Still ranting

I'm lying here at 5.30am unable to sleep. I have been awake all night. All bloody night. The irony is that the bay is near silent tonight. No snorers, no machines beeping, no nurses disturbing me at 2am to do a blood test so I really have no idea why I'm wide awake. 

It seems as good an opportunity to continue my rant from one of my last posts because yesterday it got even worse. 

Bearing in mind that the last visitor of the old lady in the bed next to me left about 11pm on Sunday night I was astonished to see them all descend again yesterday morning at 8.45am. Not one. Not two. But four. Four visitors coming in over 2 hours before visiting was due to start. 

I had totally had enough by this point so in the absence of the ward sisters I took myself off to see Matron. Matron Ummi is a middle aged Asian lady whose waist is so tiny I could probably get my hands around it. But her eyes and tone show that she's formidable and she runs the St Marks wards with a mixture of fear, respect but also warmth to the staff and patients. 

I explained what had happened on Sunday and that there were visitors there already including a man. She agreed that it was out of order and that it was especially bad in the morning when we are all getting washed and dressed etc. She gave me 5 minutes to get back to my bed then she came in.  

She told them only 2 visitors at the bed, that visiting was 11-8 (which is super generous anyway compared to most hospitals) and that under no circumstances was a man to be in the bay at this time of the morning. 

Off they slunk to the dayroom until 10 minutes later they snuck back in. Fed up I went back to see Matron and told her I was going for a shower and could she please sort it out? She assured me she would. 

I had my shower (and you know how much I enjoyed that!) and went back to my bed. Feeling invigorated I decided to get my body lotion out and slather up. So you can imagine how shocked I was when the man walked back into the bay while I'm sitting on my bed in my bra and knickers basting myself like you would a turkey on Christmas Day. 

As soon as the lotion had sunk in I was dressed and back to matrons office. This was getting ridiculous. She came back and kicked them out again. She agreed that they could have 3 at the bedside and that they could have visiting until 8.30pm but of course if you give an inch...

At various points of the day there were up to 10 around the bed and did they leave at 8.30pm last night? Did they hell. Try 10pm. 

I'm supposed to be moving to the Intestinal Failure Unit tomorrow now that I don't need to be on the surgical ward and I tell you, I can't wait to go. This is all doing my head in. 

I just want to point out that whilst my lovely bed neighbour is elderly she is neither dying or gravely ill. If she were I would have no problem with the family being there at all. She is having a colitis flare. Like half the people in St Marks. Like I've spent years having. 

Even at my sickest after having major, life saving, complicated surgeries Hubby has always had to observe the visiting rules and on the occasions he was so worried about whether I would last the night he's spent the night sleeping on a bench in the cafeteria or some other part of the hospital to be close to me. It would seem there's one rule for most and then those who just don't care and do what they bloody like. And if you kick up no doubt they would accuse you of being racist. 

But on another very serious matter I have nearly used all of my January allowance of 3G! So that means that Vodafone will now start charging me a million pounds a minute or gigabyte or whatever to use the Internet. Super. 

The doctors have said that I'm going to be in at least for the rest of the week so this could be a problem. I will have to limit my Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Email, eBay time and not check them every 10 minutes like I do at the moment!  I suppose I will just have to get my book out and read. 

The doctors have said that I'm not strong enough to go home yet. I'm still not able to tolerate enough food or drink to keep me adequately nourished. They seem to have took my appetite away along with the Stoma! And because I've spent the last 6 months on a very severe fluid restriction I've trained myself to over-ride the thirsty feelings and can go through the whole day on less than one cup of water. 

Knowing that unless I get more food and drink into me I won't be going home I've set alarms on my phone every two hours to remind me to eat and drink. 

One thing I'm enjoying is a bit of mash and gravy. The picture makes it look gross but trust me it really is a little plate of heaven to me!

I got my veggie gravy brought in from home and can make it up in my mug from the hot water thing in the dayroom- what are they called, the things on the wall plumbed into the water that has boiling water constantly? i just can't think of the word probably due to lack of sleep. 

On Sunday I had one scoop of mash and half a mug of my veggie gravy and yesterday I had 2 scoops and a whole mug full. Half way through I was starting to feel full and a bit sick but it was like an episode of 'man versus food' and I was not to be outdone by the extra mash. There was a lot of huffing and puffing and heaving but I am proud to say I won. In your face extra scoop of mash!

I have a good friend coming to visit me this afternoon and she's bringing some snacks in the hope that it will kick start my desire to eat. I'm not sure it will but I will force them down because I want to get home to my family. 

NB x