Keeping The NHS Busy- Part 2

Saturday. 8.20. Continuing my adventures from yesterday. I was at home in the flat and about to have a snack as I usually do for lunch and probably watch television. My mobile rang and it was a paramedic at the doctor's surgery. He said there was something showing up on the ECG which had been done earlier at the surgery and I should go immediately to A and E at Milton Keynes Hospital. At first, I thought he said there was no need to go to A and E. I think it was just me misinterpreting the message and really hoping I wouldn't have to go. There really is nothing worse than a visit to A and E and the endless, totally soul-destroying wait, which can be anything up to four hours from your arrival. Also, the fact that you have to pay when you park and then the possibility of not being able to find a parking space for the car.

So, reluctantly, I drove towards the hospital, leaving Alfie alone in the flat and I'm thinking, 'I just hope I'm not going to have to spend the night in the hospital if they've found something serious in the ECG.' I got to the car park near the A and E entrance and walked a relatively short distance into the A and E reception. I had to give details to a nurse who stood near the entrance doing what I imagine is called 'triage.' A lot of the details from the E.C.G. had presumably been sent from the doctor's surgery and then I had to report to the receptionist and was given a printed-out wristband with my name and N.H.S. number on it together with a bar code. Things are becoming more like a supermarket when you get a bar code and scanned like a  packet of breakfast cereal or pint of milk, but I suppose it makes life easier and more efficient in the end, or, at least, one would like to hope so. Then I was taken through to the waiting area and my worst fears were realized. Just sitting and waiting, having to watch some weird animation on the television that was on the wall. Why couldn't the televisions at least be tuned to daytime programmes? I know 'Homes Under The Hammer' and 'Escape To The Country' aren't exactly entrancing entertainment, but the stuff which was on was dreadful. At least not as bad as the awful television system that they had in the hospital whenever Carol was a patient. I think it was called Hospicom. 

I had to have a further E.C.G. and a blood sample is taken, but this time the nurse was successful thank goodness. I trust it would mean I wouldn't have to give any further blood, as booked at the surgery the previous day. I was assured that I wouldn't have to wait much longer for the results and, hopefully, not the more than six hours I had the last time I had to come to A and E, which is mentioned in an earlier blog post.

A long wait. Until a doctor came to speak to me. He told me that they had done tests on the blood sample and the new E.C.G. There was nothing serious that showed up, so I could go home! So I had spent around three hours stuck in A and E, and I was relieved that I wouldn't have to spend any more time there and best of all, I wouldn't need to stay in overnight. I walked to the car park and then realized I needed to find a ticket machine which would release me at the barrier. The machine I found was difficult to access. No instructions, and the digital screens are difficult to read in bright sunlight. But, at last, I managed to put my card into the slot which then kept hold of it, my fear was that it wouldn't come back out and cause further problems. But it didn't and, surprisingly, I didn't have to pay! So I was able to drive out of the carpark, then found it quite difficult to draw up at the machine so I could lean out of the car window and insert the card into the slot. But all worked as expected and I was able to drive out. What a relief to be able to drive away without any further problems!

Eventful Afternoon . . .

Friday. 8.40 a.m. I was up out of bed and out with Alfie by around 5.45 this morning. It's getting lighter and lighter each morning, so what excuse do I have? No use lounging around in bed. I have never been one to waste the day and can always find something to do with my time. It's particularly sunny and bright at the moment, although, as I write this, the sun has gone in, there's no sign of rain or wind, thankfully.

11.30 a.m. I've been to get my hair cut at Central Barbers. I always feel a good deal better once I've had a haircut. Just looks better and takes around 10 years off my age.

It's still quite mild. Fortunately, no rain, but it's still bright but not overly sunny.

Saturday. 3.25 p.m. Oh, dear! I feel really stupid. Well, you can agree if you want to. I don't care one way or the other. I had decided I would make another batch of chocolate cookies. The last ones weren't a great success. I hadn't taken into account the fact that they would spread out during cooking, so the batch came out of the oven a more or less one big cookie, but I did manage to cut them up into individual cookies. I went to Aldi this morning and bought some additional ingredients and set to with weighing out everything. I have to sort the kitchen out before I start as there is very little space and work surfaces are at a premium. I managed to get to the dough stage and put it into two metal trays. Then I had to sort out the oven, as the temperature isn't easy to set. I have an oven thermometer which I put in the oven, but then I found that the markings on the control knob have worn off, so it's even more of a guess when it comes to setting the oven. After the recommended twenty minutes, I checked the oven, but the cookies weren't cooked. They were still raw dough, so I put them in for a second bake. But I think I set the oven too hot and, as a result, after twenty minutes, there was smoke coming out of the oven when I opened the door. As a result, it set off the fire alarms, which went off throughout Dexter House. So, it was my turn to set the alarm off. I took Alfie out and after a few minutes, I heard a fire engine coming from the sound of its siren. I have to say I felt somewhat responsible for wasting their time. I went in through the main entrance with the lead fireman who came into my flat and told me to open the windows, which I did, and the breeze eventually dispersed the smoke and after a couple more minutes, the alarm stopped. That is the final attempt at cookie-making, as I don't want a repetition of this afternoon's events. Then, ten minutes later, a lady knocked on my door from the emergency alarm company to find out if I was alright, which I was, It just goes to show that we have all the facilities available here in case we have either a fall or a fire. Not really my favourite way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

