Skip to main content

The good run ends

It was inevitable that this run of good health (and good luck!) would come to an end sometime. And that sometime was last night when I was admitted into Nottingham's Queens Medical Centre Hospital (QMC for short)

In the early hours of Tuesday morning I woke up feeling absolutely freezing. I thought that the open window was to blame for that and the aches I felt in my body. I got up and put on my thick bed jumper along with a blanket. With my hustling and bustling Hubby woke up and told me that it was not cold and that I didn't need a jumper but I just ignored him and snuggled down to go back to sleep. 

When I woke up Mum, Dad and Hubby had all left for work. I could barely get out of bed because my head was pounding and my body ached so badly. I finally went downstairs to find the kids watching TV. I stuck some waffles in the toaster for their breakfast and then told them that I was going back to bed and not to open the door to anyone. It didn't take long though for them to come upstairs to play on their iPads but then I heard someone else downstairs. I was sure I had locked the doors but maybe I hadn't otherwise how was someone downstairs?

Shitting myself (in a terminological way and not literal for a change!) I went downstairs. I didn't know who I would find and when I saw the back door open my heart started beating ten to the dozen. But then I saw my Nan! The kids must have opened the back door to go into the garden for something and not getting a reply at the front door Nan had wandered round the back to see if anyone was in. She had brought Big Girls birthday card and present up for me to put away until the day itself. We spoke for a short time and I was having cold sweats and just felt awful. When she left I gratefully climbed the stairs and got back to bed. 

My relief was shortlived though as I has an appointment with an Occupational Therapist to see what aids and adaptations I could have around the house to make it easier and safer for me to get around and do everyday things. The kids were playing on their iPads and hadn't heard the doorbell and I hoped that she would give up and go away. But she was persistent and I dragged my body down the stairs again. I was in so much pain and so stiff I looked and felt like I had the body of an 80 year old. Which probably helped with the assessment to be honest. After 30 minutes of showing her around the house and discussing the changes that we needed to make now to my parents home and those that could wait until we had our own house I was on my knees. Eventually she left and said that she would ring later to confirm the delivery of the items we had agreed on but I turned my phone to silent and crawled into bed. It turns out that I had 16 missed calls so I'm glad I did! I slept and woke up a few hours later to ask Big Fella to get me my tablets and a drink. could hear Big Girl making lunch for them both downstairs so happy that they were a) alive and b) not starving to death I went back to sleep. 

When I next woke I had a raging temperature and the aches in my body were so painful I could barely lift my head off the pillow. At this point I was starting to fear that this could be a line infection but I knew that the only way to find out would be to connect my TPN later and I didn't want to do that until Hubby got home. The kids were great, bringing me another drink and making me toast and marmalade despite then saying that marmalade looked and smelt gross. 

My parents returned home from work and busied themselves with making dinner for themselves and the kids. I honestly don't think they realised how poorly I was as they had only ever seen me once I had been admitted to hospital with a line infection, not at the beginning of one. Perhaps I should have told them my fears and got one of them to ring 111 or take me to A&E. But I didn't. I wanted Hubby and it was Sod's law that tonight the traffic was bad and he was going to be late home. 

When he did get in he took one look at me and got the thermometer out. My temperature was over 40 degrees. Luckily I didn't experience the Rigors (horrible painful jerky movements caused by the infection in your bloodstream and a high temperature) or hallucinations so there were no giant spiders or rabbits to contend with. This was probably because I hadn't started my feed going which would push the infection straight into the heart and into blood stream. 

Seeing the combination of such a high temperature and how ill I was Hubby immediately called for an ambulance. I don't remember too much about this bit other than eventually sitting on a chair and being put into the ambulance. It was strange being in an ambulance and not knowing the route to the hospital. Back in Hertfordshire if I ever went in an ambulance I knew every bump and turn in the road on the journey from home to hospital. 

In A&E I remember being assessed straight away by a nurse and then another coming to put a cannula in my hand and having the usual difficulties. Here's me waiting to see the Doctor:


I had been put on oxygen as my oxygen rate had fallen to 92%. Despite having a ridiculously high temperature I felt so cold and had an ongoing battle with the nurse over my thick bed jumper. She wanted me to take it off completely but I was freezing cold and shivering. I wasn't going to give up the fight and whenever she walked away I pulled it straight back over me!

