New Year!

Sunday. 3.05 p.m. I mentioned in the last blog post about the problems I was having with my Canon Pixma printer. I also had some difficulties finding ink cartridges. I eventually succumbed to Amazon and ordered a set of black and coloured ink cartridges. I was then extremely surprised to have them delivered only a few hours later! I never imagined them to arrive so swiftly and had thought they would at least 24 hours after delivering.

Even with a new cartridge put in the printer it still wouldn't work. There were a few streaks across the paper when I got the machine to print. My only solution was to find the Canon helpline and ring the next day.

I rang the Canon number and the lady who answered went through what was working and not working on the printer. She told me the thing needed a clean and, after several runs of the cleaning cycle, the black printed when tested but the colour remained stubbornly resistant. She told me that only a few cleaning cycles in any 24-hour should take place, so I gave it another go the following morning, but still, the colour would not work.

After church this morning I decided to drive to the Tesco Metro on Oldbrook Boulevard, only to find it closed! I knew that the parade of shops where it is situated was going to be demolished at some point, because Lidl, which is opposite, was going to also be demolished, and a larger store was to be built on the same piece of ground. 

Monday. 12.15 p.m. Quite mild and sunny as I write this, but there had been frost overnight, which I noticed when I took Alfie out earlier.

Thursday. 8.20 a.m. Yesterday wasn't a good day. It began at 6 a.m. I was shaving at the sink in my bathroom. It's not warm in there. No heating (another story there, I'm sure.) I suddenly got a pain in my chest. At first, I didn't take much notice and thought it might be heartburn. As a result, I took a Gaviscon tablet because they do relieve this sort of indigestion. It didn't seem to take much effect, so I thought it might be an angina attack, so I used my G.T.N. spray, which I spray under my tongue. It didn't make a lot of difference to the pain. In fact, nothing at all. By this time I was getting a bit stressed.

It was around 9 o'clock and I was at the point where I needed to ring 999 because the discomfort in my chest wasn't going away. Vashti, the S.H.O., would need to be informed so I went to the front office and she wasn't there. Another tenant went to find her, as she was working in one of the flats. When she eventually appeared, I told her my situation and said I wanted to ring 999. My main concern was leaving Alfie if I went to A and E and then possibly staying in overnight. Then she said that I should use my mobile because the Dexter House telephone couldn't be used (I don't know the technical reason.) So I returned to my flat to fetch my mobile.

I had the iPhone on hands-free, which made it far easier to speak to the operator when I dialled 999. I had to go through the process from the first pain I had at 6 o'clock when I was shaving and where I was with the pain at that time (which would have been around 9 O'clock.) The operator then said she would send an ambulance so paramedics could do their tests on me. It was at least 25 minutes before the ambulance arrived and the paramedics asked me further questions and then wired me up to their portable E.C.G. machine.  One of the two paramedics looked at the printed-out reading from the E.C.G. and could see that my heart rate was normal, but that there was a slight irregularity.

One of the paramedics said that I ought to go to the hospital to be checked out. I could avoid going to A and E and I could go directly to the new unit, The Maple Centre. He phoned and it was arranged. It would, hopefully, mean I would get dealt with without a lot of waiting. Not a lot of chance of that, I thought to myself. So I was loaded into the ambulance, which was parked outside in the street, and we drove off to Milton Keynes University Hospital.

It's only a short drive to Milton Keynes Hospital. It's actually in Eaglestone. I think it takes up around half the area of the grid section. The ambulance was parked near The Maple Centre and I was pushed in a wheelchair. I think I was capable of walking, but they pushed me in any way. The paramedics handed me over and a wrist label was put on my right wrist and I was parked in the waiting area. It wasn't long before I was taken into a triage room to have basic 'obs' done and blood taken. This, as I've mentioned in several earlier blog posts, is no easy task, because, first, I have a problem with this procedure and passed out once, and two, as I have narrow veins, it's difficult for anyone to find one suitable to take blood from, but eventually the nurse managed to raise a vein and took some blood. Then I was wired up to an E.C.G. which measures heart rate and shows up any heart irregularities. Then I went through into a corridor to wait. 

I was eventually seen by a doctor, who had been looking at the print-out from the E.C.G. She told me I hadn't had a heart attack (what a relief, but I guessed that already.) and she would have to look at the results of the blood test to decide what next to do. I had an irregular heartbeat, but she wasn't sure why this had happened.

I thought it was a good idea to let someone at church know where I was, so I texted Jennie, who is the leader of my Bible study group, on a Thursday morning. She texted to say that she wasn't currently at home, but she would contact someone in the pastoral care group.

I was given a cup of tea and a cheese and onion sandwich to eat, which was nice. I don't think I've been given any food when I've been in A and E. You usually have to buy it yourself out of a vending machine.

A lot more waiting in the corridor. You would think, considering The Maple Centre was a new building, that there would be space enough for people to wait and rooms provided so that patients could be treated or triaged without being in a corridor.

Part-way through the afternoon I was informed that the blood test I had done when I came in hadn't worked. Something about 'sticky blood,' which I had never heard of or what it was. The upshot was, that I'd have to have another one done, and the results would take a further hour or so. No point in complaining, these sorts of things happen. So, it was done and then yet another waiting session in the corridor.

Around 3 o'clock, I was joined by Margaret from church! She is part of the pastoral care team. I was given the results of the various tests during the day. The doctor who spoke to me said there were no signs of me having a heart attack and that the pain in my chest was due to an irregular heartbeat. A lot of information is given from the blood test and one particular agent called Troponin T, which is produced by the heart muscle, and which shows up in blood would signal any heart problems, and this didn't. That was a relief. She said that I wouldn't need to stay in overnight and she'd get a letter typed up and one would be sent to my doctor's surgery.

