morning. Someone would be coming out to see me in six months time !!!

I decided to take matters into my own hands so ordered a pair of brand new crutches (even better ones than they had in hospital) on eBay for £15.

Had a phone call from Mary to say she had been discharged from hospital. Like me, she was over the moon to be home.

Sleeping for England

Saturday 7th November 2009

Had to get up during the night to go to the loo. Sadly there was no nurse to buzz for a bed pan… John got up with me to make sure I was ok getting there.

Even though I was sleeping ok, I was still extremely tired, so didn’t get up until 11.45am.

I was just changing out of my night shirt when I disparately needed to go to the loo for a number two. My IBS had returned and unfortunately it didn’t know that I wasn’t able to run to the loo. Enough said !!!

After lunch I felt like a walking zombie so went back to bed. I think the eight weeks of having no sleep had finally caught up with me.

Catching up

Friday 6th November 2009

The redness on my hip was really going down, so I was really pleased about that.

My skin was still very itchy (never did get the moisturiser that was supposed to have been prescribed to me when I was in hospital) so took some Piriton and lathered myself in loads of moisturiser that I bought from Morrisons the day before.

Margaret, one of the district nurses from our GP surgery, popped into see me. Kermit had asked that they visit me to see how my wound was getting on. The last time I saw Margaret was in the treatment room the day I was admitted into hospital so I had lots to tell her.

After lunch we went shopping for a new pair of slippers. The pair I had in hospital were stained of blood from the many times my wound had leaked on them, and I couldn’t fit into my old pair as my feet were still swollen.

As it was Friday it was wine and pizza night. Two pizzas in three days – sure beats hospital food any day !!!!

My first full day of freedom

Thursday 5th November 2009

I had my first good night sleep in weeks. It was wonderful !!!

John had started two weeks leave from work yesterday so there was no need for us to get up early. It was lovely not to be woken up at 6am…

I had my first outing ‘as a free person’ when we went shopping at Morrisons. Normally I have temper tantrums when I shop in Morrisons, but not today. I was just so glad to be out of hospital.

When we got back from Morrisons there was a message waiting on the answer machine from Mary. She was ringing to see how I was enjoying my freedom. Very much thank you !!!!

Day 57 – Yippee !!!!

Wednesday 4th November 2009

Kermit arrived just before 8am and I fully intended to become the patient from Hell. No more ‘Mrs Nice Guy’. I was well and truly fed up….

“How are you today”, he asked.
Before I had the chance to become the patient from Hell, nurse Tracey who was accompanying him said, “she’s really fed up and wants to go home”.
Kermit had a look at my hip.
“Will you be ok to cope with things at home”, he asked.
“Yes”, I practically yelled at him.
“Ok, you can go home”, he said.
“What! Today”, I asked.
“Yes”, he smiled.
If he had been within touching distance I would have given him the biggest hug he had ever had.
“Thank you”, I beamed at him.

As soon as Kermit was out of the room I phoned John to tell him the good news.
“Yippee!!!” were his first words.

I then rang my mam who burst into tears…

News of my release spread like wild fire around the ward. Mel, one of the auxiliary nurses, ran down the ward and gave me a huge hug. I went to tell Mary but she already knew because of all the fuss the nurses were making over me. Mel had arranged it so I could have breakfast in Mary’s room. Even though I was over the moon at going home, I was also sad to be leaving Mary.

No sooner had I finished my breakfast, Tracey said “you’ve got 10 minutes to pack”.
“I’m still in my nightclothes and I haven’t been washed yet”, I said.
“There’s no time for you to get washed”, she said, “we need your room. If you’re not ready in 10 minutes time, the discharge nurse will go without you”.

Instead of going to my room to pack, I went to say goodbye to Michael.
“I hear you’re going home”, he smiled.
“News travels fast”, I said, “sorry I never got a chance to chat with you yesterday, but I didn’t want to disturb you, as I gather you were in a lot of pain after your trip to the woodshed”.
Tracey was hovering outside Michael’s room.
“I’ve got to go”, I said, “take care of yourself and remember what I told you”.
“Don’t let my leg win”, he repeated.