Sunday. 6.45 a.m. I ordered a DVD from Amazon on Friday. The new Stephen Spielberg version of 'West Side Story.' It was due to be delivered yesterday, before 10 p.m., or, at least, that was what the website told me, which tells you such things, so you can track a parcel's delivery. I had hoped to watch the film yesterday evening, and I waited in expectation of its arrival. I have had a look on the website once more, and it tells me that it has been handed to the recipient. Well, no it hasn't. I have not received it. So, I have to ask where on earth is it? Someone isn't doing their job properly. So I will have to do some investigations and discover its whereabouts. These delivery drivers don't read the address labels properly and if they don't know where the correct address is, it seems they post them through the nearest letterbox, just to get rid of them. Just laziness on their part.

On the way to church this morning, I drove towards Chaffron Way as I usually do and then left at the junction, coming out of Strudwick Drive and then I got to the roundabout which intersects with Saxon Street and discovered that I couldn't double back on myself as I would normally because it was coned off because of a running race/marathon. I was totally unaware of this and had to drive towards the centre of Milton Keynes and then along Childs Way to get to Shenley. Never mind. It was a bit of an inconvenience, but also quite a pleasant journey in the spring sunshine.

5.25 p.m. Alfie and I have been watching Crufts on Channel 4 this afternoon. I attempted to get a photograph of his nibs actually watching, and it wasn't easy (results, although not brilliant, on Facebook.) I had to entice him onto my knee with treats so that he would be in some sort of position to look in the direction of the screen, but he wasn't playing along. Carol and I went around 14 years ago, and we saw the agility being done by small dogs, especially Yorkshire Terriers, and it was this which lead to us getting Alfie. Carol was involved in an accident in her car, the Hyundai Matrix which she had at the time we first met. She was driving along Watling Street and if I remember right, taking Sam to school. I'm not sure if she'd just dropped him off, but she was approaching the roundabout which intersects with Childs Way and there was a queue of a few cars waiting to get onto the roundabout when the car was hit from behind by another car which didn't slow down in time. The force of the collision forced the Hyundai to collide forcibly with the car in front, to such an extent that the Hyundai got caught on the tow ball on the first car. Carol received a whiplash injury, and it took the emergency services quite a while to detatch our car from the car in front. I had just finished with one of my home care calls and had just come out of Beanhill and onto Saxon Street when my mobile rang and I pulled into a lay-by to take the call (bearing in mind that this was during the busy rush hour and the road was nose-to-tail up to the roundabout at Standing Way.) It was Carol saying she had been in a car accident and that she was at the A and E Department of Milton Keynes Hospital. I immediately drove there (not far from where I was at the time of the phone call.) and got there relatively quickly, although the traffic was heavy. This was bought to mind because we had to have a courtesy car when the Hyundai went to be repaired as a result of the collision and we had the use of a Ford Focus which I got to drive and we drove in it to Crufts and then when we went on holiday to Yorkshire. Just shows how something like that incident can spark a memory.

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. 

Pouring Rain

(Sunday) Poor Alfie! We couldn't possibly go our for our routine walk across Eaglestone Park this morning because it had been raining most of the night. I keep looking out of the window to see if there was any chance that it might clear, but, no, it didn't so he'll have to wait until the weather improves, but that doesn't stop him watching me like a hawk. I don't relish the thought of getting a soaking, the last thing I want is to come down with a chill of some sort and anyway, Alfie doesn't like getting soaked. He hates baths in particular. Also, he feels the cold and a soaking wouldn't help him either and he takes ages to dry, so it's just as well we didn't venture out.

I got home from the hospital at around 2 o'clock yesterday afternoon and the effect of the earlier flu-jab could be felt. Some discomfort in my left arm where the injection was done and I felt really off-colour. I slept for an hour or so and later at around 6.  I couldn't lay on my left side because of the  pain in the arm where the injection was done. Most of the night I felt fairly awful, and as a result I didn't go to church. But now, at 10.20 I can say I'm feeling a good deal better. From past experience of flu jabs I have usually felt off-colour for perhaps 48 hours afterwards, so this has gone off a good deal quicker than in the past, thank goodness.

The catheter which Carol had inserted when she was in A and E when she first came into Milton Keynes Hospital has come out. I'm not sure how it came out exactly, but we are waiting to see whether the doctors will want it reinserted. Hopefully she won't need it and this should lead to her recovery from the discomfort and pain. There should be results of various test back from the laboratory tomorrow so, when the doctor does her ward-round tomorrow morning we should hear something. Apparently the antibiotics are doing their job and the infection is under control.

It's been damp and miserable most of the day and by mid-morning the discomfort from the flu jab had passed. Not just that, the feeling of sleepiness and total lack of energy, but as I write this (3.5 pm.) I feel more or less back to normal.

