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 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!