Birthdays in hospital

Last year I spent my birthday, Big Girl's birthday, Big Fella's birthday and my Hubby's birthday in hospital.

While going through my photos I came across some pictures that we took to mark the events and thought I would share them with you.

I decorated the bed for visiting time on Big girls birthday.

Giving out the presents. I got a friend who was visiting the day before bring some bits so that I could have something to give her.

Hubby wearing the favourite present- a 99p pair of novelty glasses. In the background is my laundry drying on the curtain rail. There was a washing machine and tumble drier on the ward but some of my stuff couldn't be tumble dried. This was my solution. One day my consultant came and had to push past it all to see me. She laughed so much and said she had never seen a patient do it before.

We had a birthday picnic in the day room. This was Big girls picnic face.

Me and hubby on my birthday. The ward at Princess Alexandra was very strict about visiting times so I had to sneak him and the kids in. Hence why the curtains are all closed.

Getting a bit tearful opening cards.

But it wasn't all sad. This was my birthday dinner in the hospital restaurant. You can't beat curly chips and beans. And no, that's not a new statement earring that I got for my birthday! That was my central line that I used to tuck over my ear to stop it dangling and pulling on my neck.

In the second picture I'm laughing as I had to pretend to blow the candles out on my birthday cake. We couldn't light them incase we caused the fire alarm to go off and the hospital to be evacuated!

All my lovely cards, pictures and baloons on my locker by my bed.

This one isn't a birthday picture but I thought I would include it anyway. This was me on day release (or 2 hour morning release to give it its proper title!). It was the kids first day back at school and I was determined to be there, even if it had to be in a wheelchair.

My lovely friends captioned the picture 'Lou and Andy'! I personally don't see the similarity myself ;)

NB x

Comments

Light at the end of tunnel

I’m sat writing this blog post in St Marks, the specialist bowel hospital in London. So much has happened in the last few weeks; it’s all been a bit of a whirlwind. But I finally feel like there is some hope at the end of the tunnel. Let me tell you why. At the beginning of June I was admitted yet again to QMC in Nottingham with huge amounts of pain, my bowels not working properly and just feeling generally unwell. I had only been home a couple of weeks since the admission in May but I had been feeling so rubbish most of my time had been spent in bed. I had tried everything I could to stay at home but the pain had become so bad I was barely able to stand or take a few steps on my own. I had expected to maybe be in for a week or two to get stronger pain meds and get back on my feet but I ended up being in for almost a month. They put me on morphine injections and ketamine but then stopped them when my heart rate dropped to 30 beats per minute and my breathing to 7 breaths a minute. Th

The light at the end of the tunnel is a train

Last week was a busy and pretty crappy week for me health wise. I had to go and have blood tests done with the nutrition nurses and I had two hospital appointments; one with the gallbladder surgeon in Nottingham and the other with colorectal surgeon at St Marks. I was hoping to have at least one surgery date to write in the diary following these appointments but I came home empty handed on both occasions. Here’s what happened. I began noticing over the last few weeks that I’ve started feeling really crappy. I’m feel lucky to have been at home for the last 6 months and I have been the most well I have been for years but it felt like things had shifted slightly recently but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. But years of being sick means I know my body and I can tell when something isn’t right. I have been feeling permanently exhausted and having way more bad days than good. I’ve gone back to spending 2, 3 or more consecutive days in bed, unable to do anything but watch tv and sleep.

The wrong size line

I’m on the M1 heading back to Nottingham after a road trip to St Marks to get my line repaired. But this is me, and as usual it wasn’t a smooth ride. More like a bloody shit show. So what happened? Let me tell you… After being admitted to QMC in Nottingham on Sunday with a broken Hickman line I was taken down to Interventional Radiology on Monday afternoon to get my line repaired. Firstly, I couldn’t believe it was happening so quickly and secondly I didn’t want to get too excited because, well it’s me, and usually things don’t go according to plan. And sadly I right to rein in the excitement. When the doctor came to consent me for the procedure it was for a replacement, not a repair. I assumed he had made a mistake so I told him I was there to get my line repaired and was definitely not there for a new one. He looked at me and said “I hate to be the bearer of bad news…” and that’s a sentence that never bodes well. He then went on to say that they didn’t have any repair kits and that

More than just a bag lady

Search This Blog