Another wait. At least I had Margaret to chat to!

Another wait . . . The doctor came past and said, had I received the letter? I said, no, and she went away and around 45 minutes later I was handed two sheets, one of which was the letter.

So Margaret went off and got her car from the carpark and said she'd wait in the drop-off space outside and when I was ready I could come out and she would take me home, which is what happened and I'm so grateful for her coming to be with me and then take me home.

This And That

It's not quite a hot as it's been lately. The sun is out as I write this (at 9a.m. on Thursday 20th August.) We have had rain, but there really is no real sign of it outside, except a small muddy puddle in the children's playground as I took Alfie out for his walk this morning. I went out for the second walk around 8.15 as I'm going out for a walk with my friend Mike from Church at 9.45. 

A few days ago I saw a workman on the grass as I crossed over from Strudwick Drive, the area that fringes Oldbrook Boulevard. He was spraying the grass, painting lines, in a sort of arc. It wasn't at first clear what this was for. Possibly a pipeline going in, electric cable, more internet cabling? Not entirely sure at the time, but yesterday, when we walked across, it was all too clear what it was for. More workmen, erecting a low fence, presumably to prevent travellers getting on to Oldbrook Green, although it doesn't look particularly robust and wouldn't take much effort to remove if someone wanted to, although it that was to happen, do doubt they would be done for 'criminal damage'. We'll have to wait and see how far this fence is going to go. They will have to leave a gap somewhere to allow pedestrians to gain access, such as myself and Alfie.

(Friday) Yesterday I went for another walk with my friend Mike from Church. I drive over to his flat in Downhead Park and then we walk to the cafe with is in a precinct near Willen. This morning, as we were walking along the Redway (well, I presume it's Redway.) we came upon a man laying on the grass near Pennyland Basin, which I had never heard of. It's what I would call a marina, joined on to the Grand Union Canal. At first we weren't even sure if the man, who would have been in his 30's, was dead or alive, but we eventually made out that he was breathing, but only very lightly. He was wearing trainers and track suit bottoms but with no shirt and, because it was fairly warm, was sweating copiously. We attempted to rouse him, but we couldn't. I began to wonder if he was having an epileptic seizure, or at last, had had one and this was the end result, because generally, if someone has a seizure it leaves them very tired and they usually sleep. I would have put him into a recovery position, having done a first aid course, but, because of the coronavirus pandemic it was not advisable. So it was then that we decided, having attempted a few times more to rouse hi, to dial 999. I got through to the ambulance service and because I wasn't sure exactly where we were, found it difficult to tell the operator where we were, but by saying Pennyland Basin, the paramedics were able to find us. Mike went up to Dantseed Way, the nearest grid road, to let the ambulance driver know where we were.

The paramedics soon turned up and took over the car of the young man. They managed to rouse him and when they said he ought to be check over at A and E he was reluctant to go, but it seemed obvious that he needed the care they could give him there and it was at this point that we left.

I had to go to Central Milton Keynes Medical Centre for a blood test at 9a.m. I had been told, due to the pandemic, that I needed to arrive 5 minutes before the appointment so I drove there and was there a good 15 minutes ahead of the appointment. I parked the car, finding that there were plenty of spaces, and just sat and waited in the car until around 8.55 and then went towards the entrance of the surgery, expecting to be able to walk in but found the door locked and a  notice telling me I needed to use the intercom on the side of the door to get in. The phlebotomist made a good job of taking my blood. I didn't feel and thing and 10 minutes later, when I had time to sit and wait, I left the surgery and drove back to the flat.

At around 4 o'clock I got a text message from the doctor to tell me that the test was 'satisfactory' and that 'no further action is required,' although my vitamin D level was slightly low and he recommends me taking a vitamin D supplement. Not a problem as I can buy some when I'm next in Sainsbury's.

A Slight Glitch

I went to Camphill as usual on Tuesday. Teo, the drama leader (if that's his title, I'm not sure.) so Paul was in charge. We started off in a circle of chairs to do check-in which is done at the beginning of each session. A good way to find out any problems with the residents. There weren't. A couple of new faces from the support staff who I haven't met before. Then we did a line rehearsal, making sure that the actors put in as much effort as possible and standing up to deliver their lines. Then we split up into two groups to do work on various sections of the play. Some of the residents were away, mostly on holiday, so some of us support staff read in for them. Then we showed each other what we'd achieved during these sessions. Extracting as much comedy out of the piece as possible and some of the residents concerned that when Teo comes back next week he won't appreciate what we've done.

Then, in the final ten minutes before the lunch break at 12 o'clock we were doing more wolf and piggy movements, getting as much as possible out of this.

Then we broke for lunch. I have been taking a pack-up for lunch for the past few weeks. I have used the café on a couple of occasions, and, although it is very good, it's vegetarian. I don't have a problem with that, but I find their menu a bit limited. Not a very wide selection of food that I would want. I really don't want a full-scale meal, just a roll or sandwich. I did have a toasty on a couple of occasions but as I say, the menu is a bit limited, which is the reason I take a pack-up, usually a sandwich, which I make the evening before, an apple, banana or other piece of fruit, yoghurt, a packet of crisps and sometimes an oaty, churchy, biscuity thingy. I forget the name, crazy I know, but when the name of these items comes back to my memory, then I'll put it on here.