While I got dressed, Tracey began stuffing all my belongings into carrier bags. A few minutes later the discharge nurse arrived to take me down to the ‘discharge lounge’. Tracey gave me a big huge, “good luck”, she said.
Mary and Liz the domestic cleaner were waiting outside of Mary’s room. I asked the discharge nurse if she could stop for a few moments while I said goodbye to them. All three of us were in tears as I hugged each of them goodbye.

After filling in various bits of release paperwork in the discharge lounge, I waited for John to come and collect me.

It was an unbelievable feeling of joy when I finally left the grounds of the hospital. I was so looking forward to a decent shower, a larger glass of wine – and a pizza….

Day 56 – It wasn’t fair

Tuesday 3rd November 2009

It had been nearly two days since Kermit prescribed the cortisone cream and still no cream. Why didn’t that surprise me.
Sister Clarke popped into see me during breakfast and asked if I had received it yet.
“Not yet”, I said.
“Leave it with me”, she replied.

Ran, the charge nurse who was on secondment, came into my room just before nine o’clock.
“Sister Clarke has given me this”, he said. It was my cortisone cream, “have you used this before”.
“No”, replied.
He removed my dressing then said, “make sure you put the cream all over your hip, not just on the red bits”.
“Even on my scar”, I asked.
“All over”, he said.

Later that morning Mary called in to see me. She was a little upset.
“I’ve got some bad new”, she said, “Mr Gill (her consultant) is going to London for a week so he won’t let me go home until he returns”.
Mary had been building up her hopes that she could be going home today.

As Kermit hadn’t been that morning I asked Gill, one of the auxiliary nurses, if he was due to come today. She replied she wasn’t sure but would ask Sister Clarke.
She came back about five minutes later to say that he had been on the ward but just asked if my hip was still red.

After lunch I called into see Mary to tell her that I’d finally received the cortisone cream.
“Lets have a look at your redness”, she asked.
I looked down at my hip and saw several small blisters along my scar line.
Tracey, one of the staff nurses, walked past Mary’s room so I asked if she could spare a minute to have a look at the blisters.
“They’ve just come on since I started using the cortisone cream, I said.
“Lets go to your room and I’ll have a better look”, she said.

Back in my room Tracey had a good look at the blisters.
“Don’t worry”, she said, “it’s nothing serious. The cream is too strong for your wound line”.
“Ran told me to put it all over my hip”, I said.
“Forget what Ran said”, replied Tracey, “don’t put any cream on your scar”.

The bay opposite my side room was now occupied with women and I said hello to one of them as I passed her going to the loo.
“I’m sick of this bloody place”, she moaned, “I wish I could get out of this bloody place as I’m bloody fed up”.
She, along with the rest of the women in that bay, had only been on the ward since Sunday. I really wanted to say to her ‘if you’re fed up after three days, try nearly eight weeks…’.

A little later I could hear an argument taking place outside the nurses station. It was between Ran and a woman from the ladies bay.
“I’ve got two children to look after and have to get home”, she shouted, “I could do all this (meaning her hip replacement exercises) at home and come back in a couple of days”.
Ran told her in no uncertain terms that she was not going home today.
“My husband works for Northumbria Police”, she yelled, “he has had to waste leave to look after our children. I have to get home”.

Alicia, the physio, was also been given a hard time from women from the same bay.
“Slow down”, she kept telling her, “you’ll fall”.
“I’ve got to go home”, moaned the woman, “the sooner I get myself walking, the quicker I’ll go home”.
“You’re not ready to go home”, replied Alicia, “you can hardly walk”.

Both Mary and myself were less than impressed that evening when the woman who had the argument with Ran had been allowed to go home.
“It’s because we don’t shout or make our mouth go”, complained Mary, “if we did, they’d get rid of us pretty quick”.
“I intend to become the patient from Hell tomorrow”, I said, “Kermit won’t know what hit him….”.

