Saturday, 20 February 2010

Day 32 – Gutted !!!!!!!

Saturday 10th October 2009

Got up just after 6am as my shoulder had been really aching during the night. I had been trying to get by without taking any painkillers but needed some now.

Found out the reason why I was moved to ward 44. Liz, one of the domestics, said that I was supposed to stay on Ward 43 but they needed the bed urgently. Ward 44 didn’t normally take infection patients as it was a ‘sterile’ ward. All the patients who came into ward 44 had been screened for super bugs several weeks before they were admitted. As I was ‘unclean’ I had to be put into a side ward out of the way of other patients.

I was just drying my legs, having given them a quick wash, when I noticed my towel had a couple of spots of blood on it. I glanced down at the floor and saw a huge puddle. My wound was gushing of blood.

NO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Carmel, one of the staff nurses, was sitting at the computer on the nurses work station so I asked her if she wouldn’t mind coming into my room.
“My wound’s leaking”, I said.
“I can see that”, she replied, “you’ve got a nice puddle on the floor”.
She dash off to the dressing room to get a wheelchair, while I tried to, unsuccessfully, to stop the bleeding.

To make it easier for Carmel to remove my dressing I leant against the wheelchair. She slowly pulled the dressing away from my skin, knowing that I was sensitive there.
As soon as the dressing was off, blood gushed out of my wound. It went everywhere !!!!! My leg, my slipper, the floor…

Carmel looked at the wound to see where it was bleeding. It was coming from two of the staples at the bottom of my wound.
“I don’t think you’ll be going home on Monday”, she said.
“Don’t tell anyone”, I whispered, “I won’t tell if you won’t”.
“You’ve got 48 hours”, she said, trying to be helpful. “It might have dried up by then”.

Who was she kidding. Knowing my luck it would be another trip to the woodshed. I was so disappointed but what could I do. Crying wouldn’t make it dry up so I just had to accept it and get over it.

Had a chat with two of the men in the men’s bay opposite my side ward. I always said hello to them whenever I was passing on the way to the loo. There were only two of them in the bay and both told me they were going home that afternoon. Thanks guys, I really appreciated that…

At this rate there will only be me and Mary (side room 3) left. Knowing my luck, even Doris, who actually had died but was brought back to life, would be going home before us.

I hoped I was wrong but I had a gut feeling that I would have to have another trip to the woodshed for another washout. I was trying to stay positive but it was very hard when every thing seemed to be going against me. Someone, somewhere must be having fun putting pins in a ‘Marie’ doll….

My run of bad luck kept on coming. While I was at the loo my wound started leaking quite badly, then Joanne and Anton, the weekend physios, came to try me walking up and down steps.

Because I didn’t have a hip I couldn’t lift my leg up onto the steps. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t move it. One of the problems seemed to be that I couldn’t bend my knees as they were still very swollen. Double bummer !!!!!

I did manage to heave myself up one step, but Joanne pointed out that lifting both legs in the air and using my arms to move my body up the stairs, wasn’t a good idea….

As I was going to be stuck like this for several months, the only option I could see would be getting a stair lift installed. Joanne suggested we moved into a bungalow. If only it was a simple as that.

Sister Charlton had popped into my room to do a whirl-wind clean of my table, just before John arrived for evening visiting, and I got wrong again for ‘flashing’. I wasn’t wearing a skirt but my t-shirt was the same length as my nightshirt. I couldn’t see what the problem was. However to keep her happy, I covered my legs with my dressing gown.

She told me not to be despondent about my wound leaking as it could just be residue left from my op. I wished I could be that optimistic.

My wound was leaking again so Mel put a temporary dressing on it until Sister Charlton could see to it. Sister Charlton had just finished replacing my dressing when John arrived. I guessed he knew by what was going on that my wound had been leaking. I was so glad it broke the ice as I was really worried that I would start to cry, given what sort of a day I had had.

I explained what had happened and how I wasn’t able to climb the stairs.
“Don’t worry about it”, he said, “we’ll find a way. Nothing beats us”.
We had a chat about stair lifts and John promised to do some research on the internet.

After John had gone home I went into Mary’s room for a chat and told her about the stair lift. She suggested I had a word with Gemma, the OT, as she might be able to help.

When Sister Charlton handed over to the nightshift nurses she mentioned that ‘our Marie’s’ wound was leaking and the three nurses all agreed it was a shame. Sister said she hoped it was just a build-up of discharge from the op.

Just after 9pm, Mary, having been to the loo, called in for a chat. She was still there at 11.20pm. It was lovely having some company and the nurses weren’t bothered. They even brought a drip stand so Mary could be hooked up to her antibiotics. That wouldn’t have happened in ward 43.

Even though it was after midnight I decided to raid my contraband. I had had a horrible day and I need chocolate – lots of it !!!!!

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