As I sat and ate, I suddenly got a really bad pain in my chest. I didn't immediately think much about it and went on eating and drinking. A cold fruit drink in one of those cardboard cartons with a straw stuck to the side which you have to carefully peel off and then stick in the hole in the top and which then means, if you're not careful, the juice squirts out. This discomfort didn't go away. Then I began to think 'is this an angina attack?' which means I use my G.T.N. spray (glyceryl trinitrate) which I always carry around in one of my pockets, either in my Regatta jacket or my trousers pocket, for such an eventuality as this. Three sprays under my tongue and then wait with your mouth closed for around five minutes, usually sitting down until the spray takes effect. On this occasion it didn't. The pain didn't go away. I had moved from the foyer area into the hall, the main body of the Chrysalis Theatre. I sat on a chair. It was at this point I began to panic slightly. I'll be perfectly honest and say that it's incredibly difficult to differentiate between an angina attack, a bout of heart-burn or 'reflux' and an actual heart attack. I can't explain the differences, but they are definitely similar. With an angina attack you know if you exert yourself a quick burst of G.T.N. spray it is going to go off after around five minutes; with heart burn it generally goes off after a while, the discomfort usually goes if you use a medication such as Zantac or even peppermint capsule. With a heart attack you get a pain which centres in your chest and spreads out to your arms and probably your legs, you sweat and your heart rate increases. I had neither the angina sensation or the angina sensation, because I had used the G.T.N. spray and it hadn't worked. Also, with the G.T.N. spray you get a sort of head rush (not unpleasant) and it's no use using it again as it's use won't have such a profound effect. When the discomfort hadn't subsided I asked someone to call an ambulance as I was in by now a bit of a panic.

The ambulance arrived within about 15 minutes. I wasn't timing it, but it soon arrived. The paramedics ran through the whole situation, from the moment the discomfort in my chest began through to how painful it was, as they always do, on a scale from 1 to 10. It started at about 8 and by the time they took me off in the ambulance it was around 4. They went through my medications and did a finger-prick blood test. Much as Carol would have done when she had to test her blood sugar because she was diabetic. I don't like it, but it was over quickly. I suppose it shows basic things in a test that can then be relayed to the awaiting doctors at A and E. By the time I got to A and E it had virtually disappeared, which reassured me that it wasn't actually heart-related, but they still took me to check me out. They did an E.C.G. as I sat in the theatre and gave me an aspirin tablet to start sucking and then to swallow. It didn't taste as unpleasant as they can sometimes taste, a sort of mint flavour. Certainly not the horrible taste of G.T.N. spray. I had to take my lunch box with me in the ambulance, all packed up and leave my car in the carpark at Camphill. I was concerned about loosing the car keys which were actually safely zipped into one of the pockets in my Regatta jacket.

I was surprised how quickly we got to Milton Keynes hospital. When you're in the back of the ambulance you can't see out, see exactly where you're going, which was the case after my second heart attack in September last year. You're obviously aware that you're moving, but you can't see any scenery as you are speeding along the road. At the A and E entrance I was transferred onto a wheelchair and taken ito the unit and the paramedics handed over the information about my incident. One of them had been writing up  notes on a sort of touch screen tablet computer, so I imagine that links into the computer system at the hospital and no doubt they could see my notes from past hospital visits rather than use a paper system, because I was soon issued with the obligatory wrist label with my name on it along with a bar code which the nurses use to identify me before doing any observations which include temperature, blood pressure and so on. The paramedics asked me if I was allergic to anything (which I'm not, fortunately.) and a list of the medications which I'm on, which I'm able to reel off without any problems. Also, I mentioned the stunts I had fitted in the John Radcliffe in Oxford and other details of my two heart attacks.

Once my information was handed over to the A and E staff I was put in one of the cubicles and lay on one of the trolleys, making sure my belongings, my jacket and lunchbox, were somewhere near by. I had my mobile phone and was able at a later time to text Garry, my neighbour, and ask if he could go into my house and feed and water Alfie and make sure he could get out. I later got a text back from Shelley to say she would do this as Garry was at work. So, at least I knew that Alfie would be fine. Garry and Shelley have a key which they've had for quite a while just in case of an incident that I'm now describing.

More 'obs' done. I was left for a while in the cubicle. A lot of staff scurrying about. Not particularly busy. I would imagine it would be busier in the evenings and more than likely at the weekend. A nurse comes in and says she's come to take blood. Not what I like to hear, particularly as I have an aversion to needles (if you've read any of my previous blog posts you will know why.) She manages to find a vein in my right arm. I keep my eyes tightly shut and the slight sting as the needle goes in is slight, but at least she has taken sufficient blood for it to be tested. It's supposed to show up if you have had a heart attack by a substance which is in your blood called triplin. Then I was carted off on the trolley and parked around the corner near the X ray department. I wasn't sure whether it was just to move me out of the way because they wanted my cubicle or whether I was going to have an X Ray. Someone was wheeled out and I assumed I was in the queue and then I was wheeled in and had to sit up, with this board put behind my back and an X ray was done. Over and done and wheeled out. Back to the cubicle and before I knew it, a doctor was closing the curtain around me (not that it would have made a lot of difference because you can still hear conversations with other parents, but I suppose it's to give a certain amount of privacy. I was informed that nothing showed up  in either the blood test or the X ray that suggested I'd had had a heart attack or anything heart-related. He asked me about my previous heart attacks and the sequence of events that had led up to the incident at Camphill, what medications I was on and so on. Fortunately I can remember fairly accurately what meds I am on and the list is on my iPhone. After that I was allowed to walk to a waiting area. Nowhere to lay down, just a couple of chairs that would allow you to lay down, but not particularly comfortable. I suppose if they had discovered something more serious, then I would have been able to remain on the trolley in the cubicle, but because it wasn't serious, I was expected to sit in the waiting area. I then was told that, because of my history of heart attacks, they would need to keep me in the unit for a further 6 hours and then do another blood test, just to make sure that there was nothing more serious going on.