Day 55 – The plastic man

Monday 2nd November 2009

Around 3am I buzzed for a bed pan. The bank auxiliary nurse came into my room.
“What do you want”, she asked.
“Can I have a pan please”, I replied.
“Why do you need one”, she said, “you can walk, can’t you”.
I was not a happy bunny, “Yes I can walk, a little”, I replied, “however it’s much easier on a night time if I have a pan. You gave all the men a bottle last night, even though they can walk better than me. Why can’t I have one”.
She huffed, then went to get the bed pan – no doubt one from the freezer !!!

When the senior nightshift nurse handed over to the dayshift staff, she mentioned that Kermit had prescribed some cortisone cream for my allergy to the drainage bag. Susamma said she couldn’t understand why this was needed as the drainage bag she used was fine. Tracey agreed, and said there didn’t appear to be anything wrong with the dressing when she last looked at it. The last time they both looked at my dressing was last Monday. It had been changed several times since then…

Both myself and Mary made a complaint about the relief weekend domestic cleaner. I called her ‘speedy’ or ‘smiler’ as she wasn’t either of those things !!! Our rooms are supposed to be cleaned every day, yet all ‘speedy’ did was bring us cups of tea. Both of our rooms were filthy. The ward loos, which had to be cleaned three times a day, hadn’t been cleaned since Friday evening so they too were disgusting. The domestic services manager had a look at both our rooms, and the loos, and was appalled at the state of them. She assured us that ‘speedy’ would never work on the ward again.

Kermit called into see me and was impressed that my wound had kept dry. I asked him when the plastic man would be coming to see me.
“Has he not been”, he asked.
“No”, I said.
He was not amused.

Had a good chat with Michael, who was in side room one. He was originally in the men’s ward but they moved him into side room one that morning. He had called into see me yesterday evening, but was only there for a couple of minutes as he was called away for his IV antibiotics. Michael explained that having had severe problems with his left leg, he had just had it amputated. His wound wasn’t healing properly so he was to have a washout tomorrow.

One of the nurses had just brought me my lunch – jacket potatoes, beef burger, without a bun, and tin spaghetti (yes, it was revolting….) – when there was a knock at my door.
“Mrs Harper”, said the man.
“Yes”, I replied.
He held out his hand, “I’m the registrar plastic surgeon. Pleased to meet you”.
He noticed I was having lunch, “I can see I’m disturbing your lunch so I’ll come back a little later”.
“No”, I said, “please stay”.
“Ok, but on one condition”, he replied, “that you continue eating your lunch”.
I looked down at my place, “that might be easier said than done…”, I said.

He apologised for no one coming to see me on Friday. The referral which Kermit had sent had got lost. It would seem that Kermit had words with them as soon as he had seen me that morning.

We had a long chat. He wasn’t convinced that the redness on my hip was caused by an allergy. He thought it was due to a build up of fluid in the hip cavity.

“That’s not what I wanted to hear”, I said, “how come though, as soon as the bag was removed, the redness went down. Plus when the skin is pressed it’s not solid”.
He couldn’t explain why but he was sticking to his fluid theory.
I asked him about Kermit’s plan to have some muscle put into the hip cavity.
“You’ve been through such a lot these past seven weeks”, he said, “you don’t need any more surgery at the moment. Let Mother Nature do what she does best and heal your wound”.
“Happy with that”, I smiled.

When I was in Mary’s room, Sister Clarke came looking for me.
“What did plastics say”, she asked, “as he hasn’t written anything in your notes – which he’s supposed to – and Mr Green wants to know”.
I told her what he had said.

