Day 38 – Jobsworth

Friday 16th October 2009

Could my leaking have finally dried up… I looked at my dressing just after I’d been to the loo early that morning and there didn’t appear to be any marks on it. People kept telling me to look on the positive side so I should be thinking this is it, and I’d be home on Monday.

However I’m not a person who had luck in their lives which is why I always looked on the black side of things. I really wanted to believe that it had stopped oozing but my instinct told me I couldn’t start celebrating yet.

Doctor Richard called in to check my dressing, then Doctor Zara did the same. She thanked me for having a chat with the student yesterday.

I popped into see Mary just before lunch. She was a still a little down. Last night we spent 1 ½ hours chatting and that seemed to have lifted her spirits a little. It was so easy to get fed up and depressed in hospital. I seemed to have one good day and then a down day the next. My mam used to ask “What day are we today”. Tactful as ever…

So much for the dietician trying to change my lunch time food. Yet again I got a salad and baked potatoes. It was getting to the point were I was frightened to tell them I liked something otherwise I would get it for every single meal.

Kermit came to see how my leaking was doing. He was going to give it until Monday then make a decision on whether a bigger washout would be required. Zara was accompanying him on his rounds and when he mentioned another trip to the theatre, she was trying hard not to laugh as she knew I called it the woodshed.

While I was at the loo, one of the men from the bay opposite my side room hadn’t noticed that the sign on the loo door said ‘women’, so was most embarrassed when he tried to open the door and a ladies voice shouted “I’ll be out in a minute”.

He waited until I had come out of the loo to apologise. I told him not to worry as the loos kept changing ‘their sex’ every couple of days depending on which had the most patients, and most patients took no notice of the sign anyway.

A little later he asked one of the nurses if it was ok for him to pop into my room to say hello as he didn’t know if I could be disturbed.
“Are you a private BUPA patient,”, he asked, “seeing as you’re in a side room”.
“No”, I replied, “I had an infection when I was admitted and they didn’t know if I was contagious”.
A look of horror appeared on his face.
“Don’t worry”, I said, trying to reassure him, “I’m not”.

We chatted for about ½ hour, mainly talking about pubs as he lived not far from me. He was due to be discharged that afternoon so when his wife came to collect him, he popped in to say goodbye.
About 4.45pm Teraseta was about to give me my tablets when she asked if she could be excused as two paramedics had appeared at the nurses station. They had come to collect a gentleman, Arthur, from the men’s bay, to take him to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Gateshead.

She filled them in on his medical history and said he was fit to travel. She added that during the night he had experienced slight chest pains but following an ECG and a check-up with a doctor, everything was fine.
“We can’t take him”, said one of the paramedics, “he’s a risk”.
“What do you mean, a risk”, she asked.
“Because of his chest pains, we can’t take him, in case he has a heart attack”.
“He’s fine”, she stressed, “he hasn’t had any more pains and the doctors say he’s fine”.
The two men shook their head. “We’re not taking him”.
Things stated to get a little heated. Teraseta kept reassuring them that Arthur was ok, but they were not budging.
She picked up the phone and asked if Doctor Zara would come down to the nurse station.
I could hear Zara’s footsteps coming down the ward as she always wore high heels.
Teraseta explained what the problem was. Even though the two paramedics were quite large and Zara was very small, she stood her ground.
“I’ll have to get permission from my manager”, said one of the men.
“The phone’s there”, said Zara, pointing to the phone on the nurses station.
Five minutes later, he put down the receiver.
“My boss says we can take him but we’re not bringing him back. He’ll have to make his own way back”.

After Arthur had been wheeled away by the paramedics Teraseta came into my room, extremely upset.
“The poor man’s wife is dying. She’s on a life support machine”, she sobbed, “and they weren’t going to let him go and say goodbye before they switched off the machine”.

I knew that Arthur’s wife was in hospital as the man who came and had a chat with me that morning, had told me. I didn’t know it was that serious. Arthur had been on the ward for a couple of days and I used to say hello and wave to him when I went to the loo. He was lovely man, and it was just so sad.

I told Mary what had happened as she had heard raised voices but didn’t know what was the matter. While I was in Mary’s room later that evening, Arthur had come back from the hospital.
“How did he look”, she asked.
“He seemed ok”, I replied, “he was even laughing with the paramedics”.

When one of the night staff nurses came to give me my final tablets of the day she told me that Arthur’s wife had died at 6pm. She too was very upset.

I went straight to tell Mary and who said she would pray for him.