A Tropical Heatwave

Wednesday. 6.55 a.m. Bright and sunny again. Apparently, the weather is going to get hotter as the week progresses.

Students at Magdalen College in Oxford have voted to have portraits of H.M. Queen from various facilities removed within their college because they are considered colonial and racist. Do those students not realize that their college was probably established on the proceeds of slavery? We're back on 'cancel culture', which is attempting to remove all mention of colonial or slavery within society, whether it's statues of those who had a connection in some way or other, the first removal of a statue of some historic figure was Edward Colston in the city of Bristol.

Andrew Lloyd-Webber has said that he is quite prepared to go to prison if he can't reopen his West End theatres from 21st June, and to do so without social distancing being in place if the government doesn't restore further restrictions. He says he has scientific proof that the coronavirus isn't spread within a theatre setting. Mind you, I wouldn't fancy going to a theatre and being in the audience if I need to wear a mask. There is no evidence that they make a great deal of difference to being either infectious or spreading it to other people. You would have to wear a clean face mask and also one which is of a certain standard to be of any use to you. It is unlikely that people have clean masks and use them when there of this standard. As it is, when I wear one for any length of time, breathing in my hot breath can be really unpleasant and cause me to cough and it steams up my glasses. I reckon some people only wear them because they give them a sort of feeling of safety, even though it might be misguided. It seems odd that you can fly off on holiday in an aeroplane and be crammed in with other passengers (presumably full social distancing etc etc.), yet you can't go and sit in a well ventilated theatre and enjoy seeing a live performance (this includes other forms of performance, such as ballet, opera, rock music etc etc.) It does seem contradictory to my way of thinking and it doesn't show much sympathy for the performing arts by this government who just don't take it seriously, considering how much they earn for the economy. It's not just the actors and performers who have been put out of work due to lockdown, it's the ancillary jobs that have been effected, such as the wardrobe staff, hire companies who provide costumes and props, scenic builders, make-up, lighting and not forgetting stage management and front of house The there's the whole host of businesses which rely on people going to the theatre who go to restaurants, pubs and bars, or spend money in shops and tourist sites.  The same could be said of our thriving television and film production which is going on at the moment, and only just coming out of lockdown throughout the country. We seem to be very good when it comes to attracting big blockbuster films into Britain and using our facilities, such as Pinewood, Shepperton and Elstree Studios and all the ancillary jobs that go with the making of films, special effects, set building, lighting etc etc. So, if they are  restricted too heavily by lockdown, then that area of the economy is effected, not just financially, but their personnel are effected by mental as well as physical health problems.

Thursday. 4.45 a.m. I'm up out of bed. Alfie is in his bed near the window. I'm not sure if he's asleep, but he's happy curled up there. I have all the windows open in the flat. I have the kitchen door wedged open and with the windows open there is a through draught and as a result the kitchen is cooler by quite a considerable amount of degrees, so much so that I can go in there without it being like a sauna. I will leave the windows open as long as this heatwave goes on. I also have the tower fan on in the lounge.

Yesterday I did another market research session on Zoom for an agency I am signed up for, a focus group discussing ideas for a new television commercial. I won't mention any more as I have to be careful what I discuss away from the focus group. It's interesting being able to influence how something like a commercial before it goes into production. In the middle of all this my MacBook decided to turn itself off. For no good reason I can think of, and this has never happened before. It may have been to upgrade itself, although this usually happens after I have had a warning. I could not get it to start up immediately, so I had to transfer the Zoom session onto my iPad. I don't want to loose out on this sort of work as it pays well enough and the earnings are going into my savings account. I have decided to close the Metro account and transfer to one with the Nationwide, as my main bank is there. In fact, I have been with them for over 20 years. It means I can transfer money between accounts. The interest is virtually non-existent , but the money is really only there to separate it from the main current account. I managed to set up  this new account via the internet and I will go into the Metro and close that account and move the remaining cash in that account to the Nationwide savings account.

Appointment at Cardiology Department at the John Radcliffe

(Thursday) It's quite mild this morning, compared, at least, to what it's been over the past couple of days. A few days ago I woke to fog as I peered out of the bathroom window as I was shaving, but this cleared gradually as the day progressed.

I was booked to have an appointment at the Oxford Heart Centre Outpatient and Echocardiology Department at the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford this morning. Try saying that in a hurry. I must say it's a bit of a mouthful, and I would feel sorry  for anyone working there if they had to answer the telephone to anyone who rang that department and you were expected to say all that!

I drove to the Oaktree Centre, home of Shenley Christian Fellowship, to meet Dave, who was going to drive me to Oxford. I got there in good time, at around 9.15. It shouldn't take more than an hour to get to Oxford, driving out through Buckingham, taking the route I know well because Carol and I always seemed to be going somewhere or other in that direction, probably visiting a Naional Trust property, Stowe Lanscape Gardens being the nearest to Buckingham. We got to the John Radcliffe with pelnty of time to spare before I was due for my appointment, but there was the thorny problem of parking Dave's car. On arrival we had to endure sitting in a queue of vehicles entering the hospital campus. As time was ticking on slowly and there was no sign of finding a carpark, I decided to get out of the car and walk to the reception at the hospital entrance and then text Dave to let him know where I was and then meet up again in the Marks and Spencer cafe near the entrance. It's such a big hospital, almost like a town in itself. So, I walked to reception and got directions to the department my appointment was in.

I got to the Heart Centre and showed the young man on the reception desk and he signed me in and it was then a question of sitting down in the waiting area and, well, what else do you generally do in a waiting area, but wait? A good deal more spacious than the Cardiology department at Milton Keynes hospital. The decorating is a lot more imaginative, not the standard colours, usually white, and far fewer posters. The John Radcliffe seems so much more spacious, the corridors are wider. Is it because Milton Keynes hospital was built on the cheap? It always seems to me that it looks as if the buildings were prefabricated and now, some 40-odd years after it was built, looks a bit shabby. I know they've built a brand new entrance with a Costa inside, but it still looks cheap. I know the money should go on the actual care and treatment of the patients, but the buildings do have an air of sort of run down.

Nobody wants to give anyone eye-contact in these waiting areas. Stare straight ahead and avoid anyone's gaze. I found they had some interesting magazines I would have liked to read, the Royal Academy magazine. Goodness! Something intelligent. Not the usual ancient editions of Reader's Digest, or, usually, women's magazines, or those which are about the goings-on of 'celebrities.' It wasn't long before I was ushered into a side-room by a male nurse and he did some measurements of my height and weight and blood pressure. All quite normal. I then went back to sit in the waiting area once I had finished and it was around a ten-minute wait before a consultant came out of his room with a clipboard in hand and called out my name.

It would appear that I'm doing alright, regarding my heart-health. I was asked if I had had any further angina attacks, to which my answer was, no, I haven't. I'm generally feeling fine. I did say that I got tired easily and I asked if it was likely to be any of my medications, and, if so, could anything be changed, and was told that possibly it was the beta-blockers, the bisoporlol, so I might be able to stop taking that medication. It would be helpful to not get so tired. I want to do a whole day at Camphill, because at the moment I only do three hours, finishing at noon. The consultnt said that he would write to my doctor as well as sending me a copy, and suggest I stop taking the bisoprolol. There are no other problems or complications. I asked if it was possible I could feel one of the stents when I lay on my side in bed at night. There was a possibility that I could. Since having the stents fitted I haven't had any angina pain. Nothing else to report and that was the end of the consultation. I did ask if there was a possibility that any further appointments could be conducted at the cardiology department at Milton Keynes hospital, as it would be more convenient, as it's only a 10-minute walk away from my home, and he said that it would be fine. It's just a long way to go for what was only a 15-minute appointment and I don't have any serious health issues, otherwise I would have to go back to the John Radcliffe. I left the department, texting Dave that the appointment was over and we met up in the Marks and Spencer cafe and I had a sandwich and a drink and we went back to his car and we drove home to Milton Keynes.

Volunteering at Camphill

I've been volunteering at Camphill, as I think I've mentioned in an earlier blog post. I'm working with the drama workshop group, and at the moment I'm doing a few hours on a Tuesday morning. I'm aware that, due to my heart-health issues, I get very tired and by 2 o'clock I am beginning to feel wiped out. I hope to discuss this with my cardiologist when I go for my follow-up appointment on 2nd May, which will be four months after the stent procedure which was done at the John Radcliffe in Oxford. I have got someone from church who will take me. I had considered driving there myself, but  I think it's going to be quite stressful having to drive all the way to Oxford and find a parking space at the hospital. As the appointment is at 11 o'clock there are likely to be no spaces in the carpark, and I had thought perhaps I could park in one of the park-and-ride carparks which ring Oxford and then take the bus to the hospital, but even then it's going to be quite stressful getting to the JR on time for the appointment. So, after this appointment I hope they might either reduce the dosage of some of my medication, such as the atarvostatin which I take at night. I have a feeling it's this particular medication which makes me feel so tired and it causes some side effects, such a stomach and muscle cramps. There again, they might change some of my other medications. Just have to wait and see. It's somewhat annoying that I have to go all the way to Oxford, because the Milton Keynes Hospital Cardiology department is a mere 10-minute walk from this house.

Camphill are going going to do a disclosure because I am working with a vulnerable group of adults with learning disabilities. I have taken all the identification material with me so that the disclosure paperwork can be sent in.

