10 days in hospital in A mish mash of entries

The week after taking the Project Management exam, I wasn’t feeling too well; just tummy ache, but it hadn’t improved by Thursday and was hurting more, so I made a doctor’s appointment. In a nutshell – referred to hospital and kept in for ten days. Blocked bile duct which was damaging my liver and lots of gravel in my gall bladder. I was given heavy duty antibiotics and kept in pending blockage removal, which was going to be done with a camera and grabber down my throat. Sort of like the fairground grabber machines – only smaller.

Poor son had to root through my underwear drawer and bring me some clean knickers into hospital. He was most definitely out of his comfort zone doing that and slid the bag over to me as if it contained illegal drugs or something!

I was really lucky in hospital to be bedded next to a totally batty old bag. She was one of those people who says “mustn’t grumble” and then proceeds to whine and moan about everything possible. She asked the nurse if she could borrow a pair of scissors. The nurse must have sussed her out because she asked why.

“I just want to cut the top of my compression stockings because they feel too tight.”

She told me that I should juice ALL of my fruit and vegetables and not eat any solid ones because they’re better for me in liquid form. You see, I can then throw away all the pulp rubbish because it’s just waste and doesn’t hold any goodness. If I do this every day, it will cure cancer. Except I don’t have cancer.

Batty old bag doused herself in White Linen (how 1970’s!) and hairspray several times a day. The ward smelled like a brothel and she insisted on having all the windows closed because she was cold. I never expected to be in hospital and to either choke to death or (preferably) freeze to death.

In addition to wanting to customise her compression stockings, Batty knew better than the medical staff. Twice she judged it was time to remove her cannula and did so, proudly telling the rest of the ward that “I don’t need this catheter no more, I took it out easy”. The nurses truly had saints’ patience with her, although I did see a number of raised eyebrows as they finished dealing with her.

When she found out that I would have to have my gall bladder removed at some point in the future, she told me that I have to watch that they don’t cut into my liver by mistake. Quite how I’m supposed to watch, I don’t know!

She redeemed herself later, however, by telling me she thought I was thirty-something. That one I can live with :).

About this time, I suddenly became pain-free. Now gall bladder pain has been likened to child birth and heart attack pain, so it was a HUGE relief. My body had clearly had enough of Batty and whilst waiting for the grabber procedure had passed the blockage all on its own. This was all confirmed with an MRI scan and after blood tests to make sure my liver was recovered, I was released a couple of days later on a low-fat diet, with just the standard gall-bladder removal operation to be scheduled.

I was given an operation date last September, but I deferred it as I’d only just started my new job. I’ve just rejoined the waiting list again, so sometime this year, I guess. It’s not urgent; it’s all diet controlled, so when it comes around, however long that takes, it shall be done.