Showing posts with label Hospital. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hospital. Show all posts

Friday 1 February 2019

Not Off To A Great Start


It shouldn’t come as a surprise to me that 2019 is off to a less than perfect start. I’ve said it before, and I meant it, 2019 is going to suck. I didn’t, however, think it would suck this hard, this early on.


On Monday the 21st my mom went it for a routine check-up, it didn’t go well. Her kidney function was down to 8% and a lot of her other stats were not where they should or have been. At this point they tried to admit her. Since my mother is my mother, she told them not a chance that was happening. So, they arrange for her to come back the following morning at 9am, to meet with her team. If you know anything about the NHS, that’s not a good sign, to get a surgeon, doctor, specialist and nurse together, in the same place, with less than 24 hours’ notice is unheard of. And what happened next is even more unheard of. She was told she’d be having surgery at 7am the following day.

We knew she’d have to have surgery again soon due to the cloth is her AV fistula, but nobody was ready for how soon. Like I said the NHS doesn’t move quickly so, this just confirmed to me how bad things were. The surgery went fine, a lot longer than last time. This was down to the blocker they used being inserted into her diaphragm, meaning she was unable to breath on her own. Luckily, she regained the ability the breath unassisted around midnight and they were able to discharge her the next day. She’s at home now, battered a bruised but she’s doing ok.

I, other hand, am all shades of not ok. My only job in all of this is to hold my shit together and I am failing. Tyler said to me, not actually knowing what was going on, it’s ok to fall apart sometimes. And I agree. I have designated failing apart time. I am allowed to fall apart in the shower, in the car on the way home from work and in bed before I fall asleep on non-work days. However, my body doesn’t seem to want to uphold that schedule.

On Tuesday night at work, the day before my mom’s surgery, I was losing it. I held it together, just, on the way in. I kept together as I got everyone out of the office on their jobs. But, around midnight, for no real reason, I started shaking and I could feel the battle was over, I had I couldn’t fight the emotions anymore. At that moment my phone rang, and it was Tyler. I held back what I could and answered the phone. He knew something was up. He offered to listen, but when I couldn't talk about it, he didn’t push to find out what was wrong. He just hung around making jokes where he could.  Shifting my mind off things. I owe him one for that. I wouldn’t have made it through my shift without him.

Anyways, my face is starting to leak and I can’t deal with that right now, so I am going to end this here. I’ll leave with you with this question; how do you hold it together when everything is going wrong? Let me know your thoughts in the comments below and as always. Stay and play safe.

Love,

The Honest Bitch 
xoxo

Saturday 16 February 2013

Ask Stupid Questions

Monday morning I have an appointment at the hospital with another pain management specialist. All was well and good until I got the letter, inside the envelope was a yet another HADS questionnaire. This is the 5th one I’ve had to fill out in a year.

In case you don’t know HADS stands for Hospital Anxiety and Depression Scale. I’m insulted by having to fill out yet another one. It’s like they’re saying “Oh you’re not depressed well you should be.”

The worst part is the way it’s worded everyone sounds depressed but my biggest problem is it says to give your immediate reaction to each statement and oddly enough, my immediate reaction isn’t coved in their options.

“I feel as if I am slowed down” – Of course I do, because I’m actually slowed down!

“I feel restless as if I have to be on the move” – Duh, I have stuff to do and I’m physically slowed down. I feel like I need to be on the move to make up the time I'm losing.

“I get a sort of frightened feeling like “butterflies” in the stomach” – Do you not read my blog? Mr. X killed the butterflies.

“I feel cheerful” – Once again, you don’t read my blog do you?

“I can laugh and see the funny side of things” – Well, I’m mocking you in blog form so I’d say so.

The questions just go on and on. It’s ridiculous. Then there is pain scale page which is stupid because any doctor will tell you, the numbers don’t mean anything. But it did make me laugh because there is a list of the “types of pain” you may be feeling, the list includes; heavy, tiring-exhausting, fearful and punishing-cruel. I said WTF more than once while reading it.

Then the last page looks like an autopsy report. It a picture of a guy from 4 different angles and they want me to colour in and draw arrows on him. All I want to do is give him boobs and some hair.

I hate hospitals but I hate hospital forms more, I guess on the bright side they didn’t ask for my next of kin which makes a pleasant change. Nothing like walking in for a consultation and the first thing they ask you is “who do we contact if we kill you”; Real reassuring.

So that’s my rant over with but what do you hate about hospitals? Let me know in the comment box below. And as always, stay and play safe.

Love,

The Honest Bitch 
xoxoxo

Saturday 12 January 2013

Monster Bitch

I currently look like something out of a damn horror movie! If you follow me on twitter you know I haven’t been well for about a week now but things got bad Monday when I woke up with a high temperature and a rash all over my face. Since I’m a stubborn person I made till Wednesday with the burning, itchy rash and feeling like death before going to the doctors.

I couldn’t get in to see my doctor so I took an appointment with one of the other doctors, when I walked in and she had a look at my face, she was worried so she called another doctor in. It happened to be my actual GP and when he walked in the first words out of his mouth was “Oh my, you don’t look well at all”. How rude I know, I replied back “funny, because I feel fantastic.” After 45 minutes of poking my already painful face they didn’t agree what was wrong. She thought it was cellutis, which would have meant me going into hospital, my doctor thought the rash was secondary to my fever and if they took care of the fever the rash would go. So they gave me a cream and some high dose antibiotics and sent me home.