We were discussing various things before we did several hour's of rehearsal for the 'Stranger Danger' play and planning for the next production which is going to be loosely based on Robert Louis Stephenson's 'Treasure Island,' which is one of my all-time favourite books and has to probably be one of the best children's adventure stories ever written. I can't wait to see how this develops, as we were discussing having songs in it, so it's likely to be more like a mini musical than a straight play.

Later. Goodness! The weather has changed. For the worse it would appear. As I write this,  at 5.20 p.m.it's raining. I couldn't believe how hard it's raining.  It's running down the road outside in a torrent, almost like a mountain stream. It has been clear and bright most of the day, although it was quite mild earlier. No frost on the car windscreen first thing when I went out with Alfie at around 6.20. But it clouded over during the afternoon and I thought it was going to rain and it got colder so I put the central heating back on. I have 'Pointless' on television as I write this. It has to be one of the more intelligent of the current crop of television gameshows. Gets you thinking.

I'm amazed. Twice in one blog post. Is this a record? Probably not. But the Christmas tree, which we bought a good three years ago from Dobbies and was potted in a rather splendid pot we got in Homebase (I think it was called something else at the time, but has since returned to being Homebase. How odd is that?) Anyway, it's started showing signs of growth, lots of little green shoots. It appeared as if it had died, probably due to the heatwave we had last summer. It has what look like scorch marks on some of the branches, but it has obviously decided to perk up and continue to grow. It was intended that it could be moved indoors for the Christmas period, but didn't last year due to the passing of my lovely Carol. I wasn't here for the festive period. I spent nearly two weeks with my daughter, Chloe, and her ever-growing family, in Worcester. But to have this Christmas tree growing again is somewhat good news. I kept it fed with plant food and it obviously paid off.

Second Stent and Third . . . Possibly

If you read my blog posts on a regular basis, you will know that after I had my heart attack at the beginning of September I was taken to the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford when I had a stent inserted. I then had to go for a scan using what is called a 'Gamma Camera,' which showed that I had some damage to my heart and a blockage which needed treating with a further stent. I was booked to have this procedure done on 12th December and had arranged to be taken by someone from church, but this was the day after Carol passed away and when I arrived at the unit at the hospital in Oxford I was in something of a state because of Carol's passing and the procedure was postponed. The new date was offered, for yesterday, 30th January.

The procedure I was about to have is called a Percutaneous Coronary Intevention (PCI).

I had to be at the Cardiac Angiography Suite (which is part of the Cardiology Department at the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford) for 7.30a.m. So Tim O'Brien (who was driving me there).) arrived at 5.45a.m. to make sure we arrived at the hospital in good time. As it turned out we were there by a little after 7.a.m. Fortunately, because of the abortive appointment, we knew exactly where to go and could park the vehicle on the lay-by directly outside. I was let into the waiting area and so had to wait until the unit was officially open.

People began to arrive. Around 7.30 one of the nurses came in and told us we could go through to the ward. I began to change into a hospital gown. I find these garments difficult because you have to tie do up the ties at the next and lower on your back. You really need someone to do it for you, but I eventually managed. I had bought a bag with my things in it. I was told I needed to bring a dressing gown and slippers. Which was just as well, because I didn't fancy wandering around the ward in that hospital gown because they have no back and you need to tie them up tightly otherwise you reveal all and sundry if you're not careful. Then it was just a question of waiting (which you seem to do a great deal of in a hospital, which I can testify to with some authority over the last year-and-a-half or probably more.)

A nurse came to ask me questions about my health, for example, did I have any allergies, was I diabetic, as well as going through my medications. I had bought the entire lot of medications and he went though it all and made a list. Then, the usual 'obs' were done, (observations), temperature, blood pressure etc etc. This is done at regular intervals when you are in any hospital.

Patients were coming and going, some in wheelchairs, others on beds which were trundled about by nurses and porters. People went off to have their procedures. I wasn't long before I was taken into the lab (not an operating theatre.) I had to have a catheter inserted in my right arm. I'm not much good with needles or other sharp items, particularly if they are inserted into my person, at times such as this or when giving blood, but they managed to do this. All part of the preparations necessary before the procedure can be carried out.

Then it was my time to be taken into the lab for the procedure sitting in a wheelchair. I'm not sure whether it was the same 'lab' as the one I was in for the first stent to be inserted after my second heart attack. There was a long, narrow bench or bed which I at first sat on and then laid down on. A series of monitors overhead and a range of what looked like cameras or perhaps they were X-ray machines, because the team who would do the procedure were viewing my arteries and veins on the X-ray monitors so as to find where the blockages in my heart were which were to be opened up by the stent during the procedure.

I was given a local anathesthetic in my right arm (which was laying on the edge of the bed.) Because I had become somewhat stressed by the whole process I was also given a sedative to help me get through the procedure.

It was rather uncomfortable having my right arm put into a somewhat difficult and unusual position. I could barely feel a thing as the procedure continued. Quite a few people in the room, but I kept my eyes tightly closed throughout. I think there was a sort of sensation as the stent was pushed through a vein in my arm and into my heart. The whole process lasted around 45 minutes. At the end I was told I could sit up, but, due to the sedation, I was not able to do this myself and required assistance from one of the nurses. I was then able to lay on the bed in the ward and after about an hour or more was taken up to the ward where I had a single en-suite room. A good deal larger than the room Carol had in Milton Keynes hospital and with a good deal more room to store clothes and personal belongings.

I was expecting to be discharged fairly quickly. I had intended phoning or texting Tim so that he could come back to the hospital to collect me for the journey home, but I was then told that I would need to stay over-night. I rang Tim more or less immediately because I didn't want him waiting around in Oxford unnecessarily. He told me that he probably wouldn't be able to come back to collect me the next day, so I began to enquire as to busses or taxi cabs into the centre of Oxford as I had thought my only alternative transport would be to catch an X5 bus back home to Milton Keynes from the Oxford central bus station, which was how we had often visited Oxford in the past. I was also told that I wouldn't be able to drive for a week. No problem there. It would mean I wouldn't be able to do any shopping. That is, to drive anywhere in order to do shopping. But then it occurred to me that this wasn't actually a problem because I could do an on-line shopping order with Sainsbury's and have the order delivered. No need to lift anything, particularly with my right hand which was where the wound for the stent was. At that time, tightly bandaged and taped.

I had a ham sandwich to eat some time after I had the procedure. It was just as well I had that to eat because I wasn't supposed to eat anything after 4a.m. I had a meal as I usually do at home at 6p.m., so it was a long time to wait for food and my the time I was done with the procedure I was hungry. Then I was told that I would be moving to a ward upstairs and this move was done fairly promptly. So I was taken to the Cardiology ward and had an ensuite room. A good deal larger than the one Carol had when she was in Milton Keynes hospital. I noticed how quiet it was, too.

I was seen by a doctor and told that I ha actually had more than one stent fitted during the procedure. The wound on my right wrist seemed to be healing quickly, there was no bleeding or redness. As it was tightly bandaged and taped (with that adhesive tape which is very tacky and when they come to take it off it's so sticky it almost takes your skin with it!) I had the obligatory ECG done which showed no problems with my heart and I knew I would then have to spend the night at the John Radcliffe until I was discharged in the morning or whenever the doctors did their ward rounds.

I had an evening meal. I will say one thing: the food at the John Radcliffe is  good deal better than you get as a patient at Milton Keynes hospital.

So, I spent a relatively good night. None of the noise you usually get on a hospital ward. I felt sorry for Carol having to endure screaming and dreadful noise when she was on the various wards at Milton Keynes hospital. Even the staff were quiet, not talking and keeping me awake. I suppose having a room to myself did help, but in all honesty I think I prefer to be on a ward with other people and enjoy having conversations with other patients, but I shouldn't complain. At least I had my own toilet which meant I didn't have to go gar, although things were impeded because I had a heart monitor affixed to my person and a little later I had to have a saline drip, which was on a wheeled stand which I had to push around if I needed the toilet. The drip was because I had a dye put in my veins so that they could see clearly what they were doing during the stent procedure. The drip was for four hours.

In the morning I had breakfast at 8 o'clock and the usual obs were done and eventually a doctor came at around 10-11 and I was told I could be discharged. It all depended on the relevant paperwork being ready as well as any new medication I was to be put on. I was originally told it could be 'lunchtime,' but then I was told 'late afternoon.' I wasn't sure how I was going to get home. I had decided I would need to get a bus from Oxford bus station, the X5, which goes through Oxford to Cambridge, stopping at Bicester, Buckingham and Milton Keynes on the way. As I have a bus pass I wouldn't have to pay. Carol and I had used it on several occasions when we'd visited Oxford and when we didn't want the bother of driving and then having to find a carpark, although we usually used the Park and Ride system which made life easier.

I then got a text from Tim to say he had managed to reorganise himself and he would be able to come back and collect me, which was a relief as I wasn't keen on using the bus because I wasn't certain what would happen if I had a problem with the wrist wound, whether it would bleed and what I would do if that happened. I just needed to be able to text him or phone him once I was certain that everything was done, including the medication and the paperwork before I let him know so he could drive over from Milton Keynes (which takes at least and hour and a quarter.)