I had my iPhone with me. I fortunately had the Netflix app installed and I was able to watch an episode of Upstart Crow, the sitcom based loosely (and I mean loosely) on the life of William Shakespeare, and that followed by what must have been the first episode of 'Porridge,' which I have seen several times before, but which stands the test of time brilliantly. Unfortunately I didn't manage to see to the end because the battery of the iPhone died and this meant I was left stranded with nothing to read and absolutely nothing to watch. A mother and daughter came in and sat opposite, paying a game on a tablet or mobile phone, and I attempted without success to snooze, but the chair I was sitting in, although it tipped back so I could lie down, was very uncomfortable and not really designed to allow me to sleep or snooze. Boredom crept in by now. By 7p.m. I would be able to give a further blood test, by time ticked by. I think it was time for the shift hand-over. I could see staff coming and going. There was a door which kept banging shut every time someone entered or left the A and E unit. If I needed the toilet I had to go through this door and the only way back in was to press the button to release the door (going out) and wait until and member of staff went through, using a swipe card to release the door. I asked a nurse when I was likely to have the blood test, being told it was necessary, six hours after the first (it certainly seemed longer.) Then a nurse came in to do take blood but couldn't find a vein in my arm. I have narrow arteries. This has always been a problem. She made an attempt at taking blood, but had to give up and got another nurse to attempt and after a while she managed to get a vein and took the necessary amount to be sent for testing. At last! I could see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. The final hour ticked by, and at around 7.45 a doctor came in and asked me to join him in a near-by office. He told me the results hadn't shown any signs of anything in the least heart-related and the pain I had experienced was most likely caused by heart-burn or acid reflux. A relief and it was really as I expected, but they had to follow the correct procedure in case it had been a heart related pain. Which meant I could leave, although I had to walk the relatively short distance home along the Redway, which takes about 10-15 minutes.

I went to Shelley and Garry's house to tell them the good news and Shelley said she had been next door to let Alfie out and took him for a walk, which I expect he would have loved. I cooked a plate of chips because I wasn't in a fit state to cook anything else at that precise moment. Oven chips and Heinz tomato ketchup was just the thing I needed after my several hours in the Accident and Emergency department. I was annoyed in some ways, because I was never offered anything to drink or eat, even a cup of tea would have been nice. I didn't have any money on me, so I couldn't have bought even a Mars bar out of the vending machine in the main waiting area of the A and E department. When I was taken to the John Radcliffe back in September after my second heart attack I was at least given a sandwich and a cup of tea. I appreciate that the staff are busy, but it would have been nice to have been at least asked. Just glad it all had a positive end. I think Alfie was more than pleased to see me when I walked in the front door of the house.

The following morning I rang for a taxi and drove to Camphill to collect the car, being surprised that it cost £6 for the privilege. 

Remembering Carol- Part 1

Today, 7th March 2019, would have been Carol's 55th birthday. I miss her so much, we had a fantastic marriage. We had  only recently had our 11th anniversary in the May, barely weeks before she was diagnosed with colorectal cancer. I'm not going to dwell on that. I want to celebrate her life, how she had such a sense of fun and spontaneity. 

We met through a Christian website called Fusion 101 in 2006. At the time I was working as a live-in carer for a young man with cerebral palsy. I stayed in his flat 24 hours a day and worked two weeks on and then one week off. I had started chatting to Carol via the internet and we discovered fairly early on that we had a lot in common, such as theatre, art, literature and just life in general and above all, that we were both Christians, which was very important to both of us. I then stopped chatting when I went off to work with the young man in Milton Keynes, bearing in mind that this was before smart phones and other devices that you could connect to the internet, so we weren't able to continue chatting. I had a computer connected to the internet at home in my flat, but this was well before wifi which is so easy to connect to than having your computer connected physically to an internet connection using a cable. Carol was working as a humanities teacher at Stantonbury school in Milton Keynes. She was having trouble teaching 'Twelfth Night,' but had absolutely no experience of teaching Shakespeare, even though she was expected to teach this as part of the humanities curriculum. Because I had such a huge interest in Shakespeare and had studied 'Twelfth Night' from G.C.E. Literature level right up to degree level, I was able to help her with lesson planning and understanding the text of this play. So we had that in common.

So there I was in mid-May in 2006, working with that young man in his bungalow in Milton Keynes. This particular week I was coming to the end of my stint and would have gone home on the Monday of that week and to be replaced by another support worker. But on the Saturday that week I began to get a pain in my chest. The previous week I had a bout of bronchitis and had almost got over it. I couldn't return home, because I realised that it would be difficult for the agency which I worked through would't have been able to find a substitute to take over from me. So, when I had this odd pain in my chest, I was assuming it was like heartburn or something related to the bronchitis. It didn't go away, so I walked to the local Tesco's to buy some mint tea, because I had used this in the past to relieve heartburn. But it didn't relieve the discomfort.

