Skip to main content

Home


I am home! 

I AM HOME!!!

After 127 days in hospital I honestly thought this day would never come. But it has and I am finally at home. 

Friday afternoon I fell asleep in the afternoon and didn’t feel too good and then I was asleep literally all of yesterday. The nurses were a bit worried cause I was feeling crappy so they got one of the doctors to come and review me. I already knew we were aiming for discharge on Sunday and I was worried that this would set me back but I also didn’t want to come home to bounce straight back in again. The doctor didn’t seem too worried but ordered blood tests just to make sure I wasn’t brewing anything. 

So this morning I waited impatiently to have the blood tests done which didn’t happen until almost lunchtime. Hubby had been texting me almost hourly asking if I would still be coming home, neither of us daring to believe it would actually happen. I didn’t know what to do with myself because I didn’t want to pack and jinx it but also knew this was the closest I had come to being discharged for months. Each time a discharge was imminent something had happened that kept me in so I didn’t want to get my hopes up. 

I had a few games of Dobble with the nurses to pass the time and agreed with Hubby that him and the kids would pick me up at 3.30pm. At 3pm I asked if my bloods were back but they had only just gone down to the lab and the results wouldn’t be back for a few hours. I spoke with the Deputy Sister that was in charge of the ward and she agreed I could go home when Hubby arrived but that if the bloods showed anything they would ring. 

I went round saying my goodbyes to all the nurses and having hugs. They were as excited as I was that I was finally going home and that I would be going on holiday. Well fingers crossed I will be. That’s still 12 days away and if life has taught me anything a lot can happen in my world in 12 days!! 

But for now I’m enjoying being at home. After making a fuss of me initially Big Fella is now on his Xbox, Big Girl is watching Love Island, Buddy is trying to get Hubby to take him out on a walk and life is perfect. And in time honoured tradition the kids have cut off my hospital wristband to signal the fact that I am home. They’ve done this since they were toddlers and it’s a way of cutting ties with the hospital, quite literally. 

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

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
Post a Comment
Read more

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.
Post a Comment
Read more

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
1 comment
Read more