I got a visit from the pharmacist who went through my medication (I had taken all my proscribed medication with me.) and I was even given some which was at the point of running out, which meant I didn't have to put in a repeat prescription when I returned to Milton Keynes.) Even the paperwork was complete which meant I could ring Tim. I was at last able to go home. So, at around 4.30 Tim texted to say he had arrived on the hospital campus. I was taken down stairs to street-level by one of the nurses and Tim arrived and I was able to leave. The journey back to Milton Keynes was relatively stress-free, apart from a built up of traffic on the A34, basically because it was, by now, home-going time for most people and we arrived back in Eaglestone at around 6.30-7.00. The house was cold because the central heating hadn't been on for well over 24 hours and it took me a while to get it set up to warm the house.

Difficult Post

I haven't posted on here for well over a week, which, if you are a regular reader of my ramblings in this blog, will not have surprised you. The reason is that my lovely wife, Carol, passed away on 11th December. The last 18 months or so have been a really traumatic journey, from the original diagnosis, through 12 completed cycles of chemotherapy, the infection she got after the final chemo cycle, the hospitals stays (I've lost count of how many she had.), but throughout I have gone with her for each consultants appointment, chemo cycle in the oncology department at Milton Keynes University Hospital, consultant's appointments at the Churchill Hospital in Oxford, Endoscopy, M.R.I. and as  well as C.T. scans, then to Willen Hospice and finally, Castlemead Court in Newport Pagnell.

I have been supported throughout all this by members of Shenley Christian Fellowship, particularly our Pastor, Ross Dilnot, who was with me on the morning of Carol's death. He came with me when I went to the Registry Office to register the death, which we did last Friday morning and then to Mason's, the undertaker's in Newport Pagnell to arrange the funeral, which will be at 2 p.m. on 11th January at Crownhill Crematorium.

I was supposed to have had a second stent fitted the following day, 12th December, at the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford. I was driven there by Tim O'Brien who is a member of S.C.F. There was no way I could drive, and I was supposed to get to the hospital department by 7.30a.m. Also, I was told that I would not be able to drive after the procedure. I was on the morning list, so I'd be finished and ready to come home around midday.

But, unfortunately, I had a bit of a meltdown. I should have cancelled the procedure, but it was barely 24 hours since Carol had passed away. So I discussed this with one of the nurses and explained that I was feeling depressed over Carol's passing. She understood and suggested they postpone the procedure. Then one of the doctors came to talk to me and said that there was no immediate emergency regarding the procedure and it could be postponed until sometime in January. Hopefully after the funeral. The doctor had to ring Tim on his mobile because he had gone off to park in a park-and-ride carpark with the intention of going into the centre of Oxford until I was finished after the procedure. Everyone understood that what I have been going through was traumatic and emotional enough and that it wouldn't have been appropriate for me to go ahead with the procedure.

This is a shorter-than-usual post, for me, at least. It was really difficult to write. It has actually taken a few days to put into words what's been happening, but now I've completed it. It's going to be a difficult couple of weeks as you can imagine.

Second Stent

As a result of the myocardial perfusion imaging test, which was done at the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford a couple of months ago (described in great detail in an earlier blog post on here.) I have been booked in to have a second stent fitted next Wednesday, 12th December. I have to be at the hospital for 7.30a.m., and I'm being taken by someone from church who has kindly offered to drive me there. I couldn't have driven myself, for one thing, I don't think the stress of the journey there at that hour would help, and, secondly, I wouldn't be able to drive back home because of having a local anaesthetic as well as other drugs and the possibility of the wound that would be made when the stent was fitted. I had a telephone call from the hospital yesterday morning to tell me I'm on the morning list, which means the procedure should be done at some stage during that morning. I have to remain in bed for at least two hours afterwards and can then be discharged. I did wonder whether I would need to stay in hospital overnight, but not this time, fortunately.

As with this sort of thing, it's the waiting which is the worst part. I don't generally like needles, giving blood and all that sort of thing. I have explained things regarding this in an earlier blog post. When I had my second heart attack in early September this year, I was rushed off to the John Radcliffe and there was talk of 'stents' on the ambulance as we drove at speed towards Oxford, but at that time I didn't really think of what was going to happen. Little did I realise, once I arrived, I would be in the operating theatre (I don't think it's actually referred to as that, but never mind) and having a stent inserted in a vein in my right arm. Not a lot of time to think about it, really and truly.

It's been a really wet and windy day today. I took Alfie out for his walk as usual, but I had to put my waterproof jacket with hood on before venturing forth. It had been kept in the back of the car for such an eventuality, so I had to nip out and get it before taking Alfie out. We didn't do the full circuit of Eaglestone Park, because he was getting soaked (not surprisingly), so I decided to cut across the park and make a short-cut back home. He shook himself, as dogs do, to try and get rid of the rain from his coat.

Carol not in a good state when I visited her this morning. (Friday) She's given so much pain relief that she's really out of things a lot of the time. I helped give her breakfast, which was porridge. I would never have believed that I would be feeding my wife in a care home bed. I have mentioned in some of these posts how I worked as a Support Worker for people with learning disabilities, working mostly in homes around Bedfordshire, mainly those run by the N.H.S. as well as being a Home Carer in and around Milton Keynes, but it would never have occurred to me that I would be caring for my wife in such an environment as that. I don't think that she even knew I was there this morning. She was talking some of the time, but not a lot of it was exactly lucid. She was going on about 'The Boys.' I thought she meant her sons, Daniel and Sam, but then I thought, perhaps she means Eddie and George, our grandchildren. She thought they were visiting, but they're not scheduled to visit. She wasn't sure what time it was, and forgot she had breakfast. This whole situation is really difficult. She prefers to lie on her left side, which had been decided when she was at Willen Hospice, but for some reason at Castlemead, the carers had her in bed, lying flat on her back. I said that I didn't want to mention this, but I had to when they came into the room and so they managed to roll her onto her left side, with pillows to prop her up. They told me that they were only doing what Carol wanted, but it seemed to me that at the moment she was really unable to explain properly. Not that I want to interfere but I do want her to have the best or at least what will make her more comfortable. I know that they've managed to get the pain under control, but do at least make sure she's comfortable in bed. She wanted to get out, which she had done at Willen, and managed to sit on the edge of her bed and, with some help, walk a short distance around the bed. But a nurse came in and said that she ought to stay in bed. 

New Cardiology Appointment and other Matters

(Saturday)I have had a letter today from the Cardiology Department at Milton Keynes Hospital giving me an appointment there on 24th December at 3.35p.m. I'm somewhat surprised that I would have such an appointment on Christmas Eve, or at least, that late in the day. It says that more procedures and tests may be done and may take up to three hours. Which would take things up to about 6 or 7 o'clock by which time you would assume they would be closing for the Christmas period. It does make sense to have my care looked after from Milton Keynes and not the John Radcliffe in Oxford. They did the Perfusion Test there simply because that procedure can't be done at Milton Keynes because they don't have the gamma camera that John Radcliffe has. The scans from the tests done two weeks ago can easily be sent over to Milton Keynes, making life easier for me if I don't have to have the inconvenience of the journey to and from Oxford when the Cardiology Department at Milton Keynes is a mere ten-minute walk from our house.

(I'm writing less on this blog as you may have noticed. I'm writing something each day and then posting it when I have enough material to make it worthwhile publishing it, so don't expect a long piece every day. So there may be a week's worth of stuff in one post.)

2.00p.m. I've been walking to the hospital for the past few days. Apart from anything else, it's good exercise and it's a mere 10-minutes to the hospital. It also saves me around £4.50 in parking tickets so that's £9 over two days, depending, of course, how long I remain on the ward.  But then I saw that the barrier at the exit to the carpark near Cardiology was stuck in the upright position, so you could get out without the need of a parking ticket and no need to pay. Never mind. It's a bright and sunny day and actually really pleasant walking along with the sun shining through the trees onto the path.

Carol feeling somewhat down today. Still in a lot of pain. Although her temperature has come down slightly. I hope this is a good sign and that it comes down to it's correct level and it's a sign that the infection is under control. We will hopefully know more when the doctors come round the ward tomorrow at some time.

We had Holy Communion with one of the chaplains on the ward this morning, which was really nice. We've met all of the hospital chaplains now. Because I didn't go to church this morning, because of a worry that I might catch the bug that is currently going round, it was great to have some sort of worship time, even though not the same as we have at Shenley Christian Fellowship.

Monday. 8.00 a.m. I took out Alfie as usual round Eaglestone Park. Alfie as excited as ever. He met up with the three dogs being walked by the lady we keep on meeting. Alfie wants to be friends but they don't seem in the least bit interested. Alfie barks at them, but no ball-game with these dogs. A shame.

The Human Resources lady from Milton Keynes Academy telephoned early this morning and wanted to know how she was. She wanted to visit and needed to know what the ward visiting hours were. I wasn't entirely sure, but assumed it was from 2 to 8 p.m. When I eventually arrived on the ward at around 10 o'clock I found Carol fast asleep and was going to tell her that the lady was going to visit at some point. Carol continued to sleep until around 11, and then a bit after two of the HR ladies arrived, with a card signed by everyone in Carol's department along with some fruit, some plums and strawberries. They stayed for about 20 minutes. I think Carol was pleased to see them and hear about how things are going at the Academy.

Yes, I forget. It's my birthday, but I don't make an issue of it. Just a pity Carol isn't at home to share cake or something. I just want her home from hospital so we can at least get out of the house and visit somewhere pleasant, Woburn Abbey, Whipsnade or Waddesdon for example. Or even one of the lovely garden centres we visit on occasion, to have coffee and a pastry for example.