When I got back to my flat in Bedford I made an appointment with my doctor and mentioned the odd pain in my chest. I was given an examination but the doctor didn't say what it was. I think I had to have a blood test, but honestly don't remember. All I remember was that I was given a prescription for something called a G.T.N. spray and was told that, if the pain continued and didn't go away, I should read the instructions to use the spray, a few squirts under my tongue and rest for 5 minutes until the pain went away. I don't think the word 'angina' was mentioned, or if it was, I have no recollection and I certainly didn't connect it immediately with having a heart attack. You would have thought, as a carer I might have done, or from memories of my mother who had regular angina attacks, but that was in the late 1980s, well before the sort of mediation we have today. The fact is, that night the pain in my chest got worse and worse, but being me, and doing what most men do, or are supposed to do, I imagined it would go away. Ignoring it was the only option. I didn't want to ring 999 as I should have done, the thought was, I didn't want to bother anyone. I could cope with this thing on my own. But I couldn't. By around 6a.m. I just had to ring 999 and call and ambulance. It's just as well I did. The paramedics arrived, by which time I was hyperventilating and it took them some time to calm me down. I was taken downstairs to the awaiting ambulance which was parked on the grass outside the block of flats where I lived.

I'm going on a bit here. I hadn't meant to. But it explains how Carol and I met. Anyway, I was rushed off to hospital, where I was given the message that I'd had a heart attack and stayed there for a week. Meanwhile Carol must have wondered what had happened to me. Perhaps I had lost interest. She had no idea where I was or what was going on.

I eventually arrived home, not in exactly top condition health-wise. I wasn't particularly strong and could hardly walk. I was given a load of medication to take which I was told I'd have to take for the rest of my life and  that  I wouldn't be able to drive for at least a month, which was difficult, because I'm quite an independent person and can't stand not being able to get out and about. Carol and I continued to chat via the internet, for a few weeks. The one day she said 'I'm going to phone you.' So she did, and it was the fist time I heard her voice. She said 'come to Milton Keynes and we can meet.' So, it just happened that I was okay to drive, more than a month since I had the heart attack. She said 'meet me at Furzton Lake.' I didn't have the faintest idea exactly where that was. Today you'd use Google Maps, or if you had one, a SatNav, but it was well before this sort of technology was available. It just shows how much we rely on it nowadays to find our way about.

I went to the wrong carpark. I went to Caldecotte Lakes, the place with the pub with the windmill on the top. I'm not sure if it's original or a sort of reconstruction, but does it matter? Then Carol telephoned me on her mobile. 'Where are you?' she asked, and I told her. It wasn't Furzton Lakes, as I soon discovered. She turned up in her car, along with her dog, Poppy. What was she expecting? Tall dark and handsome? Driving a B.M.W. or some open-top spots car? No. Instead a clapped out Renault 5 and a similarly-clapped-out bloke who could barely walk properly since his heart attack. I certainly wasn't at my best, so it wouldn't have surprised me if she'd taken one look and driven away, but she didn't.

We went for a walk, although I wasn't exactly steady on my feet. We took the dog with us and she jumped in the lake, which added to the fun of things and got us talking. She (the dog, that is.) come out of the lake and shook herself, most of it all over me, so that was a good start to things. We went into the pub to have a drink and continued to talk.

I can't complete this in one blog post, so I'll have to continue in a second post. There's so much I want to write about, which can't be done in just one post.

Carol Moves to Castlemead Court

On Sunday, when I visited Carol a good deal later than I usually visit, I learned that Carol was moving to Castlemead Court in Newport Pagnell. One of the nurses came into her room at Willen to say that transport had been booked to take her there and I would need to start packing her belongings as there wouldn't be room on the ambulance for more than one bag of things, so most of her belongings would need to be transported in our car.

On Monday morning I was told that there would be an ambulance to take Carol from Willen Hospice to Castlemead Court and that it was booked for between 11-11.30 a.m., but they didn't actually arrive until about 1.30. Carol missed lunch, but she had a bowl of soup. We'd managed to pack up all her belongings into several carrier bags which were put in the back of the car. Carol was transferred from her bed onto a stretcher by the paramedics and wheeled out to the ambulance. I drove off out of the carpark and I soon caught up with the ambulance as it left Willen Village and managed to follow it all the way to Newport Pagnell and I was surprised how close it was to Castlemead Court, probably no more than two miles.

On arrival at Castlemead the paramedics unloaded Carol on the stretcher and wheeled her into the unit and I followed with as much of the bags as i could carry and took them into the unit and into the room where she was ensconced a few minutes before I arrived.

It's a friendly enough place, Castlemead. Carol has learnt that she is the youngest person there. A lot of altzeimers sufferers, people in wheelchairs, a lot of screaming and someone calling out constantly. Carol prefers to have her door open, but it's sometimes necessary to close it when there's too much noise. She has been asleep or at least very drowsy when I have arrived in the morning and she's usually being given a wash and the bedding changed when I turn up, so I have to wait in the lounge area, which is just opposite her room. Plenty of armchairs to sit in and a large-screen television. They have put up Christmas decorations. You can always go into the kitchen area in the dining room to make a cup of tea or coffee and Carol gets a choice at meal-time. I generally help her eat her breakfast or lunch. There is a menu on the wall along the corridor so you can always check what there is for each meal, all prepared fresh on the premises.

The big issue I have with Castlemead is finding a place to park. I find if I get there early enough, around 10 a.m., I can usually park easily. On Wednesday, when I drove over from Milton Keynes, I have come via Willen, along Brickhill Street, but that day there I found out until far too late that the road was closed so I had to drive towards the city centre and go via Monk's Way, the road that goes towards Chichley and Only, and cut through to Newport Pagnell along the usual road I take into the centre of the town. Just annoying that I wasn't informed of the road closure earlier and had to drive several miles out of my way.

