Skip to main content

Hickman line trauma


I got a new Hickman line last Friday. 


I started to write a blog post on what happened but I just can’t. I’ve tried and tried but every time I try I manage to write a few sentences and then I have to leave it. The whole experience was extremely traumatic and I’ve accepted that for now it’s too difficult for me to write  about in any great detail. 

In a nutshell I went down to have a new line put in last Wednesday. Because of issues with my veins after about 20 minutes of trying the procedure had to be abandoned. During those 20 minutes despite lots of local anaesthetic and sedation I was in a lot of pain and found the experience really awful. As a result it was agreed that it would be best if the insertion was done under a general anaesthetic. It should have happened on the Thursday but they had some emergencies in theatre and I got bumped off the list. Any how it happened on Friday afternoon. 

I know they must have had some issues putting the line in as before they put me to sleep they said the procedure should last 30-60 minutes but in fact it took closer to 2 hours. 

The good news is that with a line in I will be able to go home. But the bad news is that my poor access is now starting to cause me real issues. I know that if I need a new line in the future it’s likely it will have to be done under a general anaesthetic again and I really worry that there will come a time when the veins in my chest are simply unusable. I’m assured by the team on the ward that there are other, inventive places they could put a line and that I should never have no access but inventive solutions are often difficult and painful solutions. 

Ironically since getting my new line I’ve been so, so down. I think that although I know I’m getting closer to going home the effects of the last 12 weeks have hit me like a steam train crashing through a brick wall. I know that the way I try to cope with everything my illness throws at me is by soldiering on and putting all my difficult emotions into a box with the lid shut tight and securely padlocked. But sometimes the lid comes off and like Pandora’s box I never quite know what’s going to come flying out. I’ve had days where I haven’t been able to stop crying. I’ve been angry, sad, hopeless and downright bitter about the situation I find myself in. But if I think about it rationally though I know that all those emotions are driven by fear. 

I’m terrified of what the future holds for me. I feel like I’m stuck in a horrible limbo where I have to accept that while I wait for surgery there is a very real chance that there will be other hospital admissions. And then there’s the fact that even when I do finally have surgery it might not fix me. In fact it could make everything worse. I’m 40 years old and the thought of living like this for another 20, 30 or 40 years scares the hell out of me. Funnily enough this was on the Crohn’s & Colitis Awareness Facebook page today and just sums up how I’m feeling right now. 





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...