Tuesday. I'm taking Alfie to the groomer's for a 1 o'clock appointment today, so I will have to leave the hospital at around midday to get  to Pets At Homet, at the retail park in Bletchley.

We had a meeting with one of the doctors which is managing Carol's pain, along with one of the Macmillan nurses in the palliative care team. They are finding ways to change Carol's care to find some sort of distraction so that she doesn't have to concentrate so much on the pain. It makes sense to me.

I took Alfie to The Groom Room at Pets At Home at Bletchley, as mentioned above. I left in good time to arrive outside at 12.50 so that I could take him in to be groomed in plenty of time.

The newly-clipped Alfie, straight back from the

grooming parlour this afternoon

Whilst Alfie was in being groomed, I went into the nearby branch of Gregg's and got a roll and a drink and went to sit in the car to eat it. I spent the next hour and three-quarters wandering into some of the shops, including the nearby Matalan store, although I wasn't over-impressed by what I saw.

I eventually went back to collect Alfie from the Groom Room at 2.45. He was so pleased to see me, looking so much better for being clipped. You can now see his face without all that hair in the way and the nasty mess that builds up under his eyes has gone. I took him out of the store, barking madly and we drove home.

Myocardial Perfusion Imaging Test At John Radcliffe

I've mentioned that I had a Myocardial Perfusion Imaging Test procedure booked at the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford today. (Monday) I was taken by James, a good friend at Shenley Christian Fellowship. He wasn't due to pick me up until 12 midday as the procedure was at 2p.m. and it wasn't going to take 2 hours to get to Oxford. Generally, with light traffic it wouldn't normally take more than an hour. I wasn't over-keen on driving myself, due to the stress it was likely to cause and I certainly didn't need any more, what with Carol already being in hospital and also the state of other drivers attitude of other motorists, being tail-gated and generally not being in a fit state to drive that far at the moment. Also, I don't think Carol would have been happy if I had gone on my own. I was ready to leave well before 12 noon. He phoned me to say he'd be ten minutes late. When he got here he had to set his satnav and we left for Oxford.

The journey was relatively straightforward, but still I'm glad I didn't have to drive. We had to stop on the A34 because the satnav wasn't working or something, so James used his mobile phone as a satnav.

We got to the John Radcliffe but then we weren't entirely sure where the department was that I was going to, the Nuclear Cardiology department. The John Radcliffe is an enormous hospital, spread across a really large campus and it can be extremely difficult to find the particular department you need when you don't know the exact layout of the place. Then we had a problem with parking the car, a vast carpark but absolutely no vacant spaces. So I had to get out of the car, having got James's mobile number so we could keep in contact. I went into the main reception entrance and asked at a desk, and was given instructions as to the exact place I should go to, along a very long corridor (why do hospitals always have at least on long corridor? Is it something that the architects work into their masterplans or something, just to keep patients and visitors fit with all the walking?) Even then I didn't know the department was on Level 1, so I had to go down in a lift, which, when I got in one, insisted on going up first before delivering to the correct floor. But then I had to walk a considerable distance before finding the right department although I had to ask at two further desks before eventually ending up where I should have been. I can't say it was particularly well signed, just endless corridors and stairs to reach it.

All the while James texted me. He said he would attempt to park outside the hospital and then, later, said he was going to go to a library. One was going to be closing at 1 o'clock, so obviously no use, and then he said he was going to Bicester, which we had come through on the way over from Milton Keynes, and he said he'd head back to the hospital to pick me up at 5.30.

I reported to the reception in the department and then had to wait in the waiting area, but I didn't have to sit there long because a nurse soon came to get me and went through to one of the preparation rooms where I had to have a canala inserted in my right arm. As usual with me I had to lay down on the bed because I have a problem with needles, usually with giving blood, as you will have discovered if you read my blog posts regularly. The nurse had a real problem finding a vein, and at one point wanted to put the thing in my hand, which I refused. It's not the pain of the needle, it's mostly when whoever is attempting to put a needle in is fiddling around, looking for a vein, try one area, then another, then they tap your skin to raise a vein, it won't work here, then there, they might start to put a needle in, it takes too long, at which point I'm feeling queasy and sick. But eventually the canala was inserted and eventually the radio-active substance put into my bloodstream. My blood pressure was taken, which was low. I don't have a problem with that. I had to remain laying down for a minute or two. I began to feel better and eventually stood up and had to go and wait out in the waiting area for an hour before they could do the fist scan. I was shown what the machine was like,  through a window into the main room and how I would lie on the bed with my head out though the end of the machine as the camera revolved around me. I have to admit I don't like being enclosed in a small space and get mildly claustrophobic as a result.

So, I sat and waited for the hour. I had to drink water, for whatever reason. I could have eaten something, but I wasn't hungry but I currently don't have an appetite. I had eaten earlier, before I had left home, at around 10.45. Some people waiting with me had bought food with them but I just couldn't face a thing. They had a television on to watch, an ancient edition of 'Bargain Hunt' on the Really channel, not a channel I would normally watch, and then what seemed like endless episodes of 'Homes Under The Hammer.' I attempted to read, as I had a book with me, but I couldn't concentrate on it, so I gave up.

When the hour was up (and goodness, how it did drag. Really boring, unfortunately.) I was called in to the next room for the scan. I had my blood pressure taken. I had to lay on the bed within the scanning machine. They put something under my legs to raise them slightly. I think I had pads put on my chest, that connect you to an E.C.G. I had to slide right back and put my head out the other side of the machine and raise my arms and put my hands behind my head. To be honest, I didn't like it. I don't like enclosed spaces. The actual camera part of the machine encircled the whole bed with me on it and my chest had to be under the camera. Fortunately they had music playing, from Classic FM, so as the machine started I could concentrate on that and not on the humming, whirring machine as it kept circling me. Also, the whole procedure took around 10 minutes, not a moment more or a moment less. I had to lay completely still. My arms began to get cramp and I wanted to stretch my legs, but I had to keep perfectly still. Then one of the nurses said that the procedure was over. Thank goodness. The thing began to stop revolving and I was able to be moved down the bed so that I could sit up. I then sat on the edge of the bed and the pads were removed from my chest and I could leave the room, and had to drink water as I sat outside. I was told I should eat something, but I didn't feel hungry and really had no appetite, although someone sitting near me in the waiting room had food with him in a bag and kept eating fruit and other things.

So, another hour elapsed. Again, watching television and being generally bored. Once the hour was over I hd to go into another room. I had to take off my shirt while they connected me to more pads, which went to a computer which showed E.C.G. readings. I had to stand on a treadmill and walk, at first at a slow pace and then they gradually increased the speed. I had to hold on to a handrail, and walk steadily. The speed of the treadmill was increased and I managed to keep walking steadily, but I began to feel a tightness in my chest, but they made me keep on walking. One of the nurses put something into my arm through the canula in my right arm. No doubt more radioactive substance but I think it was more likely something to make my heart beat faster, probably adrenaline, but I'm not sure. I had a stress test done at Milton Keynes hospital in the cardiology department several years ago and they did something similar whilst doing a sonic scan of my heart and the adrenaline or whatever it was made my heart beat faster. I think this new test was similar to that. As I got more and more tightness in my chest they slowed down the treadmill until it stopped, but frankly it was stressing me somewhat and I was relieved when it was over. I know when I'm out walking when to slow down or stop to rest, whenever I feel some tightness in my chest, so it was with this test.

I got off the treadmill and they took the pads off my chest and I went back to the waiting area.

Another hour to wait. Or perhaps a bit more. I attempted to text James, but by now my mobile showed that I had little battery-life in it. I decided to turn the thing off, otherwise if the battery failed I wouldn't have enough power to text James to let him know I had finished and where to pick me up from.

It was well over an hour by the time I went into the room with the gamma camera in it (I've been looking at the literature I was sent prior to going for this procedure and that is what the machine is called.) I had my blood pressure done again. By now (it was around 5.15p.m.) I was heavily sick of the whole thing, feeling really tired (which is an effect of having had a heart attack, so nothing new there.) I had to lay on the bed thing in the machine and my legs were lifted it up with a sort of bolster thing. Not sure why, although perhaps it helps my blood circulate better for the camera. Then I had to put my head back as far as I could out the back of the machine and put my hands behind my head. Again the machine started. But this time the operator left the room. I didn't get far into the procedure, unfortunately. I had my eyes closed as I had the first time round, but then I opened them and saw how close the camera thing was to me and I'm afraid to say on here that I got a horrible panic attack. I just can't stand being enclosed, I've mentioned it on here earlier. I just freaked out and in the process I move my position. I continued with the procedure, but when it had finished the nurse said that because I'm moved it had ruined the results of the scan. I would need to do it again. I explained that I'd had an awful panic attack and the staff did understand. I didn't want to have gone all the way to Oxford for this procedure and then not have it completed successfully. They said to me that next time someone would be with me during the next run with the gamma camera, and it wouldn't be so long, perhaps seven minutes. So, I agreed to have a second attempt and this time it went well, with the nurse talking to me throughout. The earlier attempt wasn't pleasant and I just hope that I don't have to have another scan like it. Just don't like being in enclosed spaces like that.

