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.

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.

Bloodtests and other Matters

I hadn't had a blood test for at least a year. I'm keen to keep a check on my cholesterol levels because if it's too high there is always a risk of another clot which could lead to me having another heart attack. I'd had a letter from Ashfield Medical Centre to have my blood pressure done at their self-service unit within the waiting area of the surgery, which I did a week or two ago. It's not difficult to do and they've now put it behind a screen so that you don't have to endure other people waiting watching you, which rather put me off doing it myself. It is easy to use and the instructions are clear and the machine prints out the results and then you hand this over to the receptionist who then adds it to your notes. In some ways I suppose this is a good idea because it frees up the staff to do other things and you just do it yourself so you don't have to make an appointment.

As regards giving blood for a test has always been a bit of a problem for me. For a start, I don't like needles, particularly when they're stuck in my arm, or leg or any other part of my body. When I was in hospital, particularly when I was in the C.C.U. (Coronary Care Unit) at Bedford Hospital  I had some of the blood-thinning medications administered by hypodermic in my stomach. I think Carol had the same when she was in hospital. It's not to painful, but I think just thinking about it is unpleasant. As regards the blood test giving-of-blood, my problem is that it goes back to quite a few years ago when I lived in Bedford and probably at a time when I changed doctors surgeries and had to have an early-morning blood test and wasn't supposed to eat anything for around 12 hours beforehand. I went along to the blood-test unit at Bedford North Wing Hospital in Kimbolton Road. The actual taking of the blood wasn't too bad. It was when I left I went outside and then felt woosey and had to sit down on a low wall as I was feeling positively faint. I keeled over and fell on the ground, not pleasant, particularly as I wasn't capable of getting up. At that precise moment I think an ambulance arrived and I heard running feet as people were coming towards me. I could see them, but I heard them. I was taken into a building on the hospital campus and had a chance to recover and was then taken to Accident and Emergency to be checked over before being sent home, but the whole incident was somewhat embarrassing because I shouldn't have fainted as a result of the blood test. Most likely it was caused because I hadn't eaten for 12 hours. It's that horrible feeling when I have given blood that I'm going to feel faint and will pass out that is the worst part of the whole thing and I have to make sure I'm laying down when they start the procedure so there isn't a repetition of what happened all those years ago.

When I was in hospital after having my heart attack in 2006 I had to endure giving blood virtually every day of the week I was in the C.C.U. This was often a problem and on one occasion the nurse who did it couldn't find a suitable vain and wanted to take blood from the back of my hand, which I wouldn't allow. On an earlier occasion when I'd gone to my doctor when I lived in Bedford the nurse insisted  that a second nurse be present when I had to give blood, almost making it appear that I was the cause of the problem when they could find a vain and I was told it was because I had narrow veins or something or other, which didn't help either, but then on another occasion the nurse (or phlebotomist, to give the proper term for someone who takes blood) said she's use a special, narrow hypodermic needle which were supposed to be used on children or babies. Also, if I had such narrow pains, it might have contributed to my heart attack. Anyway, of someone of my age, I have exceptionally good skin tone and you can't see any raised blood vessels as a result. Drink plenty, I was told, before you go to have a blood test, because if you're dehydrated, your veins don't expand apparently which makes the finding of a suitable vain virtually impossible. I can see what they mean, because a hose without water in it isn't rigid, one filled with water expands, as it would a vain with blood in it.  When I came out of hospital after the week of being on the C.C.U. in 2006, one of my arms was black and blue with bruising where they'd taken blood. When Carol was in Milton Keynes Hospital recently she had a P.I.C.C. (Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter) line inserted for her chemotherapy and they used that to take blood from her arm.

I also recall when I was on the C.C.U. at Bedford Hospital in 2006 being given warfarin as part of my medication care plan. It's given to help prevent blood clotting. I don't think I can have been given it for long, just until the threat of another clot was reduced. Unfortunately, when one of the nurses came to remove a canal I had in my wrist, she forget about the blood-thinning properties of the warfarin (no doubt not looking at my care notes sufficiently) because as soon as it was removed there was a spout of blood from the place where the canal was in my wrist. Strangely enough I never had a problem with having a canula inserted in my arm when I was in hospital, unlike when giving blood at other times.