The next morning I was actually starting to look better and I felt a lot better than Thursday night happened, the house was spinning which lead to me being sick and then around 2am I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror and screamed. My face had gone from scaring small children and the elderly to looking like I just walked off the set of a horror film. My mom took one look me and I was taken to A&E.

It was really strange because I didn’t feel fantastic but I felt a whole lot better than I did Wednesday but my face looked so much worse. When we got there the receptionist almost got punched in the face when she asked what was wrong. Anybody with one eye from 500 feet could tell what was wrong. And I wasn’t in any mood to deal with stupid.

When I finally saw the doctor, she turned out to be a junior doctor and she openly said she had no freaking clue at all what was going on. The registrar didn’t do much better so the poor junior doctor was sent on a mission to find out what it was; after ruling out meningitis and 5 hours of research she failed so they sent me elsewhere in the hospital for some answers and so I couldn’t sue in case they missed something that ended up killing me.

After the blood work and some other tests came back normal, the doctor decided what had happened is I caught the bug that’s going around at the same time I had infection somewhere in my body (which they couldn’t find, my white count was normal) and my body overreacted thinking it was one massive thing instead of two minor things leading to my face being turned into the thing nightmares are made of. Luckily they promise this rash will not leave any scars at all. They better be right! 

The almost funny thing is I should have been at a funeral Friday; that’s not funny I know, the funny part is every time I’m meant to attend a funeral I ended up in hospital luckily this time; no ambulance. People need to stop dying; hospital gowns aren’t the kind of fashion statement I’m trying to make.

Anyways I better listen to the doctors and get some rest, fingers crossed when I wake up I look less monster like. So what’s your favourite monster? Let me know in the comment box below and as always stay safe.

Love,

The Honest Bitch 
xoxoxo

PS I'm playing the I'm sick card on any mistakes in this blog lol

Friday 29 June 2012

Stop Telling Me What I Feel

I’m so sick of people telling me what I feel, between being told what I feel in matters of the heart and now what I feel physically; I’m about to snap and it’s not going to be pretty.

I’m a blogger and I ask for feedback and I love getting it but sometimes it lands in my inbox at precisely the wrong second and that’s what happened this time.

Jimmy over at Personal Facts, sent me a comment and it had some points and I can see where he’s coming from but because of something totally unrelated I beyond lost my cool. And found myself screaming...

“Will people stop telling how I fucking feel, they’re my feelings. I think if anyone should know how I’m feeling it’s me!”

 I flipped out like a small child and it had next to nothing to do with Jimmy and everything to go with physio #4.

I had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting physio #4 Tuesday morning and let’s just say I should really call her psycho not physio.

I was referred to her by physio #3 because his factuality only does evaluations. I saw him over 4 weeks and over that time he sorted out a treatment plan and he seemed to really understand what was happening with my back.

Then I meet with physio #4 and well she didn’t. Instead of doing the normal first time visit stuff she seemed to already have her mind made up on what she was going to do and it wasn’t the plan #3 had laid out. 

She basically said I was fine and it’s all my head, so instead of doing what #3 said, she wanted me to come in 3 days a week and work with the occupational therapy team to build my strength back up.

Needless to say I wasn’t impressed. I understand that pain can be partly metal but there is no way the amount of pain I’m in is in my head. There are days I’m in so much pain I physically throw up, that isn’t in my head. Plus I wouldn’t put myself through the pills and side effects. Hell I’m scared of hospitals I wouldn’t even go to the appointments if I didn’t think it would help.

The biggest proof that #4 is just an idiot is the fact #2 and #3 both said there is something not right with my back. They could feel something was off; they just couldn’t work out what it was. #3 actually used the words “it’s not in your head, something isn’t quite right.” The only reason #2 passed me on was because he wanted to rule out spinal problems because he noticed my spine was a little on the straight side. All things #4 would have worked out for herself is she had bothered to lay a hand on me.

Everything she said was so out of line with what pain management, spinal, #2, #3 and even what my GP has said. I was furious. Who the hell is she to tell me what I feel? It’s my fucking body; I know when something isn’t right. Don’t sit there and tell me I’m crazy, when you’re the one whose opinions don’t line up.

The whole thing had me stressed out because clearly I’m not going to be seeing her again, so I’m a person in pain without a plan or any idea what to do next. I have to give some love to NTB I was stressed for days and he sent me a short message and my tears stopped and I wasn’t nearly as stressed anymore. He’s such a star.

As you can imagine after dealing with #4 telling me I was crazy and that despite being in pain I wasn’t actually in any, Jimmy telling me how I felt about dipshit was; not so much the straw but more like the feather that broke the camel’s back. And I had a wee melt down and put a pretty hole in my door with my now very sore foot.

I’m not sure I was justified but it made me feel much better. We all have those moments we’re not proud of but damn they felt good at the time. The hole in my door was definitely on of those.

What temper tantrum moments have you had, that may have been silly in hindsight but at the time felt heavenly? Let me know in the comment box below (and I promise no melt downs when I read them this time).

I’m just trying to putting the whole thing out of my mind and am focusing on the countdown to Canada Day. I’m so excited just hope the weather and my back cooperates. Anyways as always my dears stay safe.

Love,

The Hones Bitch
xoxoxo