Dear Emma,
Firstly I must apologise to you for taking this long to write to you as I promised I would do to tell you what has happened to me since we last met.
Well, Happy Belated Birthday greetings for the 23rd April seems a good place to start.
I should have been taken in on the 28th March but for some unknown reason known only to Patient Transport and the Ward, who at about midday told me " Yes Mr Chapman we will have a bed available for you but it won't be until later on this evening about 5:00pm". Fine I thought, but hang on if I go in at that time I will be on my own honour to keep to a NBM for the period - well no problems I thought the staff know me and I hoped that they would trust my word. 5:00pm came, so did 6:00pm and at about 7:00pm my phone rang - would this be the phone call I had been waiting all day for? It was " HALLELUJAH!!!" What time should I expect the transport? I innocently asked. "What transport?" was the answer in a very dolcit tone like I was trying to obtain something for nothing.
After explaining my total incapacity and inability to catch a bus, taxi, walk or have a friend drive me to the hospital it was decided that they would admit me now in the morning, the 29th. Transport would be made available to pick me up and after insisting that they must bring a wheelchair to the flat and getting them to repeat what I had told them I was now faced with a long dryish and most certainly hungry night ahead not knowing what time the transport was coming for me and more importantly when my operation was going to be.
Taking a chance, I had scrambled eggs on toast and a mug of very weak black tea with no sugar to try and stave off the hunger and thirst pangs. I remember someone sometime telling me nothing after midnight except sips of water and most certainly nothing at all after 10:00 am on the day of surgery.
The morning of the 29th arrived after a very long and lonely night not watching the hours go by more like the minutes!! Just after 10:00 the ambulance arrived complete with wheelchair in tow - I was on my way.
Arriving in Castle Point Ward, comments like - Back again, Can't stay away, Come for your holidays have we, made me feel wanted in a strange and bizarre way. Before I knew it, my bed was stripped down ready for theatre, handed my party frock, directed to the shower room and told to prepare for theatre.
The Anesthetist came along and asked me the usual inane bunch of questions "Have you had any operations before? Are you allergic to anesthetics?" and many other routine questions. I felt like saying to her "Read my file and all your questions will be answered there"
In theatre the Anesthetist asked me if the PICC line was serviceable and how long I had had it in for and when I told him, he was quite amazed seeing it was being used in a none surgical / medical environment and would use it for his anesthetic. Mr Greer, my surgeon, all gowned up poked his nose in asked me how I was and were there any last minute requests I had. Strange sense of humour these Scotsmen have you know!!
Well everything went really well in surgery and after only a couple of hours in theatre I was in recovery and back on the ward within the hour just in time for supper at 5:00pm?
The main problem now was the following morning if it could be called a problem was that I was kept on Ticopalin - (I know I have spelt it wrong but you know what I mean) and for some unknown reason would not use the PICC line but insisted on a cannular.
I tried to explain that I have had problems with them, but one was duly inserted. Then the bombshell hit not a 100ml infusion but 250ml and having previous experience of 250ml bags of vancomyacin I then knew 2 - 3 hours later I would be released from this torture. After a couple of cannulars later and frustrated staff trying to get one to stay put, the PICC line was restored to its former glory, flushed, pulled back and lo and behold after not being used for four days it delivered that lovely sight - BLOOD. Now only on a 100ml drip 20 - 30 mins later, flushed and heprinated the line stayed in constant daily use until my final IVAB on the 18th April - yes I did spend Easter in Hospital and released the day before my birthday.
Only one other memorable story to tell you about this stay in hospital was all due to when the HCA's or nurses take your obs and ask the usual questions, bowels, bladder, pain etc. After being an experienced patient following so many operations, I knew my own body well enough to know that my bowels and bladder would not perform their natural functions for a few days and was not unduly concerned. Well this was the case until one morning the pain in my stomach was excruciating. My God I picked up an infection last time now I?ve got bloody kidney stones!!! Not true - Urinary Retention. Now, I had been threatened many times before with a catheter and never needed to have one inserted and I think the thought of where it goes and the size of it is enough to bring tears to the eyes of the strongest and bravest of any man. I had to have it done after all look what I have gone through already and surely it must be done under a local or something. The Doctor arrived with his stainless steel trolley pulled the curtains round the bed his assistant gloved up and started to lay out the sterile packs and it was then and only then did I realise the true magnitude of the beast that was about to be inserted in a very delicate part of a mans? anatomy. What really put the icing on the cake for me was after recovering from seeing the device I recognized the Doctor who was to perform the procedure. I called him the Vampire as it was the Doctor who could never get a cannular in any of my veins at the first attempt and he is now going to attempt to shove that bloody great tube in my *****. I could have died!!!
?What was I worried about? I thought after it had been inserted, no reason at all just the thought of it brought tears to my eyes but it really was quite painless just a strange sensation.
The relief was instant and I never realised how much fluid the human bladder held.
From then on in it was just the IVABS daily, redressing the wound, having my arm used as a dartboard by every phlebotomist in Southend General Hospital for cultures, blood counts etc the same as you used to do for me.
Thanks very much for that referral to Social Care it started the day after I came home with 2 carers in the morning and evening for ¼ hour each, and another twice on Mondays for an hour each time to do housework and shopping for me.
Even now I still miss the daily visits by yourself and your colleagues how you all kept me going through the roughest patch of my life, my divorce was certainly far easier to cope with as was with the death of my last partner. I cannot thank you all enough for the care and compassion that you demonstrated in the delivery of service afforded to me (that?s using the latest buzz phrases I hope you realise.)
Once again many many thanks and if you?re passing and fancy a cup of coffee please call in - a warm welcome guaranteed!!
I?m on the road to recovery, which I expect will take some time considering the number of invasive procedures I went through, and having some 70 odd clips and a few sutures removed from the final incision site.
God bless you all
All of you will always be my angels
