Heart attack

My Heart Attack

I'm new at this. Well, there's a first time for everything, I suppose. At one time the very thought of a computer would bring me o...

Tuesday, October 05, 2010

Heart, Hospital and Home . . . Part The Third

Sorry to keep you chaps and chappesses waiting to find out the out-come of my stay in hospital, but there's been a weekend since the last post and I haven't really had the time or inclination to write anything further.

 To business. 

I was told that I would need to have a visit from someone from the Cardiology department before any decision could be made as regards my discharge, and nobody could give me any definite time as to when this was likely to be, so I was going to have to endure a further day, at least, just sitting and staring at the four walls of Ward 2. I was hoping that I wasn't going to have to stay in hospital over the weekend, as someone had said that there was a chance that I might not get a visit from Cardiology until Monday.

Carol came back and it was good to have her company. She was told, rather unceremoniosly and rather abruptly by one of the nurses I thought, that she wasn't really supposed to be there, and would need to leave until the correct visiting time. I can't see what the problem was, as she wasn't in the way. I do remember, the last time I was on the C.D.U., there being a woman who seemed to take it upon herself to make life difficult for all and sundry, mostly, any visitors. Carol had nowhere to sit, as there were no chairs near the beds. There was a pile of folding chairs elsewhere on the ward, which were intended for visitors to use. Carol managed to take one and sat near my bed. I think, before you left the ward, as a visitor, you were expect to fold the chair and return it to it's rightful place. Carol forgot, and got told off, in no uncertain terms, by this bossy old woman. Then Carol decided to read my notes and this dragon of a woman shouted across the ward that she wasn't to look at my notes. Why? We are husband and wife. What was her problem? I am fully aware of confidentiality, having worked as a carer, and I wouldn't expect to read anyone else's notes, so what was so bad about Carol reading mine? I read my frequently, but, to be honest, you have to be fairly up in the ways doctors and nurses write things, as it's all in their own style of writing which they seem to have. I have a vague idea of what some of the terminology means, so I don't bother that it's written in unintelligable language. Anyway, that dragon of a woman on the C.D.U. was there this time, although she didn't seem quite as agressive to everyone as she was on my last visit. Perhaps someone has complained and she has toned down her behaviour. It seems that, given some sort of power, some people let it go to their heads. This woman certainly had let it go to her head.

It's no good feeling hungry if you're in hospital. Granted, you don't expect it to be like a hotel, and certainly, as mentioned before, it's not the sort of place for rest and recuperation, as it's so noisy. You aren't always that keen on food if you've been ill (why else would you be in hospital?) so trying to eat can be rather an effort.  But the food can be good or just plain awful. Breakfast consists of a bowl of cereal, a cup of tea and bread and butter. Why not toast and marmalade or jam? As for lunch, or evening meal, you have to decide the day before what you're going to have, as they come round with a sort of menu that you have to tick. I'm not always feeling hungry when I have to choose, so I end up with something really revolting. If you have breakfast too early, then you end up feeling hungry around 10 o'clock. I realise that they have to get breakfast out of the way quickly so that the ward can be tidied before the doctors do their rounds, but does it really have to be so early?

Anyway, let's get to the end of this post. I eventually had my visit from two people from the  Cardiology team at around around 3 p.m. When they arrived on the ward. I was told that I would need to have further tests, and that I would soon get a referral from the department in the post. I was to be put on new medication, isosorbide mononitrate , which works in a similar way to the nitrolingual spray. It's supposed to open up your blood vessels to increase blood flow and help decrease the possibility of a further blood clot. After using the spray I generally get headaches, which would be the result of blood vessels in the brain opening up. It usually goes off after about 15 minutes. I mentioned that I got muscle pain, as a result of using pravastatin. I was told that I could stop taking this medication for a month to try and relieve this side effect. As I write this I have been off it for two weeks and I must say the muscle pain has virtually gone. It seems that whatever you take it has some side effect or other. When I originally was put on statins after my heart attack the medication had the effect of me having flu-like symptoms, and I would only have known this when I spoke to one of the nurses, so I was put on another type of statin. I'm not sure what this original statin was, but I tried several versions, Simvastatin being one of them.

Anyway, I was that the treadmill test hadn't uncovered anything suspicious, and that I was free to go home.

I telephoned Carol to give her the news, and she immediately came back to the hospital. She came in the car, which meant that we would incur a parking fee. It does seem unfair that you have to pay to park your car when visiting hospital. As we live so close to the hospital it seems crazy to use the car as it's just a relatively short walk through the back of the hospital from our home, but she thought I might need a lift home as I wasn't feeling to bright.

It took some while for the discharge paperwork to be completed, and they had to organise my medication. When I was in Bedford Hospital I'm sure I had to pay for my medication when I left, but this time, on leaving Milton Keynes Hospital, I did not have to pay. Then I was told that it wouldn't be ready for a few more hours, so we said that we'd come back in the morning to collect it.

So, we walked out of the hospital and back home in the car. It was nearly three days since I had telephoned 999 and been admitted through Accident and Emergency.

The house was so quiet, apart from Poppy and Alfie running around barking when I walked in, being able to sleep in my own bed again after the noise and confusion of the hospital, sheer luxury!





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