Tales from bed 5

A week ago today, I was bawling my eyes out in hospital, whilst getting fluids intravenously in preparation for yet another surgery to take place the following day.

Bawling my eyes out because I was -

a) tired from lack of sleep due to anxiety and worry

b) tired emotionally

c) put on the geriatric ward

Lets talk about point c. 

Seriously, I was put on a ward full of sick helpless elderly people, some of them, as bad as it sounds, seemingly on their way to the next life. This is not the place you put someone who is about to have her 7th surgery in 5 years!

Unfortunately, I was a victim of the changes in the NHS, the cutbacks....hey thanks for that coalition government! 

But back to Wednesday 17th April 2013. 

I checked into hospital at 2.30pm, into surgical reception, where I was examined by a very lovely doctor from my surgical team. By 3pm, the cannula was in - first try, praise Jesus! 

4pm....still in surgical reception waiting on a bed... 

At 5pm, the doctor decides enough waiting, he's going to start the fluids in surgical reception....I mean that was the whole point of checking into hospital a day early, so I could get fluids and ensure I was hydrated for the surgery. One has to always take into account the sickle cell factor and make sure everything possible is done so I am at the healthiest I can be on that operating table - blood exchange transfusion had been done successfully, and thankfully painlessly, the previous Friday (again cannula's inserted in both arms on the first try - I know after the drama with the last exchange transfusions in February and October last year, my Mama was praying with her every being that they find veins and they did, first bleemin try!)

But I digress - so it's 5pm and I am sitting in surgical reception hooked up to my bag of fluids with my assorted 'vital for hospital stay' belongings scattered all around me - just in case you were wondering, these consist of kindle, ipod, Reader's Digest, Take a Breaks puzzles, ribena, M&S flapjack cookies, bottle of water, blackberry and nokia phones. My over-night bag had been taken away and kept by a nice nurse as it was too cumbersome to log around with a bag of fluids attached to and thereby incapacitating one arm.

Anyway, finally at 5.30pm I am informed they've got a bed for me. Yay me...until I get to the 7th floor, enter the ward and as we are proceeding to bed 5, realise that all the beds we are passing are full of old, really OLD patients. 

Surely a mistakes been made. 

But alas no, it's the only bed available in the entire hospital I am told. I am also told reassuringly that it is only for one night, after the surgery I will be taken to a surgical ward.

I would like to say I took this reassurance in a good way and settled down like the adult that I am, after all it's only for one night. Yeah right! Go back to the first paragraph above and read the part about bawling my eyes out.

I am not ashamed to say I cried like it was the end...cried so much I'm sure Mama, Aunty J, Cuz S, and Dr Lil were sure it was the end!

Not like they were there with me or anything....did I forget to mention that I had the bright idea of doing this on my own, checking into hospital, going into surgery and checking out...all on my own! As such I had informed all supportive parties that they were banned from the hospital.

Well I realised the stupidity of that decision when I was sitting on bed 5 bawling on the phone to the above-mentioned peeps whilst staring across at a patient who I wasn't quite sure was going to make it through the night.

But short of ripping the cannula out of my arm, grabbing my stuff and storming out, I was stuck. So I drew my curtains, isolated myself as best as I could and settled in.

The upside of the geriatric ward is - it's the geriatric ward, patients are sick and helpless and mostly immobile, so I had the bathroom to myself. The downside, immobile does not mean bodily functions stop...and unfortunately this means, bathroom stuff happens at the bedside - sweet lord the smells I dealt with....there are no words...no words!

But I am a flippin trooper, if I do say so myself. I have been reared to deal with the crap life throws, one breath at a time - with a smile on my friggin face (after bawling of course, one has to bawl!)

So I hang in there all night...very uncomfortable, highly irritable and just generally fed up with everything...but I deal. And I try to get my mind, soul and entire being into a good place because I had a surgery to get through.

And I'm happy to report I did. It helped of course that Mama and Aunty J, ignoring the ban, showed up first thing in the morning to help get my spirits up.

But I got through my stay in bed 5...and through the surgery...and through my 5 hour stay in the recovery room post-surgery...but that's a story for another time. 

Like I said...trooper!