So, that was the final scan, thank goodness. I packed up my things and had to open up my mobile, which even than had very little battery power. I managed to text James (by now it was about 5.35 p.m.) and attempted to walk to the hospital reception area, where I'd come in earlier. I walked along a really long corridor, expecting it to lead out of the building, but I came to a set of double doors which I couldn't open, it requiring a card to swipe to get it to open, which I didn't have. No doubt a member of the hospital staff would have such a card, but I obviously didn't. I walked back the way I'd come, a long walk, and I wasn't feeling 100%, so it was hard work. I used a lift and hoped I would get back to the level which lead out to the reception area. I eventually got there, James having said earlier in a text that he was now back on the hospital site. I decided to walk out of the building and thankfully I saw his car drawing up down at the road-level. So I got into his car and we began the journey home, arriving back at our house at around 7.15. I was so grateful to James for his kindness to drive me to Oxford and for the successful conclusion of what was a very long and tiring day.

Saturday Morning Frost

(Saturday) I went out to the meter cupboard to check the gas meter. It was fine and didn't need credit putting on it, fortunately. It was quite chilly and there was a light frost on the car's windscreen. The first frost of the autumn.

I went to Sainsbury's early. I got there at around 8.45. Not busy at that early hour. I had to pick up my repeat prescription. I forgot to tell them at the pharmacy that I'm no longer taking Ramapril and now on Candesartan. It needs to be put on their list of my new medications. I now realise that Carol had a repeat prescription which needs collection and should have been ready. For some reason another of my meds wasn't available., Oxybutin. I can't think why, because I've only about four left. It's Ashfield Medical Centre just being awkward for now real reason. Or perhaps they just don't have any in stock. They said I couldn't have any until 27th October, so that's nearly in a month's time.

I got home, unpacked my shopping and then drove to the hospital. Carol seemed in a better frame of mind. I think at last the nurses have got on top of her pain relief medication.

As we sat quietly in the room, I was aware of someone entering  behind me as I sat in one of the chairs near the door, without our permission. One of the patients, who must have a learning disability. It was a bit of a shock. He came in and started looking at Carol's belongings on the bed-side table and touched the bed. He was followed by a carer, who apologised, and got the man out. The man didn't make any sound, didn't talk or anything. The type of patient I would have been caring for at one or other of the houses I worked in for the N.H.S., but they were usually those with extreme challenging behaviour. This man has been wandering about the ward all day and has two support workers with him. Carol was upset he had come in. The carers shut the room door to prevent him coming in and came back to again say they were sorry he had come into the room. It would be somewhat unsettling to have your personal space invaded like that.

I took Alfie out for his, by now, routine run across the park. I didn't go the whole circuit, because I felt a certain amount of discomfort in my chest. Not an angina attack, but I wasn't keen to risk being out. I always carry a G.T.N. spray, nevertheless. It has been mild, with  weak sun shining on the scene. A lot of leaves now fallen and definite signs of autumn. I can't believe it'll be October tomorrow.

This evening I have managed to put my medication out ready to take. I have looked at the repeat prescription I collected this morning and find that my Bisoprolol dosage hasn't been changed with the new order, it is still at the original, higher dosage of 5 mg, but it had been lowered to 2.5 mg by the doctors at John Radcliffe. Also, I got Ramapril, which has now been replaced by Candesartan. It's obvious that Lloyd's didn't know about the Ramapril being replaced, but the surgery hasn't looked carefully at the Bisoprolol dosage and it needs changing to the correct dosage. I think I will need to go back to Lloyd's in Sainsbury and get this rectified. No doubt it will require the surgery to make this change before Lloyd's can change it. So more aggravation.

When I got home I found a pile of post. One of them a letter from John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford.
I have an appointment there on Monday 8th October at 2 o'clock to have a Myocardial Perfusion Imaging Test. Seems to be similar to Carol's scans and the whole process takes 4-5 hours. My concern is that I don't relish having to drive all that way, and then, all the way back home afterwards. I would hope Carol could come with me, but considering her health at present I'm not sure. When she had a scan at the Churchill Hospital in Oxford all those months ago, we went via a hospital ambulance/minibus. However, it wasn't the most comfortable journey, but if it means I didn't have the stress of getting to Oxford I would be more than happy to go on that ambulance. Unless someone at church could volunteer their services, but that's a big ask, considering the length of time the procedure is likely to take. I'll have to look into the options. Until I got the letter today I had never heard of this particular test.

Checking On Ashfield, (and other matters)

(Monday)Because I have had some changes to my medication, since I had my recent heart attack and was cared for in the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford, I needed to check that our doctor's surgery at Ashfield Medical Centre had received the letter from the hospital which has a list of the amendments. I just don't trust them to have this organised so that, when I need to put in a repeat prescription I get the new drugs on the list. We drove to Beanhill and went into the surgery and I asked as the reception desk whether the amendments had been made to my medication and the receptionist looked on the computer system and it had been up-dated, which means our GP had received the information plus a letter from the John Radcliffe which I'd received recently regarding my heart attack last week.

(Wednesday) I'm still managing to find the remains of the adhesive that they use to stick those contacts on your body when you have to have an E.C.G. when your in hospital, on my body, usually where you can't get at it easily. It's a sort of sticky residue which will wear off given time, but it's quite difficult to get off except when you use soap and water. I found I still had several of these contacts on me when I got home from hospital.

I'm still suffering somewhat from a dry cough, caused, I'm almost certain, as a side effect of some of my medication. I do occasionally get a twinge in my chest, no doubt caused by the stent, but it soon settles down. Certainly not as bad as any angina attack. I still have bruises on both my knees which were caused when I collapsed in church. A bit black and blue, the right knee is more swollen than the left and a good deal more painful. It has been difficult to bend but I can walk a good deal easier than when I first left hospital. I seems odd, but when I was supposed to have had a heart attack, in all honesty I can't remember any real pain as it was going on, no shooting pains up my arms as you're supposed to experience.  When I had my first heart attack in 2006 there was definite excruciating pain then and afterwards, when I left hospital after a week I could barely walk. This time I was able to walk without any problems. After the stent was fitted I was very drugged, no doubt as a result of local
anaesthetic, and felt really horribly woosy for some time and couldn't walk unaided, but it soon wore off, thank goodness. At one point it seemed as if the whole room was spinning round and round. Quite unpleasant. I had to sit down and rest before it went off.  I also have a bruise on the left of my forehead which is somewhat painful to the touch but not too bad at the moment. When I was in hospital they did check these injuries out but they decided that there was nothing serious in them.

On the weather-front, it's a somewhat overcast sort of day (as I write this at 8.00 a.m. on Wednesday 12th September.) I'm not sure whether we'll get sunshine today as it's sort of cloudy and I think it rained slightly overnight as the ground outside is damp.

I've had a telephone call this morning from the Cardiology department at Milton Keynes Hospital checking me out to see how I am after my heart attack. It would appear that the John Radcliffe in Oxford have been in contact. I had a short interview to discover how I am at the moment and I bought up the matter of the dry cough and the lady I was speaking to said it would be a side-effect of the Ramipril, one of the additional medications I am currently on since being in hospital. So, at least I know where this cough is coming from, considering I'm not feeling inwell due to a cold or 'flu. She said that I could ask my doctor to change this medication, but I mustn't stop taking the Ramipril. She asked me about diet and then gave me an appointment for next Monday at 9.20 a.m. As it's only a 10-15-minute walk to the Cardiology department from our home at least there should be no problem either finding the department or finding it. We have usually entered the hospital through Cardiology when we've been to the oncology unit when Carol was having her chemotherapy sessions. All this showing how rapidly the various N.H.S. departments have got on my case to get me up-and-running with rehab.

Weekend Dog-Walking and M.R.I. Scan

I haven't taken Alfie out for his early-morning walk since last Saturday. Well, if you're a regular reader of my blog posts you'll know why.  Alfie has been itching to get out and has been following me about the house but couldn't understand why he's been ignored as regards his walk. Frankly, I have't been exactly up for any sort of walk, because of the pain in my legs due to the bruising and Carol wasn't over-keen for me to go out alone with him. Also, it was raining very lightly, although I don't think we would get wet because it was so light. It didn't seem fair on poor little Alfie to have to be denied his walk, so Carol suggested we all go together. She didn't want me to go on my own, considering I'd only had my heart attack less than a week ago, so I'm not really surprised she wanted to go with us. Every time I moved around the house, from getting dressed, going into the bathroom to get shaved to going downstairs, I had a pair of little eyes watching my every move and when I put my jacket on and then my shoes he knew we were about to go out. Which turned  Alfie into a version of the Tasmanian Devil when he goes totally mad, barking, getting hold of the lead with his teeth and generally making a terrible noise, which continues as we go through the door and into the road outside and continue down the path towards Eaglestone Park, where we release him from the lead. For Alfie at least, it's not so much a walk, but more like a mad gallop around the park. 

Carol had another M.R.I. scan this morning. We were supposed to be at the unit at 10.45. We drove into the hospital campus and parked in the multi-storey carpark. Because it was a Saturday there were plenty of spaces. I was noticed how run down a lot of the hospital buildings look, comparing it with the John Radcliffe in Oxford. I think Milton Keynes hospital must have been built on the cheap, as most of the buildings are presumably pre-fabricated. I may of course be wrong. I still can't see why they didn't build a couple of high-rise blocks as there is an incredible amount of wasted space, hence, the amount of walking you have to do to reach various wards and clinics within the campus.

