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.
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.