More House Cleaning

It was too hot yesterday to even think of cleaning the house. I took a load of cardboard and other rubbish to the tidy-tip, as mentioned in the last post. They said on the BBC Evening News that it was the hottest day so far this summer. I can well believe it. I was getting rather concerned when I started to get a tightness in my chest. A bit like angina. I used my G.T.N. spray and it did relieve it, but on the news they did say there was a health warning, to keep out of the sun and to not stay out in it where at all possible. The N.H.S. has issued a level 3 heat health warning to people with chronic long term health issues, (which I imagine would include myself, with a heart condition) and particularly keep out of the sun where necessary during the hottest part of the day, which would be between 11a.m and 3 p.m. The hottest place yesterday was Santon Downham, in Suffolk, with a recorded temperature of 33.3C. I know more or less where that is. It's not far from the road towards Norwich and Brandon, which was the base for some television work I did years ago and around where ''Allo,'Allo" was filmed in the 1980's.

Later. I went to Sainsbury's early. Same sort of shopping as usual, something for tonight's meal. Just salad bits as I don't fancy anything hot when the weather is so warm.

I drove into the hospital campus and waited at the entrance to the carpark, but the woman in the car in front was having problems with the barrier; it didn't want to rise. Stubborn refusal methinks. There was a car in the road in front of me. I couldn't work out what the driver was intending to do. A van arrived and a man got out. I think he was a security man, or at least a workman who was going to fix the barrier. Well, to at least get it to rise and let us through so we could park. No, the confounded things was steadfastly refusing. Just not playing ball. Just abandon the thing completely as the heat wasn't exactly helping matters. I gave up waiting. The heat wasn't exactly helping, so I decided to drive home and park the car and then walk in. I wasn't over-keen to have to walk in the intense heat, but there seemed no alternative.

After lunch (which was a bowl of tepid soup and a dried excuse for a ham sandwich. Surely it's possible to make a sandwich that isn't shrivelled up. Food from the British Rail school of catering, anyone?) as I was saying, after lunch one of the doctors came with some more encouraging news. They had found an antibiotic which could be administered which would work the infection and for two weeks Carol would need to come into the hospital on a daily basis to have this given via a P.I.C.C. line or something similar, possibly something which is mid-way between a canula and a line, which Carol had for her chemotherapy, but which was removed recently. No clear indication as to them the line would be fitted or exactly when Carol would be discharged. Hopefully tomorrow (Friday). Don't cross your fingers because if Carol is given the go-ahead to be discharged tomorrow it can take five hours for all the paperwork to be done as well as sorting out any medication that she will take home with her, as I can attest when I was in hospital some while ago. First a doctor had to sign the paperwork and it just went on for ever (figuratively, not literally.)

Wednesday morning. As I write this the house is spotless. I don't think it has been as clean. Alfie must be wondering what on earth is going on. There are one or two things that need wiping, such as windowsills, but I'm not getting to obsessive. I now just want the inspection over and done with so I can relax.

Another Hospital Appointment

Carol had a hospital appointment this morning. A bit of a surprise that it was a Sunday, but if it meant  not having to wait it was worthwhile. We could have walked as Milton Keynes Hospital is right behind our house, but I thought she wouldn't fancy walking home after the scan she we went in the car. It was for a scan to get to what is causing her problems. We got to the hospital well before the time stated in the letter she got. A good 45 minutes. We parked in the multi-storey carpark within the hospital campus and then walked in through the main entrance. Then the long walk to the C.T. department. That l-o--n-g corridor is becoming very familiar to me. We eventually found the C.T. scan department and she went through the reception desk to check in. She had to go without eating for several hours before hand and had to drink water because of the scan. Not many other people waiting and those that were in the waiting area soon got called and went in and came out fairly rapidly. Then she got called in. I didn't think I would be allowed near the scan room so I stayed in the main waiting area but I soon went through with Carol to the scan area. X rays as well as C.T. scans done in the same area. There were to be two scans. The second one would be done after Carol had some sort of die injected into her arm. She had to wait around 15 minutes for the dye to circulate in her blood supply and the second scan done. I think it was so they could compare the two scans. After the first scan was done she appeared with a canula in her arm which would be used to inject the dye. So, after the second scan was done she came out and the canula removed from her arm and we were able to leave. Back to the entrance and into the small shop to buy milk and something for lunch and the back to the car. There was a ticket machine in the entrance hall but we couldn't get it to work. You put your parking ticket in them machine and it should show how much you owe and you can either pay with cash or use your debit or credit card to pay. The machine would not work so we walked the short distance to the multi-storey carpark and fortunately got the ticket machine there to work allowing us to leave the carpark. Another peculiar arrangement in the carpark which confused us as to where you could leave. Driving round in circles before it became obvious where you exited.

