The End of Hospitalisation and the start of Convalescence. August 5th 2022

 I have been warned that the BIG panel of doctors will attend this morning. I try to crack a joke which goes down like a lead balloon! but the result is I am allowed to go home , but with the drain still in. Still, I'm used to going home with a drain still in.

 A bowl of cold porridge and a limp piece of white toast is delivered. The paperwork takes about an hour to come through. I am ushered to the "lounge" as I have to vacate my bed for a hundred year old lady. Could I still do this in 30 years time??

Finally I am released into Nurse Duncan's hands, and head home to have an egg on toast for lunch.

On Sunday, the District Nurses arrive. The paperwork involves some personal questions about Do I have Enduring Power of Attorney in place, Do I have an Advance Care plan? These are things to deal with when you are well, and your brain isn't fogged by anesthetic.

I have a follow-up appointment with Stiven on Tuesday, who doesn't say much, and then the visit to my doctor on Friday.

 Here is my Frankenstein scar! complete with 20 metal staples. Some of these are a bit kinked and cause a sudden pin-prick sensation. Lets hope they can all go on Monday and that I don't split myself!. The early arrival of the pollen season has meant that we all seem to be coughing and sneezing.

Sadly I realise that because this seroma is a chronic condition, this could easily happen again. Even though the seroma has been taken out, the "Dead Space" that it forms in is still there.

Thursday, 4th August. All sorts of activities.

 The young Tongan lady goes for her appendix removal, and after rounds, Mararma just has to await her paperwork before discharge. I'm allowed to get the naso-gastric tube out which isn't too bad, and it will be good not to get things like mushroom soup stuck to the tube, which must look a bit like globules of snot. s I am having a little nap when Gail finally gets the go-ahead for the flight to Waikato for her reconstructive surgery. For a while there I am in the only bed in the ward.

The Tongan lady is no sooner back from surgery when the extended family appears, complete with a tray of roast pork from the Roast Takeaways place. Prayer and blessings to accompany. Next an unmedicated diabetic goes in the bed opposite. She is quite grey and sleeps for many hours, which gets her readings down from 20 to 8.6.

I am waiting excitedly to go to see Gaynor, a friend in Ward 8 who had a stroke-like turn after having COVID. But they are very strict about visiting this ward, as it is on the same floor as the COVID ward. Cajin takes me down and clears my visit with the nurses there. Gaynor has a room to herself, a state of the art bed, her own toilet, and has just enjoyed a chicken and salad wrap for lunch. I am so totally ENVIOUS.

I am just heading back under escort of a physio who walks way too fast, when Cajin comes to get me. You just aren't allowed to wander around on this floor.

So I'm just flicking through a magazine when Camille comes up after a day relieving . She brings a bottle of Ginger Beer, which is most welcome.

What an exciting day with all the visiting! Very disrupted night to follow.

Microcosm of society in the spotlight

 Faye Tau Tau was in the same year as Jill. She is my afternoon nurse. She always comes to work, immaculately made up, and her work is neat and precise, and she can multitask. We can always find something to talk about and have a laugh. My morning nurse is Cajin Irwin. She has a wonderful, tender respectful way about her, especially when she has to shower me in the morning. She has just her state exams to go before she is fully registered. Sometimes she just comes in to see how I'm going, and have a chat. I called into the ward supervisor to give her a commendation as I was leaving

In the bed opposite is Marama. She is a highly respected Coast identity, now working on Maori Initiatives for the curriculum for the Department. Her son is Nehe Millner Skudder, who was an All Black until his shoulder was ripped away and a botched operation followed. The biggest battle was to get this acknowledged by the Rugby Union and allow a competent person to do a reconstruction. We talk about teaching, Coach Foster, and how Sam Cane's brain looks like its on the blink, also people we know in common. Her partner is in charge of the East Coast Roads and as another deluge falls, more slips fall, bridges fall, things get a bit tense.

Gail is diagonally across and she was injured some years ago in a head on fatal crash on the Matata Straight. Unfortunately her repairs have collapsed  and now one leg doesn't work anymore. They fly her to Waikato. She is extremely worried about the flight, and Asks "How will I get aboard the plane???" I tell her "When I was very sick, they used a forklift". Everyone laughs - some in disbelief.

On the last night we have a a very damaged young teenager take Gail's bed. She is crying, weeping with stomach pains for which no cause appears to be found yet. She is too frightened to have the light turned out, so it glows all night.

In the room next door we have another lady with dementia, she won't allow anyone to touch her and wails "Help Me, Help me" while the nurses give her what care they can.