Had a long chat with Michael after evening visitors had left as he was really worried about his washout.
“You’ll only be in the woodshed for about half an hour”, I said, trying to set his mind at rest.
He looked puzzled, “what’s the woodshed”.
“It’s what I call theatre”, I said, “as it makes it sound less clinical. I’ve even got Mr Green saying it now”.
“I like the sound of that”, replied Michael, “I think I’ll use it. Where did you get the name woodshed from”.
“I heard it mentioned once on Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, I said, “the mayor said if he caught any vampires feeding against his wishes, he would take them down to the woodshed. It sort of fitted theatre perfectly”.

Day 54 – I can’t believe it’s November

Sunday 1st November 2009

When I first arrived in hospital I made out a calendar for September and October as it was so easy to forget what day of the week it was, as all days were exactly the same. I never thought I would be doing one for November…

My mam was her usual cheery self today (I was being sarcastic !!). I was in Mary’s room when she arrived.
“Let’s have a look at your hip”, she asked, “oh, it’s much redder than Friday”.
“Of course it’s not”, said Mary, “can’t you see it’s gone down”.
Then later she asked to see it again, “it’s spreading past the line”, she said.
I looked but it seemed the same to me. However I became very paranoid so kept asking John and Mary all night what they thought. “It’s fine”, they both kept repeating over and over again….

Then to finish the morale boosting my mam said ‘Denise rang last night and asked if you were in a better mood than you were on Tuesday”. Thanks !!!!!!

Nurse Anna came into my room and mentioned that Kermit had telephoned the ward to say he was popping in to see some of his patients today, even though he was still on holiday. She said she would ask if he could come and see me.

Shortly after my mam had left, I saw Kermit go into the man’s bay opposite my room. Anna, who was accompanying him, practically grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into my room. She explained about the redness on my hip.
He took a look at my hip, “that’s nothing to worry about”, he said, “I know for a fact it’s not infection as there wasn’t any in the wound when we did the last washout”.
Anna mentioned about the allergy theory and he was happy with that.
“I’ll prescribe some cortisone cream”, he said, “that should clear it up”.
He asked if there had been any more leaking. I replied that it had been dry since Friday afternoon. He was really pleased with that.
“Fingers crossed”, he said, “as long as it remains dry for another three or four days and the physio’s are happy, then you can go home”.
As Kermit left the room, Anna raised her thumbs and smiled.

I should have been jumping up and down for joy at the news that I could go home, but I wasn’t. I had been here before so wasn’t building up my hopes.

I went to see Mary and told her what Kermit had said. She got a little upset as she said she wanted to go home too.
“Hey! I’m not there yet”, I said, “Luck isn’t on my side so anything can happen”.

When nurse Tracey did the nightshift handover she said, “No one in bay 1. Side room two – Marie. Nothing to report. Side room three – Mary. Poor Mary, bless her. She’s really fed up and wants to go home”.

Excuse me !!!! I had been in hospital two weeks longer than Mary. If anyone was fed up, it was me as I had seniority….

Day 53 – My theory was correct

Saturday 31st October 2009

It looked like my theory about the dressing was correct.

There was just a tiny bit of fiery red where the actually dressing had been, but the rest of my hip, which yesterday had looked like I had been severely scaled, was now a pale red.

It also hadn’t spread past the pen mark which was also good news.

Nurse Anna checked my dressing and was really pleased that the redness had gone down.
“It looks like you were allergic to the dressing”, she said.

It didn’t come as any surprise that the moisturiser that the doctor has prescribed for me yesterday hadn’t arrived, and that no one from Kermit’s team came to check up on my hip…

Day 52 – A bright red hip

Friday 30th October 2009

My wound has been leaking quite a bit again, so the drainage bag, which was changed just after lunch yesterday, was very full. My hip where the drainage bag was, had become very red so mentioned it to one of the nurses this morning. She didn’t seem that bothered…

There was a secondment charge nurse on the ward so he was shadowing both Norma and Maureen, the auxiliary nurse. I heard Norma say to him that both Mary’s and my dressings didn’t need changing - my draining bag was now full to the point of overflowing.