We walked down to the M.R.I. unit, run by In Health. I can't work out how this works. Are they an independent company, working for or in partnership with the N.H.S.? Does the hospital pay them for their services? Not sure I'm over-keen on a private company making money out of the hospital. I'v e learned, from Carol's friend Pauline, who is a colleague of her's who is a science teacher at Milton Keynes Academy, (which is sponsored by a private company, that this company is paid something like £300,000 a year by the Academy, for their services, such as administration etc.) It seems a crazy way to be funded, considering that this organisation has no experience of anything education-related. Why isn't this money used to fund teacher's pay, or, at least paying for extra staff, such as teachers or teaching assistants?

Carol's scan took over an hour, a good deal longer than the last M.R.I. scan she had when she was in hospital. The unit is just over the road from Ward 22 where she was a patient for nearly 5 weeks.

Sunday. I didn't go to church this morning. I woke with a nasty cough, which is a side-effect of one of the tablets I take. I'm not entirely sure which one it is. Seems that nearly everything you take has a nasty side-effect. One even says 'heart attack,' which is somewhat worrying, when you think I've already had two of those. Is that a side-effect? Crazy.

Later we took Alfie for his customary walk. We visited the shop to buy some bread for lunch and some Imodium tablets (because the Atarvastatin seems to be giving me the runs, rather unpleasant. See previous blog post.) I had an idea that any statin tablets I was prescribed would probably have this sort of side-effect, which I can honestly do without. Enough problems without constantly running to the toilet. Also, just plain tired and want to sleep. Which is just part and parcel of having a heart attack I'm afraid.

As I write this, at 3.15 p.m. on Sunday, it's quite bright and sunny, although there is a keen wind blowing.

Emergency Trip To The John Radcliffe In Oxford- Part 3

I can't remember exactly when I had several canulas put into one of my hands and my left hand. I think this may have been done when I was in the ambulance when travelling to Oxford. They are used to connect you to drips and in several cases to take blood. Also, I had several contacts stuck to my chest and other points on my body which were used to connect me to a monitor for heart beat and other body functions. A bit annoying that I had to contend with the cables when I lay in bed and had to disconnect them when I needed to go to the toilet and then the connection block got in the way and could be incredibly uncomfortable. Then the monitor, which all patients in the ward had these over their beds or at least nearby and they also gave off incredibly annoying bleeps which made it incredibly difficult to sleep. Not just these monitors, but many other electronic devices within the ward. There seemed no way you could either reduce their volume or turn them off completely.

It was odd not seeing the other patients in the unit. Being in a single room meant I was somewhat cut off from others on the ward. You could see people being moved around as they were shunted around in their beds. A bit like I was, all my belongings (such as they were. Not a lot, but still put in a large plastic bag) and then pushed by either a nurse or a porter to the vacant place on the ward.

Monday.

You get worken early in any hospital. I think I was awake already, but because there's always some noise on a ward, monitors buzzing along with outer machinery, staff moving about (they do try their hardest not to wake people) and the fact that I had a blood pressure cuff on which kept on automatically inflating to take my blood pressure during the night, I don't think I got a particularly good night's sleep. Then they begin to come round doing patients' 'obs' and at around 7.30-8.00 someone comes round with tea or coffee and breakfast. But for some reason you don't get toast, which i would have liked. A pity, but I bet the old Health and Safety rears it's ugly head, perhaps because of the possibility of fire, over-heating etc etc. Some wards I've been on had toasters in their kitchens, so it would have been out of the way to prevent accidents.

At around 10.00-10.15 I was visited by one of the doctors and given a brief explanation of what had happened to me and it was by then that I had actually had a heart attack myocardial infarction, to give it the correct name.) He explained what the stent was there for and the new medication I would be put on as a result of my recent episode. He had quite a lot of information which came from various E.C.Gs which had already been taken, as well as from my blood pressure and so on. You get regular observations ('obs'), taken by the nurses, covering temperature, blood pressure and heart rate, all taken with digital equipment. I was told by the doctor that I could possibly go home the next day (Tuesday) but I would be having a scan which would show the state of health of my heart and from this they could decide whether I could drive after a week or a month from having the heart attack on Sunday.

I was told that I would be in hospital until at least Wednesday. Not much to do. I had no books to read, no mobile phone, so I couldn't speak to Carol and there wasn't any television to watch, unless you had access to the in-hospital system which required you to pay, and similar to the dreadful Hospicom service at Milton Keynes Hospital. Also, I had no cash on me, nor either of our debit cards, so I couldn't even buy a newspaper.

I had breakfast on the ward. As I've mentioned, it's quite difficult to sleep with all the noises going on in the night, so I'm usually awake early. Partly because, having been bought up on a farm, life starts early so I'm used to it and it doesn't bother me. I'm a morning sort of person anyway. You get offered tea from a trolley and they come round regularly with the trolley and there's always water to drink with medication. No fear of dehydration. You have to fill in a menu for the next day's meals, lunch and dinner. Usually a fairly good selection of options.

Later in the day, probably 9.30-10.00 I was told I would be moving out of the single, en suite room and moving down to the Cardiac Rapid Response Unit, which is on the ground floor of the department. Everything was bundled up and I was pushed out of the room by a nurse and a porter, taking me down in a life and along a long corridor. Eventually entering the more open ward, with 6 beds in it, each bed facing another bed. It made a real change from being in a single room and it made a change to have other patients around. It was beginning to get slightly claustrophobic where I was. Much more space to inhabit that was the general amount of space patients were expected to inhabit in Milton Keynes Hospital.

Tuesday. Another night of attempting to sleep, due to the noises on the ward. But this wasn't really much of a problem, because I could sleep all day if necessary.  I was again told about the scan, an echocardiogram, or 'Jelly Scan' as Carol told me when I phoned later. Then I had the problem of how I was to get home. I asked one of the nurses whether I would have transport back to Milton Keynes but I was told that I couldn't have transport because I lived outside their official catchment area. A bit unfair, seeing how I had no choice of where I was taken by the paramedics after my heart attack. So I spoke to Carol via telephone and she said she would speak to Ross, Pastor at S.C.F. and he would come later to pick me up. Which is what happened.

The echocardiogram was done. I was expecting to go to another department to have this done, but a technician came with a portable machine and he did the scan with me laying on the hospital bed, with he curtains drawn around me. It's also referred to as a 'Jelly Scan' because they use a sort of jelly to put on your chest so that the probe device can slide across your skin more easily. I think it was KY Jelly, but I'm not sure.

The admin staff on the ward did the paperwork for myself, giving details of my care and my health condition which would also be sent to my GP at Ashfield Medical Centre as well as ordering additional medication and details of how it was to be administered. It was some while before the scan was analysed and I was told by one of the doctors that my heart looked healthy enough and that I would be able to drive after a week and not a month.

Around 3 o'clock Ross and Carol arrived on the ward. I wasn't too sure how long it would take them to drive over from Milton Keynes. So, having been given a bag full of the new medications, which had been sent from the hospital pharmacy, we walked out of the ward and out to the carpark and to Ross's car and we left Oxford to drive home to Milton Keynes.

I'm feeling fairly well, having undergone the trauma of the heart attack. I must have collapsed quite heavily, because I have bruises on both knees as well as the left side of my forehead and all these bruises are really painful and make walking quite uncomfortable and as I write this (4.00 p.m. on Thursday) they are beginning to come out quite blue and the pain is going off.

Emergency Trip To The John Radcliffe In Oxford- Part 2

I can't recall how I got onto the trolley which the paramedics used to get me out to the ambulance. I think I must have been helped to stand up from the floor and then helped to walk to the trolley. I was then wheeled out to the ambulance which was parked outside in the carpark. I have no recollection of which door I went out of. It's odd how details like that just disappear from your memory, probably because of the trauma of the incident. Perhaps it's just as well you don't recall the smaller things. This is why I'm writing this as soon as I could so that I can record as much as possible for this blog.

Inside the ambulance the paramedics did an E.C.G. (electrocardiogram) of my heart. They did a series of other tests, including asking me questions as to what the intensity of the pain was, on a scale of 1 to 10. They always do this in the N.H.S. when there is a need in any sort of incident where there might be pain. This information was then sent ahead to the hospital. They then had to wait to see which hospital I was being taken to, either Milton Keynes University Hospital, or the John Radcliffe in Oxford. Of course I would have preferred it to have been Milton Keynes because we live just 10 minute's walk away. After some wait they were told I should be taken to John Radcliffe. So, with that decided, and me well and truly strapped in to the trolley inside the ambulance, we pulled away from the carpark outside the Oaktree Centre (the building occupied my S.C.F., Shenley Christian Centre.) and made, at some considerable speed, for the main road heading for Oxford. I had absolutely no idea where we were on the road at any one time because you couldn't see out of the ambulance, except a vague glimpse out of a side-window as we sped along. I expect we went via Buckingham, the main road which we had only recently drive along the day before, Saturday, when we'd gone to Stowe Landscape Gardens.

All the way to Oxford the paramedics sent details of my situation. I heard a vague mention of 'stent' and that was all. At the time it didn't really sink in what they were likely do for me when we arrived at the John Radcliffe hospital. When I had my first heart attack in 2006 I was taken to Bedford Hospital. We have been to the Churchill Hospital when Carol has had scans, which was the first time I'd been to any of the Oxford hospitals, having had no previous need. I didn't even know where it was exactly, and had no idea how we got there. Some of the journey was uncomfortable, because the road surface somewhere was extremely bumpy. I think this was somewhere where roadworks were in progress. It was fortunate that there was minimal road traffic, due to the fact that it was a Sunday. At one point I was given a tablet to chew, I think it was to stop any further clotting of my blood or to help with pain. Not a pleasant taste, but it stopped any further problems arising.