Staff are allowed to bring their dogs to work. So there can be a couple of really delightful dogs running about the unit. One, called Charlie, does tricks. You have to know the hand gestures that will get him to 'sit' or 'roll over,' and then give him a treat out of a box which is kept near the television. Carol loves him, and he was put on her bed to stroke. A really good way to motivate residents, in particular, those with alzheimer's. On my first arrival when I was viewing the place last week, I was greeted at the front door by a little shitzu, which was one half of our dog, Poppy, who was a cross Westie/ Schitzu. It barked at me and kept coming up to me and then when I arrived on one of the upper floors I was greeted by two, what I think were pugs. I think Charlie is a pug, but I'm not exactly sure.

999 Paramedics Call

Carol was  violently sick all Sunday afternoon. It calmed down for a couple of hours, but by 11.30 it was necessary to call 999. An ambulance arrived within 10 minutes and the paramedics did an assessment and it was decided that she should go to the emergency department at Milton Keynes hospital. I followed in our car and met up with Carol within the hospital. Fortunately it was relatively quiet and we spent around four hours as the nurses and doctors got things under control. It was decided that she should have to be observed and would need to remain in hospital and that the doctors and surgeons would meet up during today (Monday) to decide a pathway for her treatment. She was taken to Ward 20 where the nurse on Emergency handed over to the staff on Ward 20. I will be returning later this morning to be in attendance when the meeting is held to decide how Carol's treatment will be set up. I will post on here as things evolve.

Later

I've been in to see Carol this morning. She wasn't in a happy frame of mind, unfortunately. She's in a side-ward, so it's a good deal quieter than being in the main ward. Extremely busy. The nurses are very good at what they do as well as friendly, which makes things better. I've been to the Macmillan unit, which is on the floor below ward 20. I have had a brief chat with one of the counsellors there and have made an appointment for 8th November.

I had to come home as I needed to have something to eat. I went to Sainsbury's for a sandwich and had to buy a new mop as things need cleaning around the house. Fortunately it's sunny and mild, but last night, when I returned to the car to come home, there was some ice on the car's windscreen. It took a while to defrost. It's a good thing the new car as efficient heating and the windscreen has a heat strip to melt any ice. This morning I went to the hospital after 9 a.m. and parked as usual. On leaving later, I had to go to the ticket machine to pay, as you take a ticket from the machine when you enter the carpark and then put this ticket in the machine to pay on the way out and then use the ticket to get the barrier to lift when you leave. The machine would not accept my debit card, for whatever reason, and I couldn't read the digital display as the sun was too bright to make it clear to read. I asked a lady passer-by where the nearest pay machine might be as the one I'd tried wasn't cooperating and she said if I drove to the barrier and pressed a certain button I might be able to leave without having to pay if I said the machine was faulty. In driving to the barrier I found the barrier raised and I could leave with having to pay. This happened a few weeks ago when we were at the hospital so no doubt there was a technical problem with the ticket machine. Thankfully, because I saved at least £4.50.

Heart, Hospital, and Home . . . Part the First

I've been in hospital again. This will be the fourth time, the first when I had the initial heart attack (MI to give it it's proper technical name. Myocardial Infarction.) and now three more visits to the hospital in Milton Keynes, following bouts of chest pain caused by angina. The first time was when I woke in the night and had to go to the loo (as one does . . .) I think it was brought on by cold that time. The second bout was when I was working for Guardian and had to lift a wheelchair in and out of my car. I then had to go to hospital when the pain didn't subside. This third bout started two weeks ago. On the Monday the pain returned, and didn't go away. I used the Nitrolingual spray as usual, three puffs under my tongue, but the pain continued.   Carol said that I should make an appointment to see the doctor. I was somewhat baffled by the fact that I haven't had any sort of appointment with the cardiology department at MK Hospital in months and months, not some sort of follow-up after the last hospital visit. Then it occurred to me that they might have written, but that any letter that was sent had gone to our old address, which would explain things. Anyway, Daniel (my Stepson) told me off for not going, so I went to the surgery as soon as it opened, but they couldn't see me that day, and the receptionist said that she'd get one of the doctors to telephone me. I was then told off for not ringing 999 if I had chest pain. I went home, and later in the morning I did get a call from one of the doctors, and he said that he'd need to refer me to the cardiology department at the hospital for an appointment. Again, I was told, if the pain came back (as, by this time, it had gone off.) I was to ring for an ambulance immediately.

Anyway, things were fine for the rest of that day, Monday, until Wednesday lunchtime, I was about to sit down and do some reading, doing nothing very active or in any way shape or form or indeed, what you'd call strenuous, when the pain came back. I used the Nitrolingual spray, and just sat and waited for it to take effect. It is supposed to take about five minutes, but it didn't work. I tried it again, and after a further five minutes it didn't make any difference, the tightness in my chest continued.

At around 3 p.m. I was beginning to get somewhat anxious, and memories of the original heart attack came back, and when the spray had no effect on the pain, I rang 999.   By the time I got through to the operator I was hyperventilating, and I was told to chew three asprin (I take soluble asprin as part of my medication.) They taste bad enough when dissolved in water, but chewing them in your mouth is nasty, to say the least! I gave details of what was going on, and I was told to have the front door open ready for the ambulance to arrive. I was concerned for the dogs, so I got them into the kitchen and shut the door. Poppy is o.k., but I know that, if Alfie gets out he will run off up the road, although he will suddenly realise that he doesn't like it outside, and on his own, and then run home. But he has no sense of danger and would get run over. Apart from that, he would be in the way when the paramedics arrived.