I was standing just outside my room, waiting for Maureen to get me a clean hospital dressing gown, when Terriseta, who had just started her afternoon shift and was being briefed by Sister Clarke, noticed my bag.
“Marie”, she gasped, “that bag needs changing”.
“I know”, I replied, “but Norma said it didn’t need too”.
She told me to go back into my room and she’d change it as soon as Sister had finished de-briefing her.

Good to her word, Terriseta came back about five minutes later with another bag.
“Your hip is very red”, she said, as she removed the old bag.
“I noticed it this morning”, I replied, “I did mention it to one of the nurses, but…”
She smiled, “I’ll have another look at it later tonight”.
“I know you’ve just come on duty”, I asked, “but do you know when the plastic surgeon will be coming. I was told he would be around today”.
“He usually comes in the morning”, she replied.
“Don’t worry”, she said, trying to reassure me, “if his surgery has run late he has been known to come on the afternoon”.

Doctor Richard called just before afternoon visiting and he was very sheepish. It looked like Sister Clarke had had words with him. He asked me how my wound was doing so I showed him.
“It’s still leaking”, I said.
He nodded. “Mr Green was furious with you”, he replied.
“Me !!”, I exclaimed, “what I have done”.
“Not actually with you, yourself”, he said, “more with your body. He’s not happy that your wound is still oozing”.
“He’s not happy !!”, I replied, “neither am I….”.
“Mr Green is a perfectionist and when something doesn’t go right, he considers it as a failure on his part and takes it personally”.
“I’m on holiday from tonight for 10 days”, he continued, “so I doubt I’ll see you again as you’ll have either gone home - fingers crossed, or you’ll have been transferred to Durham. I hope everything goes well for you”.

When my mam arrived for afternoon visiting she handed me a carrier bag.
“What’s this”, I asked.
“A new dressing gown”, she answered, “I called into Newcastle and bought you one”.
“Thanks, but I don’t need another one”, I replied.
“You can’t use that one”, she said, pointing to the dressing gown that was hanging at the back of my chair, “as you say it’s too heavy for you. So I’ve bought you a lightweight one”.
“I really am happy just using the hospital gowns, especially as I keep leaking on them”.
I could tell by my mam’s face that she wasn’t amused. Whilst I was content to use the hospital gowns, I knew my mam wasn’t, and knowing her, it was going to be easier all round if I just accept it, rather than have an argument.
“Ok, thanks”, I said, “it’s lovely”.
Her face brightened up considerably, “I knew you’d like it”, she said…

Andrew, the microbiologist, popped his head around the door so I introduced him to my mam.
“There’s a slight abnormality with your liver”, he announced, “but that’s normal, given the strong antibiotics you are taken”.
“Is it serious”, I asked.
He shook his head, “It’s nothing to worry about”, he said, trying to reassure us, “the liver is very good a mending itself”.
He asked what the latest developments were regarding my hip so I explained about the muscle transplant.
“I’ve also developed a redness around my hip”, I told him.
He asked if he could have a look at it.
“Have you made anyone aware of this”, he asked.
“Yes”, I replied, “but no one seemed to be that interested”.
“Would you mind if I asked a doctor to take a look”.
He came back a couple of minutes later with a lady doctor and gave her a brief history of what had happened to my hip.
“I’ve seen your face before”, she asked, “were you in ward 43”.
“Yes”, I replied.
“I thought I recognised you. I saw you a couple of times when Mr Green did his rounds. You look much better now than you did then”, she commented.
She had a good look and prod around my hip.
“The area is slightly warm. Are you in any pain or discomfort”, she asked.
“No”, I replied, “I’m really itchy, all over, but I don’t think that has anything to do with the redness”.
She pressed the wound area again and announced that there didn’t seem be a build-up for fluid inside it, which was good news.
“I’d rather not change your antibiotics”, said Andrew, “unless I really have to".
He looked at his watch.
“I’ve got to dash”, he said, “I’m not on call this weekend, but one of my colleagues is. If there’s any problem let him know”.
The lady doctor took out a marker pen and drew around the edge of the redness.
“That’s to see if it spreads”, she said, “we’ll keep an eye on it over the weekend so I’ll get one of Mr Green’s team to have a look at it tomorrow”.
She continued, “you mentioned about being itchy. Whereabouts”.
“Mainly my back and my arms”, I said, “I think it’s because my skin is so dry”.
“I’ll prescribe you some moisturiser. Don’t get your hopes up, it’s not anything fancy”, she smiled, “that should ease it. If not I’ll prescribe some piriton”.