Anyway, the appointment was over and we could go home. She has another appointment during the week ahead. The results from today's scan should be available in around two weeks time.

Giving Blood

I had a letter in the post  this morning from my doctor's surgery, Ashfield  Medical Centre , telling me that they had made an appointment for me to have a blood test and my blood pressure done at the surgery. I'm not used to having an appointment pre-booked like this. You usually have to make such appointments yourself, which can generally be quite difficult as you have to ring the surgery the same day and it can take some time to get through on the phone during busy periods. I presume you get an automatic blood test and blood pressure check after so many months if you have a long-term health issue such as a heart condition as as I have. We changed our doctor's surgery because at the previous one we had a couple of issues, one being  the receptionist not dealing with personal details particularly confidentially when you went in to make an appointment.  I really object to having everyone waiting hearing my conversation when speaking at the reception-desk. I do recall when I worked for the N.H.S. (for the Learning Disability Service in Bedfordshire.) client confidentiality being a priority. So we transferred to Ashfield Medical Centre and have been with them around a year or so now and have had no problems.

I'll be honest and admit that I'm not good at giving blood. I can't think of many people who actually do, or admit that they do. I don't particularly like needles, and certainly when they're stuck into my arm, or, indeed, any part of my anatomy if it comes to that. Generally, if I have to have a jab, say, for 'flu, then I don't have a problem. It might be like a slight bee sting, a sort of tingle in the arm, but when it comes to having to give blood, then that is an altogether different ball-game, kettle of fish, call it what you will. I think this started when I lived in Bedford and had to go to Bedford Hospital to give blood for a test and it was a fasting blood test, meaning I wasn't supposed to eat for a good 12 hours beforehand. And it was early morning, which didn't help, so I was feeling hungry when I arrived at the hospital. I gave the sample and that bit was easy. I felt slightly queasy and left the clinic too quickly. I should have waited before leaving, but was really in too much of a hurry to go home. When I got outside I think the fresh air hit me suddenly. I found I had to sit down on a low wall in the carpark, but I didn't remain seated for long because I found myself keeling over and collapsing on the ground, with a mouthful of gravel in my mouth. At that precise moment an ambulance arrived in the hospital grounds and I could hear footsteps approaching as a group of paramedics came over to me to find out what was the matter. I think I had blacked out. I was taken into a room in the hospital and tended to and eventually was taken to the Accident and Emergency department at South Wing Hospital at Bedford and checked over and after a while went home. It was somewhat embarrasing, to say the least as I'm, not used to being fussed over like I was and being the centre of things.

On one occasion at the doctor's surgery in Bedford I was made to feel as if I had a major problem and was almost a trouble-maker when the nurse had problems finding a vein in my arm and the fact that I was liable to pass out because she was taking so long to take the blood from my arm, and that she had to get a second nurse in to help. I do find it easier if I'm laying down when they do this, so that if I do start to pass out I am at least laying down.

At our old doctor's surgery they realised that there was a problem with me giving blood because I apparently have narrow veins, making it difficult to extract blood, even after tapping a vein, getting me to drink plenty (as dehydration will make veins difficult to find.) and eventually using a needle designed for taking blood from babies! They had one of the doctors in their practice who was particularly good at taking blood, which is unusual as this job is usually done by the nurses in the surgery.

When I first had my heart attack and was in the C.C.U. (Coronary Care Unit) at Bedford Hospital I had to give blood several times a day. They had real difficulties getting a vein up, trying to take it from my arm, in the crook of my elbow and even said they could try in my hand or my foot, which I refused. I think it would be really unpleasant if it was from my hand. By the end of the week I spent in hospital my arm was black and blue due to the blood being taken, and looked more as if I had been bruised! The strange thing is I never seem to have any problems when they put a canula in the back of my hand or wrist when I've been in hospital, as you would imagine that that would be more uncomfortable than merely taking blood. I think the problem with giving blood is when the nurse takes ages and fiddles around, sticks the needle in, leaves the thing in a vein for what seems like ages then takes it out, then says she can't get any blood, then tries in another part of my arm, which is when I start to feel really queasy and start to feel faint.