I think they like to get people out of the A&E department as quickly as possible to keep waiting times down and keep everyone moving. As soon as the doctor had seen me and started some antibiotics going I was moved onto what I assume is an assessment ward. The nurse said that people either stay there a few days and then go home or get moved onto another ward. I got onto the ward around 3.30am and was put into a side room with 2 beds. I was nodding off when a healthcare assistant came in and began bombarding me with questions in order to complete the admission paperwork. By 4.30am I was able to close my eyes but I didn't get much sleep because an hour later an old lady was brought in and put into the empty bed. They then spent an hour talking to her, well shouting at her because she was deaf and couldn't hear them, which meant that me and the rest of the ward were all party to this lady's admission. When they came round with breakfast at 8am I was exhausted. I didn't want to fall asleep and miss the doctor coming round so I sat reading the magazines that Hubby had luckily put in my overnight bag. My plan worked and I saw the doctor. He was a general medical doctor not a gastro one so didn't have much to add to the plan other than to get me referred to one. Later that afternoon I was transferred to the gastro ward which is on the top floor of the hospital. Not only was I lucky enough to get a room to myself, it's ensuite and has these fantastic views. 



Not long after getting to the new ward Dad brought the kids to see me. They were worn out after spending the day outdoors in the sunshine and were happy to kick off their shoes and climb on the bed for a snuggle. As well as seeing the kids I was also looking forward to the clean pjs Dad was bringing with him. I had been in the same clothes for over 24 hours and had enjoyed temperatures of over 40 degrees in them and the sweating that obviously goes with that. To say that I wasn't smelling my best was probably an understatement! But I didn't want to put clean clothes onto a dirty body so I decided to have a shower. I was hooked up to drips and antibiotics and had to avoid getting my Hickman line too wet plus my whole body was aching and I was exhausted. Big Girl offered to help me and she held the shower head to make sure I only got wet in the right places. She is a really good helper when she wants to be and her caring tendencies are clear to see. Not only did she wash my hair she then sat me on the bed and started to plait my hair. 

It was soon time for them to go home but not long after they had left Hubby arrived straight from work. We went down to Costa to get a drink and work out a plan for childcare over the coming days. I reckoned that it would be pretty similar to St Marks and I would have a week of antibiotics then a night of TPN then home. I can't believe that yet again the summer holidays are ruined with me being in hospital and that I would miss another one of Big Girl's birthdays. Fingers crossed they will let me out on day release to spend some time with her otherwise I will be totally gutted. 

NB x




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Caravan wankers

Over the last few years when I was stuck in hospital for long periods of time Hubby and I would talk about what we would do if I ever got ‘better’. During some of those times when I was so, so poorly the idea of just being at home for more than a few weeks at a time seemed like a far fetched dream. But I’m currently living that dream! And obviously I know I will never ‘get better’ but for these purposes ‘getting better’ meant being well enough to be at home, not in pain 24/7 and not in bed all day, every day. Not too much to ask now is it??  So in our talks, once I was at home and was well enough to do the real basic things like watch Big Fella play football, Big Girl play netball, go to Tesco, play with the dog, go to the cinema etc one thing kept cropping up. We would love to have a motor home and tour round the country. We talked about the places we would like to visit, how much Buddy the dog would love it and how it would give us a chance to reconnect with each other.  But...

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 sl...

Trying to get vaccinated

When I was an inpatient recently I asked about getting the Covid vaccine because I’m classed as Clinically Extremely Vulnerable (ECV). Apparently other patients on the ward had gotten theirs but I was told that it wouldn’t be possible and that I would have to get in touch with my GP. Apparently staff within the hospital had been using the system to book vaccinations for friends and family by saying that they were an inpatient and as a result they were now only vaccinating staff who could show their ID badge.  I can understand that people are worried about the people that they love but to think that people abused the system in that way makes my blood boil.  So when I was discharged I rang the GP surgery and was told that they had absolutely nothing to do with the vaccination programme and that I would need to get in touch with NHS England. So I called NHS England and spoke to an adviser who told me that according to the system I wasn’t eligible for a vaccination. I explain...