At this point I was concerned that, if I was going to be taken to hospital, I would have to lock up the house, and that Carol would wonder where on earth I was. I imagine that she would have worked out where I'd gone, and she would be thinking all the wrong things, so I decided to phone the mobile (which she had taken to work with her, with exactly this eventuality in mind.) I rang the number, and all I got was my voice on the voicemail! I have done a somewhat sarcastic voice which greets callers when they decide to leave messages for us. I left a message, but was still concerned that she hadn't answered, and, besides that, I never trust these answering services and prefer to speak to someone direct.

Within barely five minutes of my dialling 999 a car marked 'ambulance' drew up outside the house, and a lady paramedic came to the door and came inside the house. I was surprised by the speed of her arrival, but then I realised that there was no excuse as regards getting here as the hospital is only a short distance, away infact our house is immediately behind Milton Keynes hospital. She connected me to an E.C.G. so as to do a heart-check. She ran the checks and then the proper paramedics arrived. I have never had a PRE-PARAMEDIC arrive first before the actual ambulance arrived. She handed over and then it was up to the two male paramedics to decide whether I needed to go to Accident and Emergency.

Then they told me, unbelievably, that I  might be going to Oxford Hospital, rather than Milton Keynes, which seemed odd, considering how far away we were from Milton Keynes Hospital. We went outside into the ambulance which was parked immediately outside the house, and they connected me to their own E.C.G. machine. It was from this reading that they decided I should go to A and E. In the end they informed me that we were going to Milton Keynes Hospital to have me checked out, as this is the procedure for anyone with a history of heart problems, and particularly someone like me, who has had a heart attack.

By now I was beginning to get concerned that Carol hadn't got my message and would worry where I was. I told the paramedics, and they told me that, once I got to A and E one of the nurses there could ring her.

I was able to lock the house up just before the ambulance drove out of the estate.

I had nothing with me as regards staying over-night in the hospital. Under any other circumstances I would have prepared some sort of bag with pyjamas, toothpaste, toothbrush and shaving things, as well as some sort of reading material, my iPod and something else to keep me occupied, as my previous experience of being in hospital is that I get extremely bored and need these things to take my mind off the boredom, but I was unable to organize any of these items. In any case, my iPod wasn't charged up, and I hadn't put anything on it that I could listen to in hospital.

It didn't take very long to get to the hospital. Well, it isn't that far, but it's odd being driven somewhere when you can't see where you're going, so I'm not exactly sure which way we went out of the estate and then which way we went into the hospital campus.

 . . . To be continued . . .

My Heart Attack

I'm new at this. Well, there's a first time for everything, I suppose. At one time the very thought of a computer would bring me out in goose-bumps. But here I am, using the internet, writing letters on my Mac, sending emails and now writing a blog! Whatever next?

Why am I at home, in the middle of the day, you may be asking, which allows me time to write this? A fairly simple answer (if anything is simple!). I had a heart-attack on the night of 17th/18th of May 2006 . Not something I was expecting, but it happened. If I hadn't rung the '999' emergency number for an ambulance, I might not be here now.

I worked as a carer for a young man who had cerebal Palsy. I 'lived-in' with him, and did two-weeks at a time. The pain started on the Saturday at the middle of my two-week period. I felt quite awful, but really thought that it was no more than a chest infection as I had had a bout of bronchitis the previous week and imagined that this pain was associated with that. I had to walk to the local shop to get milk and also got mint tea as I thought that the pain might be a sort of heart-burn or indigestion and this would help to relieve it. I knew that it would be really difficult to leave to go home as I have to remain with David as he can't look after himself (the whole point of being a live-in carer, of course.) If I'd rung the agency whom I work for, I very much doubt that they would have been able to send a replacement at short notice. So, unless things improved, I would just have to remain with him and wait until I went home to deal with things. I went to a chemist and got some linctus, thinking that this would relieve things. Of course, it didn't. On the day I was due to leave and to hand over to the next carer I rang my doctor and made an appointment for later that afternoon. I went to the doctor and I was given antibiotics, as the doctor wasn't sure what the pain was. When, by the end of a week, the pain hadn't gone away, and I taken all the tablets, I returned to the doctor's surgery. I saw a different doctor this time, and when she said the word 'angina' then things started to make sense and I got slightly scared (to say the least.) She told me to ring '999' if the pain kept on, and gave me a prescription for a red spray which I had to spray under my tongue if the pain didn't stop.I really thought, when the 'thing' first happened, that it was a chest infection. I'm not the sort of person who makes a fuss about things. I usually just 'get on' with things, which is basically because I'm a carer. I'm used to looking after OTHER people, and I suppose I haven't looked after myself, hence the surprise when I was in need of care and attention.