Medications Side Effects

It's one thing having had a heart attack, but it's quite another that you have to contend with the side effects of the medications that you are prescribed. When I originally went into hospital, having had my heart attack, I was put on a range of medication, mostly to relieve pain. I had Warfarin to thin my blood and thus to prevent further blood clots. I recall that when a nurse was taking out the canula which was in my wrist, at around the time I was discharged, there was a quite a spectacular flow of blood as she had not noted that I was on Warfarin (which prevents not only blood clots, put prevents wounds from healing quickly.) I was put on statins, and the first type had the effect of giving me flu-like symptoms, which were rather unpleasant, to say the least. It wasn't until I discussed my state of health with one of the nurses on the C.C.U. ward that I learnt that this flu-like symptom was a side effect of taking this particular statin drug (which is used to control cholestrol levels in the blood.) I don't exactly remember what the name of this drug was, but I was soon put on another statin which didn't at first appear to have such violent side effects. I was also put on Bisoprolol (which I am still on, but at a much lower dosage, 5 mg.) I was also on Clopodogrel and soluble asprin (another drug to keep the blood thin and thus prevent clots.) 

Some of the side effects of the drugs, particularly statins, are that they give you muscle cramps. Without beating around the bush, another is rather unpleasant, bloating, flatulance and diarrhoea. Sometimes this can be very violent and you can spend quite a lot of time running to the toilet, and it can be quite uncomfortable. On the other hand, it can also have the opposite effect, constipation. Sorry if this is rather  too graphic for some people, but I'm writing this on this blog to try and help anyone else who is going through a similar experience. If my experiences can be shared with others then I hope it comes as some sort of comfort to know that there are others who have had a similar experience.

According to the leaflet which comes with a packet of Pravastatin it gives a list of possible side-effects. It reads as follows:
Dizziness
Headache
Sleeping problems
Sleeping disturbances
Vision disturbance such as blurred or double vision
Stomach upsets (such as feeling or being sick, constipation, diarrhoea, flatulance, indigestion and stomach pains.)
Hair loss
Rash
Itchiness
Tiredness
Feeling of weakness
Changes in the way your liver works
Heartburn
Bladder problems (painful or frequent urination

Very rare side effects:
Numbness or loss of sensation in the arms and legs
Tingling or pins and needles (paresthesia)
Inflammation of the liver or pancreas
Severe allergic reactions including localised swelling of the face/lips and/or throat
Yellowing of the skin and whites of the eyes (jaundice)
Muscle and joint pain

When I was first put on statins (although it might have been caused by other drugs I was on.) I used to get tingling in my feet and sometimes my fingers, and a sort of numb sensation in the soles of my feet, but that gradually went off after a couple of weeks. 

Immediately after I had the heart attack (which was back in May 2006.) I felt really depressed. I was told that this was a normal reaction to what had happened to me. I discussed this with a nurse on the C.C.U. Most men don't like to talk about their health, and particularly not depression. I have had a few periods of clinical depression, a couple of years before my heart attack, but I haven't experienced anything that severe since my heart attack. 

I was put on isosorbide mononitrate fairly recently, as an alternative to using glycerol trinitrate spray, which I used whenever I got an attack of angina. It was prescribed the last time I was in hospital back in October. It does seem to work, and I haven't had any severe angina attacks since then. But I get quite severe headaches and I'm sure it's that medication which causes insomnia. I go to bed as normal, but after a few hours I wake up, generally to go to the toilet, but then I cannot get back to sleep. I was told by my consultant at Milton Keynes Hospital that this drug would cause headaches for the first month or two, but that it would gradually ease off, which it did, but the headaches seem to have come back, but not quite as severely as when I first took this drug. The drug makes the blood vessels widen so as to increase blood flow, and this is very prominent in the brain, hence headaches (if you use the red spray,glyceryl trinitrate, you do find that you get headaches, as well as feeling light-headed, which is another effect of the iosborbide mononitrate, although I admit that it's not unpleasant, rather similar to the feeling you get when you've had one too many alcoholic drinks, but without the other unpleasant side-effects you get with alcohol.)

I can feel extremely tired. This particularly was a side effect of not only taking some of the drugs, but the effect of actually having a heart attack. A heart attack is a very traumatic experience in itself, and tiredness is the body's way of repairing itself. If I over-exert myself, like going on long walks, I find that my leg muscles can get quite painful, but if I rest for a short while, stop and sit down, this soon eases off. 

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.