The doctors are fleeting, but it is reassuring to see they have quite a large panel of them. My operation is on Tuesday afternoon and goes extremely well, and I look forward to having a some food. Unfortunately my nasogastric tube gets in the way, and it aches to try and hold it to the side. Soon after I have eaten then come and aspirate the icecream and jelly out of my stomach, so that it doesn't pass onto the bowel too soon.

I never ever get the food I've ordered. The urn tea is undrinkable and the milo comes pre-sugared. Cajin brings me peppermint tea from the nurses station when she can.

Just being able to have a teaspoon would have made a huge difference.

Ward Life - Beds for 4 or more

 Once I was up in the ward the surgical nurses came to insert the naso-gastric tube. The right nostril was a no-go, but left my soft palette very sore. I was very brave as we tried the left nostril and with a little bit of gagging I managed to get it down to my stomach. Then all the contents from my stomach (mainly bile at this time) came up the tube and out through my nose and into a bag. It's pretty revolting, but with the demented lady in the corner having a little accident,  I didn't feel too much in the spotlight. Sadly I have the worst bed in the ward - next to the loo, which I don't really need to use at present.

There was a young woman in the bed next to me with an abscessed tooth, and she and her boyfriend were lying on the bed watching a very crude, violent and loud video on a tablet. The language is appalling, but it was the loud and raucous sex scene which completed the movie which got those two giggling and pashing - and this continued long after the movie had ended. My worst fears of what had gone on were confirmed after the aides came to strip the sheets.

They are cleaning up the mess from the demented lady and as she wont keep her DEPEND pants on, moving her to a secure room, so she doesn't spread it about.

The gap in the room is filled late into the evening with someone in excruciating pain. My drip keeps getting Knocked out of kilter and going BING BING BINg... For a while, they turn it off - which given I am very dehydrated is probably not a good idea About 1 am they change it for another one.  The  morphine is very attacking with dark and ugly things.

A couple of nights later the bed next to mine has a young Tongan lady in it. She asks up front, Can she have a room on her own as she wants her husband to stay with her for the night. The staff courteously deny this request. However the next morning the husband reappears and she tells the nurse that her husband is going to help her shower. As I've already said, my room is next to the bathroom, and both of them came out freshly washed and giggling away. What is this? Hospital or Hotel???

The new nurse on in the morning is sick of my drip misbehaving - but I get the blame for moving my arm - even though it is laid out on a pillow. She comes back with plaster and scissors and wants to tape my arm to the bed rail. Fortunately I can point to the Allergy band on my wrist and declare myself allergic to the plaster. A third drip is tried. Good. Now all we need is to be able to get the obs machine to work and tell me what my blood pressure is. Low due to dehydration.

A Bad Week

 I sat down last Saturday to write a BLOG entitled Not Such A Good Week, but the projectile vomiting called a halt to that. It all began Sunday week ago when we went to go to Elvis, but when we arrived at the theatre  - and me in my blue suede shoes - we were told that Elvis had left the building! In fact, the theatre was full!! never mind we had a lovely meal at Portofino.

I upped my swimming to 20 lengths on Monday, and then we took the snatches of fine weather to continue our farm work. On Tuesday, we were just sitting down after a busy morning when Sandie rang to say that she could help with a harvest that afternoon, so off we went but I felt decidedly unwell after doing some raking and had to let them finish off. After a wee rest I was ready to go to book club, at Teressa's which was very enjoyable.

More wet weather, and Duncan got the big mower bogged down, and then got the car bogged down, however we were saved by using a pair of his old pyjamas wedged under the tires which were very slick with mud. We were covered in mud, and I resorted to a bath - the shower nozzle in our ensuite would not turn off, and we had had to get the plumber to cap it as there are no parts in Gisborne (sigh).  A quick meal was called for, so I got a packet of butter chicken mix which said Use BBQ chicken or fresh breast meat. It didn't say whether to cook the chicken, so I didn't. Hence my conviction that I had food poisoning.

On Friday I felt pretty seedy, and when the car got bogged down again, I referred Duncan to the AA. Fortunately the AA man was extremely jolly, reporting many instances like this all over  Gisborne. The vomiting started on Saturday, and Sunday was a bit of a blur. On Monday I rang our practice nurse, and she said it did sound like foodpoisoning, but set me up with a phone appoint with the doctor at 3pm. At about 1pm I had a phone call from Dan, our doctor to say he had fast tracked me through to the Medical Team and I should go to ED immediately. Suspected bowel blockage rather than food poisoning. Which was a shame as Margaret our nurse had suggested iceblocks, and I was enjoying them!

Well, it wasn't really FAST track, but I think it was faster than usual. After scans, xrays, bloods it was up to the ward.