About an hour since leaving Milton Keynes we arrived at the entrance to the Cardiology department of John Radcliffe Hospital. We went through the door into what is known as the Cath Lab. I only know this now having done some research on the internet. I was taken through into a sort of anti-room where I was prepared for an angiogram. I have had this before when they put this in through my groin. This new procedure was to be done through the wrist of my right arm. I didn't entirely take in what was happening, as it all went so fast.  They removed my shirt and after they had done further prepping I was then taken through into the lab. More like an operating theatre, with lots of glass windows leading into offices (I presume.) and what appeared to be an X ray machine in the ceiling on a sort of armature system so this device could be easily moved. They transferred me from the trolley onto a narrow bed arrangement. I was still wearing my chinos, socks and shoes, I must add, throughout all this, although a sort of material cover was put over me, no doubt to keeps things clean. Then the surgeon arrived, a short man dressed in blue and with a white paper hat on to presumably keep his hair out of the way and a white gauze mask over his mouth. He spoke to me and said that he was going to put a local anesthetic into my right arm, which was placed on a sort of clear plastic surface at the side of the narrow table. I realised that something was going to happen. He asked me if I'd had an angiogram before, and I said, yes, after I'd had my first heart attack in 2006. He could see my veins within my body by looking at a monitor from the X Ray machine, but I wasn't going to look as I, honestly, had other things on my mind at that precise moment. The area of my wrist where the aesthetic had been delivered became numbish and then the surgeon began the procedure, inserting a stent into the vein in my arm. I had more pain (although fairly mild) from the pressure he was putting on my arm on the side of the table. The stent was gradually being inserted further into my chest. I could feel a certain amount of it's movement within my body, but no more. Then the surgeon said he could see the clot in one of the veins in my heart. I'm not sure how long all this lasted, probably between 30-40 minutes. I felt incredibly relaxed throughout, which, looking back, is amazing, because me and needles and operations don't mix that well. Looking now at the right wrist as I write this post, there is really so little sign of anything except a very small entry-point for the stent. I had a sort of wrist devised put over the entry-point when the procedure was complete which I kept on for a day or two. Then the surgeon said the procedure had been successful and complete. I was left on the table for a while after the procedure was complete, all the staff left and it seemed odd to just be left on that bench/table. It was quite cold, particularly as I had no shirt on, also weird that I still had my trousers and shoes on throughout!

Eventually I was transferred onto a hospital trolley and wheeled into the coronary unit where I remained for several hours until eventually I was moved into the C.C.U. (Coronary Care Unit.)

The unit is modern. I'm not sure how long ago it was opened. I think probably about 5 years or so. It doesn't have the feel of Milton Keynes Hospital. They've taken some thought about how much space each patient requires. We found it really difficult in some ways with the lack of space when Carol was on Ward 22. Very little space around the bed, lack of hanging for clothing (I don't think there was any, thinking about it.) and generally nowhere to put personal belongings. In this first room it was plain and the windows had Venetian-style brands instead of curtains or those Roman blinds that they had in the single room Carol had early on when she was in hospital.

Then, around 10 o'clock that night I was moved upstairs to an on-suite room. A rarity, surely, in any N.H.S. hospital. The only problem was, for me at any rate, the sound of traffic moving past the window which kept me awake at night. There were two manhole covers (I assume they were those) in the road outside and you'd get a double 'clink-clink' as a vehicle moved over them. Somewhat annoying.

When I left Milton Keynes I had no time to collect anything from home. No basic necessities such as toiletries,  shaving requisites such as razor, shaving foam, flannel, toothbrush, toothpaste etc, or night-attire, or a simple change of clothing. I had on the same clothes which I had put on earlier that morning and which I had on when my collapse at S.C.F. earlier that morning. All I had to wear in the time I was in the hospital was a hospital-issue gown, which is the type you have to put on sort of back-to-front and ties up at the back. Not easy when there's nobody to help, so I put this on. Although I did get given some pyjamas but didn't change into them. Also, no slippers, so I had to walk about bare-footed, which isn't something I like doing at home.

Carol Discharged From Hospital . . . At Last!

Yet another hot and uncomfortable day. The weather is becoming somewhat monotonous, to say the least.

I've been attempting to sort out the tenancy agreement we have with our landlord to give to the Housing Benefit department at Milton Keynes Council. I have sent them an email, as I thought I'd attempt another tactic. Several years ago we had problems with the gas boiler in this house. We attempted to ring the landlord, but we couldn't get through. We then went through the council, because it would be obvious that they would have his details because of paying Council Tax and one thing and another. It worked and we eventually got the boiler replaced. So I thought of using this again and wrote the email and sent it. I even rang and got through quite quickly, considering how long it can take. I was then told, after explaining all about how they'd contacted the man over the boiler I was told, rather annoyingly, that they couldn't do that, 'because of data protection.' So, this  is because of the confounded new E.U. legislation called the General Data Protection Regulations 2018, which came into force in May. We're back were we started. I have left a message on our landlord's voicemail, but no response seems to be forthcoming. Where is the man? Does he not realise that this is important? It's not just us that need the paperwork to finish the Housing Benefit claim. He won't get his rent paid without it etc etc etc.

We spent a long day on the ward. We knew at some point Carol would eventually be discharged, but when, we couldn't say.

At 11.40 Carol had an appointment in the Macmillan Unit with Doctor Saka, the Lead Cancer consultant. Carol was taken down in a wheelchair by a porter. It's not far from Ward 22, but she clearly couldn't walk that far so it was best to be taken in a wheelchair. We have to wait a long time in the waiting area. They never seem to run to time in these units. Perhaps they don't give enough time for consultations, there's a lot to discuss. Eventually Carol's name is called and we go into the office of Dr Saka. It's the main man, not one of his minions. He asks Carol questions, about why she has been in hospital for four weeks. He came to Ward 1 when she was there, but didn't know she was on Ward 22. It seems as if there's a communication problem. Why wasn't he informed? This seems to be a problem with some N.H.S. departments, a lack of joined-up care you might say. He spends ages looking at the scanned imaged that came from the various scans Carol has had over the past few weeks and months, the M.R.I. and C.T. scans. We sit in silence. It's quite scary. We wait with baited breath. We're here to hopefully find out what the plan is for Carol's care. We are told that the liver and bowel cancer has been shrunk considerably by the chemotherapy, but they've found some cancer in her bones. It's a bit of a blow. How will all this be treated? He tells us that he will make a report and contact the cancer unit at the Churchill Hospital in Oxford and they will make some sort of decision. We feel we're no further forward. We haven't had the answers we need. The heat and the fact Carol's been ill and in hospital for near enough five weeks is really telling. We leave the consolation room and go back to the reception desk to make an appointment for four weeks hence and then the porter comes and Carol goes back to Ward 22.

Carol has quite a few visits from people different from N.H.S. departments at the hospital, the nurse about the stoma; someone from ophthalmology. The lady came with various lenses and glasses for Carol to try to help make reading easier for her because she's having problems with her eyes. A rather weird sort of pair of glasses with double lenses which had a knurled device on their frame which helps them focus a sort of domed glass magnifying glass that you move across a page of text, another which was a   squarish magnifying glass on a handle. Carol didn't get on with the strange glasses, which made me think of the sort of specs that someone who does close work, like a clock-maker might use. Or the character of Professor Brainstawn from the books I was read when I was at school and later read myself. He had around five pairs of glasses which were perched on the top of his head and he was always loosing.  written by the author Norman Hunter and Illustrated by W. Heath Robinson. In the end Carol chose the magnifying glass with the handle because she found the strange glasses to complicated. She will have an eye test so she can have proper prescription glasses. Then another lady arrived, from the diabetes team. She bought a bloodsugar testing monitor so that Carol can do the necessary blood tests to keep on top of her levels. We were looking into buying a new one, so, with this model, together with the lancets which go in a separate gadget to prick her finger, that's a definite saving. She also gave us a list to take to our doctor so all these bits and pieces which need replacing can be re-ordered on prescription because at the moment we have to pay for all these things. Hopefully, Lloyd's in Sainsbury's will be supplying all of this when the time comes for a repeat prescription.

Around 2.30 Carol eventually went to have the P.I.C.C. line put in. A nurse came to take her down, walking there, not in a wheelchair with a porter. It's not far to the scanning department. I had to wait in the waiting area, as you'd expect. The whole procedure took around an hour. After which we returned to the ward.

Carol had ordered supper (do they call it supper, dinner or tea in hospital? Whatever it's called, her evening meal.) It came around 5 o'clock. I could make myself a meal of some sort when I got home, go and get fish and chips or cook one of the individual meals I'd bought in Morrisons's a couple of days ago. She had a baked potato and baked beans. It would mean that she wouldn't want a meal when we eventually got home.

Someone arrived from the pharmacy department with all the medications that Carol would need when she got home. A couple of large carrier bags full of stuff together with all the bits and pieces needed by the community nurse who would be coming each day to give Carol the antibiotics. That is what P.I.C.C. line is for.

The nurse in charge had done the relevant paperwork, the discharge stuff, the official paperwork which gave a description in clear language of why carol had been in hospital, together with a couple of pages of all the medication she as being sent home with. We had to go through it all and check it off. All I can say is, thank goodness for the N.H.S. and the fact that we don't have to pay for any of this as it would cost us a considerable amount of money.