There was still no sign of the ‘plastic man’ so I asked nurse Tracey if she had any idea when he would be arriving. She looked at her watch.
“It’s 4pm now”, she said, “he usually works until 5pm, then sometimes calls to see patients after his surgery finishes, so there’s still time”.

At 6pm there was still no sign of the ‘plastic man’. I was not impressed… Woe betide if I had to remain in hospital purely just to see him next Friday!!!!

Whilst John was visiting Terriseta came and asked how the redness on my hip was. I explained about Andrew getting the doctor to have a look at it.
“I’ve been thinking”, I said, “the redness only appeared after I had this type of dressing on. Could I be allergic to it”.
“I never thought of that”, she replied, “are you usually allergic to dressings”.
“Not that I was aware”, I answered, “but I haven’t had that particular type of draining dressing on before”.

Terriseta changed the dressing bag to a completely different kind.
“We’ll see if your theory is right”, she said.

Day 51 – Seven long weeks

Thursday 29th October 2009

Seven weeks !!!! It had been a LONG seven weeks and I hoped I would be home in another seven weeks. However I was beginning to doubt it.

I was sick and tired of everyone saying I had to be positive. How could I be positive, when seven weeks down the line, I was still here. I was going to punch the next person who said ‘be positive’ !!!! It was easy for them to say that as they hadn’t been stuck in hospital for seven weeks.

Kermit had mentioned that the plastic surgeon would be popping over to see me today. I really wished he would hurry up, as there had been enough time wasted with one thing and another, so now I just want to get things moving.

The only thing I could see that was keeping me in hospital was my leaking. I had finished taking the IV antibiotics, my blood level was fine so didn’t need another transfusion, so why couldn’t they just let me go home. Even if it was just the weekend.

Whenever anyone asked if I would like John or my mam to take me down to the little coffee shop in the hospital, I had always refused. I didn’t think I could handle seeing people leaving the hospital, knowing that I couldn’t. Now I really did need a break from hospital life.

I was hoping the lady vicar wouldn’t come to visit today as I was not friends with ‘Him upstairs’ at the moment. The last thing I needed was to be told that ‘He was listening; He did care about me, and that I had to have Faith’.

There was a knock at the door and a man who I hadn’t seen before came into my room.
“Mrs Harper”, he asked.
“Yes”.
“I’m one of Mr Green’s senior house registrars. Mr Green is on holiday for a couple of days so I’m holding the fort”.
That was all I needed. A wet behind the ears SHR…
“Do you know if Ker – Mr Green has been in contact with the plastic surgeon yet”, I asked.
“I don’t understand”, he replied.
“Mr Green was going to arrange for the plastic surgeon, from Durham hospital, to come and see me about a muscle transplant”.
“What muscle transplant”.
“Because the infection ate it”.
“Ate what. What infection”, he asked, rather puzzled.

I let out a huge sigh. He obviously didn’t know a thing about me.
I pointed to my hip, “hip replacement in 1998; it got infected; had to have hip removed; infection ate everything; big hole where the hip and muscle used to be; wound keeps leaking; going to arrange for a plastic surgeon to do a muscle transplant”.
“Err…I’ll find out”, he replied, then couldn’t get out of my room quick enough.
I’m sure you will, I thought…

With Kermit being on holiday there was no way they would authorise for me to go home for the weekend.

BUMMER !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!