Donna Matthews

Category: NHS

  • Back to Normal Life

    Well a week post hospital discharge I had my first full night’s sleep. It is amazing how quickly we become institutionalised. For the last week I have been waking up every few hours, even though there was on one standing beside my bed waiting to do my observations. No squeeze of the blood pressure cuff or medication being offered, yet I still kept waking up. I have never been a breakfast person but each morning at 07:00 my stomach was telling me the breakfast trolley would soon arrive. After the first day, rookie mistake, of ordering toast (I still can’t figure out how you can make toast rubbery), I would be sitting up ready to ask for porridge and coffee. The coffee (unlike the rubbery toast) was very good. The next big event on the schedule was ordering lunch and dinner. I made a few choices that ended up in the “I don’t think I will have that again” category but soon learned what the safe choices were.

    Other than meals arriving and obs being taken, the day was interspersed with the tea trolley, pre-lunch and pre-dinner soup offerings. There was the newspaper delivery (your choice of the Daily Mirror or the Financial Times), if you were lucky the book and magazine team would appear. I found myself looking forward to each and every event even if it was just say “yes please I would love a cup of tea” or “no thank you I would not like carrot soup or anything else carrot for hat matter)”. (Carrot cake being the only exception to the list of all things carrot).

    What I haven’t mentioned were the daily rounds made by the medical team and the occasional visit from the cardio team. These particular events in the day were the most unpredictable so you couldn’t set your watch by them but they were always interesting. On day 4 I got a visit from one of the doctors that saw me when I was in A&E. He popped his head around and said “Hi, I’n not sure you remember me but I saw you on your first day.” I did indeed remember him because he brought 3 students with him that day. He went on to say, “I have a favour to ask, could I bring in a group of 4th year medical students to practice taking a patient history?” Eager for additional activity in my regimented schedule I agreed. I had quite a bit of fun with them and made them work to get my information. Then I provided input where I felt they should have asked more questions or dug for more details. This of made the doctor laugh as said “Since Donna has already taken care of my feedback section, we can move on.”

    The “new normal” takes hold so quickly and in a way you don’t even notice. Once out of the hospital you think that settling back in to your “normal” life will happen seamlessly but it really doesn’t. You feel a bit at sea for several days and it can be disconcerting. I can’t imagine what it is like for people who have to spend weeks or months in hospital or any other institution. Hopefully this is my last prolonged hospital stay for a very long time.

  • Day 6 starts with “all change, all change here”

    At about 10 PM on Day 5 we are told that our ward needs to be handed over to the Bed Manager, so they can make room for an influx of male patients. (Obviously not a good day for the guys in the Big Smoke). Immediately we were all told to pack our meagre belongings for an imminent move. Then…nothing happened. The clock on the building across the street ticked on and nada. I fall asleep somewhere around 1:00. At 1:30 the ward turns into Piccadilly Circus at rush hour! Beds are being moved, those areas cleaned to within a inch of their lives (which was nice to see) and then the procession began.

    One by one my ward mates leave for their new digs and I remain. I fall back to sleep at some point only to hear a, far too cheery voice, announce that it is my turn to vacate. When they started the move they told us we were just moving around the corner. So when then started to take me right where everyone else went left I began to wonder what was in store for me.

    Much to my surprise I landed on the 15th floor in a room by myself with a stunning view across London! Watching the sunrise crawl across the city was awesome. Well that is how Day 6 started, let’s see where it takes me.

  • Day 5 of the Unplanned Hospital Visit

    What an experience this has been, so many little stories to pass on. I will try to capture the essence for your reading pleasure. The ward I am on has 5 beds and other than myself there is one other constant fixture, the rest of the beds have been revolving every 8 hours or so. The turn over is pretty fast. A new arrival yesterday morning was a young patient and her mother. How to explain this to give you a good picture…okay think about the guy on Jeremy Clarkson who no one can understand, cross that with the guy from the Vicar of Dibley who always said “yes, yes, yes, no”, got it? Now form a female version of this and you have the mother. For some reason she thinks we are friends and that I want to know everything about her life. Unfortunately she does not understand subtlety so my attempts at thwarting conversation have failed. The only good bit is that I still do not have a clue what she has been telling me! Eye contact is not an essential part of communication for this lady as she has spent numerous minutes talking to the side or even back of my head totally undeterred.

    My other new experience today was to have a CT scan with contrast. Now for those of you who have had regular CT scans without contrast count yourselves lucky. To say that the sensations you are about to experience are “odd” must be the biggest understatement of the new millennium. “Odd” could only be a descriptor used by those who have never undergone the procedure. They do the first set of scans without the said contrast and then you get to to do it all over again once the inject your IV with the “syringe of Hell” Hell is truly the word as it feels like they injected fire into your veins! You feel the burning liquid as it makes a full loop of your circulatory system. Once the loop has completed the next sensation is one of wetting yourself. I cannot explain what was going through my mind at that moment because I was too worried about the apology I was going to have to make once I came out of the scanner. Much to my relief it was only the sensation there was no actual embarrassing accident to apologise for. Until the next instalment take care and when someone tells you something is going to be “odd” watch out!

  • The NHS, How Lucky are We?

    The service that we take for granted far too often. I had an unfortunate health issue late last week and have been treated by the NHS since. I have seen most of the services that make up the NHS. From the Ambulance Service to the A&E team, to the nursing staff and two specialist teams. What can I say other than we are so fortunate to have this incredible organisation to look after us when we are unable to do it for ourselves. The ambulance crew were exceptional, the A&E team were top notch and my nurses on the floor work tirelessly to ensure everyone in their care is given excellent treatment.

    I know it is easy to take this care for granted but when you see the little acts of kindness on top of the day to day heroics it is quite humbling. This morning the machine kicked into gear with the morning routine, meds were dispensed, clean towels were handed out to those who could dress themselves, coffee and tea orders taken (and prepared by the nursing staff so we did not have to wait for the breakfast crew to come around). Breakfast was delivered and the gentleman did not hear me ask for a sugar so one of the cleaning staff who was busy nearby darted after the breakfast man and came back with a packet of sugar and a smile. Not his job but he obviously didn’t care about that he did it because that is who he is.

    The next time someone bad mouths the NHS remember these things. I know not everyone’s experience is the same but they have never let me down and I will always be grateful to these every day heroes.