Nearly 6 o'clock and by this time I'd taken one load of things out to the car. Several carrier bags which would make the final exit a good deal easier. One of the nurse came and pushed Carol in the wheelchair out down in the lift and out through the double doors where the ambulances pick up and drop of patents. This is where we got on the ambulance which took Carol and I to the Churchill Hospital in Oxford all those months ago, before she had her chemotherapy, and was so uncomfortable, basically because the driver drove so fast and it was just plain unpleasant.

The nurse got Carol as far as she could in the wheelchair. The road surface going the rest of the way to the carpark is far too uneven for a wheelchair, so I went to fetch the car and drove it back to the ambulance entrance so that Carol could get in and the rest of the luggage put in the boot of the car. So, she was at last discharged and we drove home. Alfie was excited to greet Carol when we got in the house, having unloaded the car. I think she was glad to be able to sleep in her bed for the night. By the time we got home it was gone 7 o'clock but we knew that it was likely to take several hours for Carol's discharge to be completed.

Busy Week

So ends another week. It's been relatively busy, beginning with Carol having a blood test at the oncology department at Milton Keynes Hospital. I forget to call it Milton Keynes University Hospital, but it doesn't matter that much, as it's still a hospital, with or without the academic addition to it's name. Then we had to drive to Oxford to go to the Churchill Hospital so Carol could have a P.E.T. scan. All of this related in an earlier blog post. Then she had two letters to say she had two scans booked, one an M.R.I. and the other a C.T. scan, both at Milton Keynes Hospital. Just don't ask which is which, but it means things are moving towards the next stage of her treatment, but as yet we don't have conformation as to what it's likely to be.

I went to Aldi early this morning (Saturday), getting to their branch at Westcroft just after they'd opened at 8 o'clock. A good reason to be so early so as to beat the crowds as well as finding a parking space. At least you can get in and out of Aldi's relatively quickly and their prices are a good deal lower than Sainsbury's or any of the main supermarket chains. It's a small store, as all their stores are. A far smaller range of items, so you don't waste time deciding which item to choose. At the till they whip your items through and straight into your trolley and you pack it all yourself on a shelf away from the checkout, so this reduces the queues. Such a simple idea and it seems to work. They put larger bar codes on their packets which means it's easier for the checkout staff to put the items through. 

Earlier in the week Carol had a text message from Daniel, to say that he was going to visit on Saturday (today). He's got a new job, at long last. He's been doing night shifts in a hotel in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, a Holiday Inn. He's being attempting to find something better for some time. It's working as a bar supervisor at St James's Park, the home ground of Newcastle United Football Club. To him it's a dream job. He's a mad Newcastle fan and has been since he was a boy. Although he would love to find a job he's been to university to study, computing, this will at least mean he's doing daylight hours and will actually be in charge of staff and not just a dogsbody which is how he's been treated at the hotel. He texted to say he'd be arriving around midday, but wouldn't say exactly when, but got here around 12.30. He came from the station by taxi cab, arriving with a huge bunch of flowers for his Mum.  We didn't do much. We stayed in the house as Carol wasn't feeling that well as a result of the final chemotherapy cycle. Alfie, our little Yorkshire terrier was pleased to see Daniel. We weren't sure he would remember him as it must be two or three years since he last visited.

He has an odd way with males, not me, of course. He can be a little off when Chloe's husband, Steve comes to visit. I don't know why. He gets very close to your face and shows his teeth. Is it a sort of territorial thing or something? I'm not sure. Anyway, we took Daniel back to the station as he was going into London.

Pothole Repairs, Oncology and Oxford P.E.T. Scan

I just had to mention this. We were going out in the car the other morning, I forget where, but it doesn't matter. We were going out at the Saxon Street exit. We saw a man in one of those hi-vis jackets. He had some sort of paint spray device in his hands. I had to look twice. He'd been spraying paint around some of the potholes around the entrance. We've been mentioning the fact that the road on which we live is full of potholes and the fact that they need repairing. Most are along the centre, the point where the two sections of the tarmac meet. No doubt this was a cheap method of constructing road surfaces back when the estate was built, must've been in the 1970's. But the 'seams' (I can think of no better way to describe it.) are coming apart. It's like driving in some sort of Rift Valley. The surface is worse when you come round from the Marlborough Street entrance where we usually come back from Oncology or other hospital appointments. It's just really awful. So, at a later time when we came back home we saw the man (and no doubt a partner in crime) had been really busy as there was some considerable amount of spray paint along the road which would be to show the workmen where to fill in the holes. But the fact is, most of the road surface needs completely resurfacing and not merely patched. It needs doing properly and not just a 'quick fix.' Saying that, some sort of repair is better than none at all, and it's far better to do it in the summer because if it's left until the winter, when it's likely to freeze, the road surface will break up even more.

Another bright and sunny morning. We went to the oncology department for gone 10 o'clock. The place was virtually deserted and Carol was dealt with for her final blood test. They are reducing some of the chemotherapy to help prevent her numbing fingers which should help.

We went to the Shell filling station in Grafton Street on the way back from the hospital. It's surprising how far you can go without filling the Renault. It seems very economical, thankfully.

We were scheduled to go to  Churchill Hospital in Oxford for Carol's 3.30 p.m. P.E.T. scan and we were all set up to go. Then we got a telephone call to say that they had a cancellation and could we make 2 p.m.? We could, and were out of the house within 15 minutes. We took the SatNav (which has been christened Dora, after Dora The Explorer, but it was quite difficult to set it up as we were driving along, but we stopped in a lay-bay on Standing Way and managed to get the postcode of the Churchill and then set off in earnest to get to Oxford on time.

We got to the hospital with barely 10 minutes to spare. The problem was parking, as is generally the case. We drove around the site and found several carparks, but full. Not a single space. Then we drove around to what must have been the furthest point of the site and managed to find two spaces and then rushed round to the reception area. We walked through the hospital to where Carol had her first P.E.T. scan. You have to telephone a special number to register your arrival. Why no human on these reception desks? Is it a way of not employing a human to do this job? You don't always manage to get through. Making things quite frustrating and stressful. Why not have a computer touch screen as they have at our doctors' surgery or at the In-Patient clinics at Milton Keynes hospital. Not that they always work successfully. Just as we were waiting and I was about to settle down to sit and wait in the waiting room, a small nurse turned up to tell us we needed to be in another building, possibly because one of the scanners wasn't working. So she led us outside and we got to this other building and had to enter using a keypad on the door. Carol had to fill in a form before she was taken through to the scanner and I was left to my own devices for a good two and a half hours.

What amuses me is that, because they inject you with a radioactive substance so that the scanner can do it's job properly, patients who are injected with this substance are not supposed to mix with other people for a few hours afterwards. They use separate toilet facilities and so on, and must not sit in the waiting area after being scanned. Last time Carol had the journey back to Milton Keynes in that awful ambulance, driving at speed and being treated more like a sack of potatoes than as a patient with feeling and at the same time very uncomfortable. You aren't supposed to sit next to anyone more than six feet apart or something. But then she was right next to me all the way out of the hospital, walking along the corridors and out to the carpark and then sitting next to me in the car. A rather crazy ruling, did it not matter about me becoming contaminated by radioactive material? Taking Health and Safety rules too far and I bet the radioactivity had far less strength than is already in the environment, in, say, a luminous watch face or other electronic gadgetry. What about a computer screen, such as the MacBook Air I'm using to write this?

Having left the scanning department we walked towards the entrance along a long corridor. Hospitals always seem to have endless corridors. I know they have lots of departments and they need to be linked together, but endless corridors are just, well, endless. Then when we got outside, having been into the coffee shop to have lattes and a nice iced bun, we were confronted by the prospect of wrestling with a parking ticket machine. We extricated the ticket which was issued when we entered the car park when we arrived, but we didn't have sufficient change to put into the machine to pay. It was similar to the system in Milton Keynes hospital, whereby you put your parking ticket into the machine and it tells you how much to pay on a digital screen and then either pay with coins or use your debit or credit card. Simple. We went into the reception area to see if we could find an A.T.M. but the one in W.H.Smith was either out of order or had no cash in it. Nowhere else would come up with a solution to our problem. Smith's also didn't do 'cash-back' which some shops do. We went back to the ticket machine and spoke to the gentleman who was on the end of a switchboard somewhere in cyber-space and said he'd let us out with paying. Which was what happened when we eventually got back to the car and drove out, with the barrier lifting when we spoke into the machine.

By the time we got out onto the roads of Oxford and were driving back to Milton Keynes, things were getting very busy. The traffic was building up as people were leaving work to return home. We decided to stop to have something to eat at a K.F.C. on one of the main roundabouts on the outskirts of Oxford. The point where the A44 meets the A34. The build-up of traffic was quite intense and it took us some time to wend our way round the roundabout and get into the carpark near a Travel Lodge and next door to the Peartree park-and-ride carpark which we've used on a couple of occasions when we've visited Oxford in the past. It was a relief to be out of the traffic and to sit down and have something to eat. Carol hadn't been able to eat or drink since breakfast (she'd had something to eat at about 8 o'clock and then she had a KitKat chocolate bar which I'd bought at the Shell garage when we'd bought diesel there.

By the time we'd finished in K.F.C. the roads were calming down and we got on the A34 and then onto the M40 for a few miles until we reached the road back towards Buckingham and then home to Milton Keynes.