The following two days I got some chest pain, so I used the spray. It happened several more times. By the Wednesday evening it didn't go away. At around 7.30 I decided to settle down to watch some television, and the pain started, but this time it didn't go away. I used the spray, but it didn't seem to help. I thought to myself, 'I may need to ring 999 for an ambulance.' But I decided that I wouldn't need one, and continued using the spray. I thought to myself 'I don't want to bother anyone at this time of night! If I need an ambulance, I can ring after 9 in the morning!' I even prepared a holdall with clothes that I would need for a hospital stay. That's the sort of person I am, as a carer, I have to be organised to look after someone else. As the night progressed, the pain didn't go away, in fact it got worse. By 6 in the morning I had to ring 999 as the pain was really bad. Within 20 minutes the paramedics arrived at my flat. I was getting stressed and was hyperventilating, so they had to calm me down and used oxygen which was given to me through a mask over my face. They eventually walked me down to the ambulance which was drawn up to the front entrance of the block of flats. Well, I thought, if I can walk, I can't be too bad. As we left the flat, one of the paramedics told me to bring some cash with me as I'd need to pay for a taxi to bring me home, so I imagined that I'd be at the hospital for an hour or so and then come home by taxi. How wrong could I be! My hospital stay lasted a week.

We got the the hospital and I went into the Accident and Emergency department. I was told to lay on a trolley in a curtained-off area. A tablet was put in my mouth and I was told not to swallow it but to hold it under my tongue. An X Ray was taken of my chest. Doctors and nurses came and went and a canula was put in the back of my hand. I was left alone for what seemed like ages. Nurses came and went, but they wouldn't tell me anything. I really wanted to know what was causing the pain. No answer was forthcoming. After what seemed quite some time I was informed by one of the nurses that I was going to be moved to the Acute ward. I wasn't sure what that meant. Why couldn't I just go home? Why couldn't someone just tell me what was causing the pain?? I was kept on the trolley and pushed rather unceremoniously out of the Accident and Emergency department and through the corridors of the hospital until we arrived at the Acute ward. I seem to remember that a doctor did come and speak to me, and the words 'heart attack' were actually mentioned. I didn't stay on the Acute ward for long as I was evenutally moved to the Coronary Care Unit which is several floors up from the Acute ward, and by this time I realised that if I was in the Coronary Care Unit things certainly weren't too good for me! All during this the pain in my chest was continuing.

I had to give one of the nurses my daughter Chloe's phone number, as none of my family knew what had happened to me and where I was. She turned up later in the evening to visit me, which was a real surprise, as she was in Worcester, where she is at university. Also, someone I know through my church, Steve LePage, was also telephoned, and he and his wife visited me during my stay in hospital.

I haven't spent a great deal of time in hospital. I had my appendix out when I was 12, but I haven't spent any length of time in hospital more recently. I had never realised what a noisy place a ward could be. At night there is always the sound of something or other. I was connected to a monitor, for heart-rate, pulse etc. Other people on the ward were also on these things, as well as drips etc. I had several of these, connected to me via a canular in the arm. When the drug or whatever that they administer runs out the machine automatically sounds an alarm, and these keep going off all night, and the duty nurse will come and replace the drug. Also, as part of the on-going observation ('obs') you have an E.C.G. attached to your chest by way of electrodes and this measures your heartrate etc. I am also somewhat impressed by all this modern technology, as well as the blood-pressure monitoring system which in some cases can automatically take your blood pressure, for example, at night. The thing automatically inflates and takes your blood pressure. One poor man had one which took his blood pressure every hour on the hour all night. I doubt very much whether he actually got a good night's sleep.

It took three days for the doctors and nurses to get the pain under control and at one time I was on morphene and warfarin, which is also used as a rat-poison! It is used becuse it helps to prevent blood clots, but as a result of this I was advised not to shave for several days, because if I cut myself it would be difficult to stop the bleeding. I don't like going without shaving, so as soon as I was able, and after I was taken off the Warfarin, I shaved again. There was a time when one of the canulas was taken out of my arm, but the nurse who did it forgot I was on Warfarin and there was quite a flow of blood when the canula was taken out. Not nice.

As I write this I've been for an angiogram at Bedford Hospital and have also had a Stress Test and two M.I.B.I. scans at Papworth Hospital. I expect that I will get an appointment within the next week or so with one of the heart specialists at Bedford Hospital and from that I will learn what they have discovered from the scans. I'm not too worried about all this as I know that they know what they're doing.

Well, the reports eventually came back from all the tests and I was told that I wouldn't need any sort of surgery, and that the medication I was put on is sufficient to manage my heart problems. I don't need any sort of surgery.

The medication I was originally put on was Clopodogrel, (which I have since been taken off by my doctor.), Bisoprolol, Pravastatin and Dispersible Asprin. I have been on several types of Statin tablets, but they have had severe side-effects. When I was in hospital the Statin drugs I was on gave me flu-like symptoms, and it wasn't until I talked to one of the nurses that I discovered that this was that particular statin drug which had that side effect, so it was changed to another type. I have since been on several other types of Statin drugs, all of which have side effects, usually upsetting my stomach, causing me to run to the toilet a great deal, stomach and muscle cramps, sleeplessness and tiredness. This seems to be fairly general with these drugs, but I have found that Pravastatin has the least side effects. The statins are for lowering the level of cholesterol in my blood, which is what causes blood clots and leads to heart attacks and strokes. Asprin prevents blood clots.

I have had two emergency visits to hospital, one when I had a really bad angina attack and another similar one in May 2007. On both occasions I had to stay in over-night as they wanted to keep an eye on me. After the May 2007 attack I had to undergo two sessions of tests, one done on a treadmill, to test my heart's strength, and another where they put a drug into my blood stream which made my heart beat faster, as if I had been doing strenuous evercise, and they used an ultra sound scan to see my heart working. On both cases it appeared relatively healthy. I have not had any really severe angina attacks since then, but if I do get an attack I use the red spray, which helps to relieve the pain.