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 !!!!!
Wednesday, 30 June 2010
Wednesday, 16 June 2010
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 !!!!!!!
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 !!!!!!!
Tuesday, 15 June 2010
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
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
Monday, 14 June 2010
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 ….
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 ….
Sunday, 13 June 2010
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….
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….
Saturday, 12 June 2010
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….
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….
Friday, 11 June 2010
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 !!!!
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 !!!!
Thursday, 10 June 2010
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….
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….
Wednesday, 9 June 2010
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 !!!!
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 !!!!
Monday, 7 June 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, 6 June 2010
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’.
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’.
Saturday, 5 June 2010
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 !!!!
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 !!!!
Friday, 4 June 2010
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 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 !!!
Thursday, 3 June 2010
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….
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….
Wednesday, 2 June 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
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…
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…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
