A nice lack of skywater, a nice dose of solar stuff, an even
nicer absence of atmospheric movement and an expected amount of lack of warm at
the Castle this morn.
I managed to survive my "visit" to Grimly Dark Orspital,
and am now back on the sofa "resting".
It was interesting; as this was my first experience as a
patient I can only go on what I have been subjected to and the treatment I
received.
First up, my GP had sanctioned "Orspital
Transport" for poor old Angus, it was booked for 11 of the am, unfortunately
it turned up at 10 of the am and in my rush to get going I forgot to turn orf
the central heating, but the 'concierge' was good humoured and helpful, the
driver was a bit of a miserable mare and didn't say a word, but ho-hum.
Travelled to Grimly Dark at 57 mph (the transport was
limited to that speed) but arrived
safely and was taken to the "Pre OP" do-dah or "POD" an
hour early but as the receptionist was orf somewhere collecting the mail ten
minutes passed before I was booked in.
Sat waiting for half an hour, then was called to the
"ward"-four trolleys jammed into an alcove given a gown and left to
change.
The nurse (Chinese) was
good, kind and attentive, the staff nurse (non specific nationality but not
native) was OK.
I was booked to go dahn to have the old arteries reamed at 2
of the pm, so a nice three and a half hour wait was in store, managed to have a
nap and chatted to the two other guys, one had been there since 7 of the am and
had just been told that he had been bumped to the afternoon list, the other one
was taken away almost immediately and I never saw him again.
The nurse did a few checks-blood pressure, sats and a blood
sugar thingy, time passed, no food or drink, then at 1.45 of the pm I was taken
to the "theatre", stayed on the trolley in the waiting bit, the
nurses (one Polish and one Brit) chatted and gave me an extra blanket because
of the lack of heat.
2 of the pm came and went, as did 2.30 and three of the pm
then just after 3 the organic mechanic turned up, sort of explained what he was
going to do, got me to sign a consent thingy and then pissed orf for another
half hour.
Taken into the theatre at 3.45, the organic mechanic returned
with another who was concerned that I hadn't had anything to eat or drink since
eight that morning, told her it was because that is what the letter said that
they sent me, "I will change that she said".
Removed the boxers and got onto the bed thingy was painted
orange from belly button to dangly bits covered up with a big paper sheet
do-dah and a couple of stick on holey things either side of the man veg.
Said first organic mechanic then proceeded to inject local anaesthetic
in the left side next to the dangly bits, did a bit of pushing and shoving
while the nurse was asking me questions-address, name, age, what am I allergic
to etc.
Then the OM inserted a balloon into the numb groiny bit and
told me to tell him when it hurt---did I......then he said he was going to put
a stent in which he did.
Taken back to POD on the trolley, stayed on the trolley for
two hours while the nurse did "obs" every half hour-blood pressure,
sats, pulse and the inevitable blood sugar thingy.
Then I was allowed to sit up a bit, and given a cup of
coffee and a cheese sandwich.
By now it was getting on for 6 of the pm and the POD closed
at seven so a hectic race was on to find me a bed.
After many, many phone calls a "bed" was found and
much to my surprise after spending eight hours on the trolley was whisked orf
to "Parkside" the private Orspital attached to Grimly Dark.
Oh joy I thunk, private room, en-suite and a TV, it turned
out that the room was vacant because the roof had leaked, and there was no
remote for the TV.
And to be really honest I would rather they had put me in
the car park because it would have been quieter, the "sister" was a
German who could only communicate at decibel levels above 100 and I swear she
was marching up and dahn the corridor all bloody night in her jack boots, and
on the roof of the room was a stonking great air-con thingy which cut in and out
every fifteen minutes, add that to the hourly obs-blood pressure, sats, pulse
and the inevitable blood sugar tests ( I had run out of fingers to prick) poor
old Angus didn't get much sleep.
But the night finally ended, the hourly obs stopped, the
German Reich Fuhrer buggered orf and was replaced by a very nice English lady.
I managed to have a pee, staggered up the corridor to get a
cup of coffee, someone found a remote and life became almost bearable.
Breakfast arrived-cold scrambled eggs, cold hash browns and
a warm coffee, more obs, yet more blood sugar thingies, then I waited from six
of the morn to eleven of the same morn for a medic to arrive to discharge me,
and as buses do four arrived at once, none of them was the Consultant I saw or
either of the organic mechanics but a boss lady two F something's or other and
a pompous, patronising, posh Pratt of a pillock who waltzed in, turned orf the
TV and ordered me to drop my kecks and get on the bed so that he could take a
peek at the old groin.
We had a short discussion about using the weed, which he
lost, and then he minced out shouting instructions to someone about statins and
other stuff.
I was not given any information about post op care, what I could
and couldn't do or what to do if it all went tits up.
The nice English lady came in and said that they had the
stuff I needed in the drugs cabinet and that would save me having to wait
several hours for the pharmacy to deliver them from fifty yards away.
Boxes of stuff in hand I was then allowed to get dressed and
found out that someone had lost my boxers, so I was given a pair of paper
undies to keep me decent.
Then I was taken to the "Patients Lounge" to await
transport back to the Castle, given a cup of tea and waited three hours before
a ham sandwich arrived and I got so fed up with sitting there feeling my groin
swell up that I phoned a taxi and came home.
Now, as I said as this was my first time at Grimly Dark as a
patient I can only report what happened to me.
The nurses, staff nurses and ancillary staff were excellent
but once you got above the front line ranks things were sadly familiar, lack of
care, lack of information, lack of common sense and worse of all lack of
empathy for the patients (me).
Whether I was given a private room because "they"
remembered me from 2005 I don't know, or whether it was just fortune or not is
beyond me, but if it was the first they failed to impress, the system is badly
flawed, no one speaks to anyone else, departments are separate kingdoms, the
"that's not my job" ethic is rife and despite all the money thrown at
it this particular part of the NHS it does not come up to the standards
expected or deserved by the old or the sick who rely on the
"service".
All in all not a satisfying experience, mentioning the
nationalities of the staff involved is not racism, just a hint of how much we
rely on immigration to keep the old girl going and how hard the
"soldiers" work to try to offset the arrogance and ignorance of those
that make the big bucks and sit in their top floor offices whist the patients
spend untold hours of their lives waiting.
So as I sit here contemplating my black plums and the
bruises from arsehole to navel I wonder; would I do it again, or worse what is
in store for me as I stagger even further dahn the road to dotage and the final
reckoning.
Only time will tell......
Angus
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