When I left Ward 19 I walked out of the hospital and had to go to pay for parking at the machine which is near the entrance to the Cardiology Department. There was a man already there at the machine having problems paying. He had put his ticket into the slot in the machine but it kept rejecting it. The whole idea is that you put your ticket in and the machine calculates how much you have to pay. He did it again, infact several more times. I then said that if I put mine in it would show whether the machine was working, which I did and I had to pay the £4.50 indicated on th digital read-out. The man went off to the carpark with the ticket and he managed to drive out through the barrier using his ticket, so he got to park free whilst I had to pay. There is definitely something wrong with the parking ticket machine if he went through the normal procedure and his ticket worked the barrier without paying whilst I had to pay, somewhat annoying as you can't have free parking at the weekend because the Macmillan Unit isn't open to have your ticket clipped (that is, if you are a cancer patient or a relative.) Such is life!

Another Visit To A&E

(Wednesday) Carol has been in a great deal of pain for the past couple of days. It's really difficult for me to see her in so much agony and not be able to help get at least some respite from it. She has taken a lot of pain relief medication, but it doesn't seem to work. Some can work for a couple of hours, but then the discomfort comes back. If we wanted to get a doctor's appointment for her it would be a real effort to first get through to Ashfield Medical Centre, probably a 30-minute wait to actually get through and then, having explained to the receptionist why she needed an appointment in the first place, she would be offered a doctor's telephone call some time later, possibly 3-4 hours later, who would access what the problem was and possibly ask her to come into the surgery for an appointment, maybe at the end of the afternoon, say 5 or 6 o'clock. By which time the pain would have become so intense it wouldn't make much difference. So the alternative was to go to Accident and Emergency at Milton Keynes Hospital. Which is what we did.

Carol drove and we managed to find a parking space in the ground-level carpark which is, fortunately, directly opposite the entrance to A and E, and a relatively short walk. Once in I reported to the receptionist while Carol sit down because she was in so much pain. We then sat down in the waiting area and watched some daytime television, something about people who re-let their council homes, illegally. I think Dom Littlewood was presenter. It's called 'Council House Crackdown,' which was followed by 'Homes Under The Hammer.' By which time Carol was called into the triage nurse's room and she described what her problem was. Then we just had to sit back in the waiting room area. There was a sign up near the reception desk which said that waiting-time was between 3 and 4 hours, which didn't exactly make things any better. Also, the chairs in these places aren't the most comfortable. Is this deliberate, I wonder, to deter time-wasters? Probably not. By the time the next programme came on after 'Homes After The Hammer,' (which gives you some idea how long we had to wait.) we were called into another room by a doctor, who took a great many detailed notes and managed to access Carol's notes on the hospital computer system, one of the great advantages of this technology. From there we went into the depths of the A and E department where Carol had cubicle 9 to herself, and was able to lay on the trolley in there. Things began to move a good deal faster and a nurse came and put a canala in her wrist and because they had by now pinpointed the possible centre of the pain as being a urinary infection two nurses came and put in a catheter which can't have been particularly pleasant. Another doctor's interview and then Carol was eventually moved into a new area of the A and E department, called the Observation Unit, which had five beds in it and when we arrived Carol was the only patient but it gradually filled up with other patients. The idea of this unit being that the staff would observe a patient before deciding what action to take regarding their care plan.

The lady doctor who has been helping Carol manage her pain came to see her in the Observation Unit. She seems very keen to help Carol find something which will control the pain she is experiencing and spent a lot of time discussing the matter.  It was decided that Carol would move to another ward sometime that evening, probably Ward 8, but as there presumably wasn't a bed available there would be no chance of her being transferred that evening. I was about to leave for home and would have to telephone in the morning to discover where she was going to finally end up.

(Thursday) I had to ring the hospital to try and discover which ward Carol had eventually gone to
over-night. I rang the reception and attempted to get through to the Observation Unit, but they weren't answering. I gave it 20 minutes and rang again and this time I got an answer. The nurse I spoke to took some while to discover where Carol had been taken, Ward 2. So I drove into the hospital campus and parked in the multi-storey carpark and walked into the main entrance and managed to find the ward without too much trouble.

Carol In Hospital

This is a continuation of the previous post. Read on . . .

Carol hasn't been feeling well for at least a week now. She's been complaining about not being able go walk properly, feeling extremely tired as well as having a severe thirst and having absolutely no appetite. She's been drinking a lot of fruit juice to try to relieve the thirst. Maybe, with the current hot weather, it's not such a bad idea to drink plenty. You don't want to get hydrated when the weather's so warm. Not just her, but also myself. She hasn't been able to eat properly and has only managed to eat breakfast cereal and had some of those protein drinks I managed to buy in Sainsbury's. As mentioned in the last blog post, we tried to get an appointment at Ashfield Medical Centre, first attempting to ring but then I drove there at gone 9 o'clock this morning (Monday) and managed to get a 'ring-back.' We had to wait several hours before the doctor rang and spoke to Carol and gave her a 5 o'clock appointment with one of the practice nurses.

When we went into the nurse's room, the nurse took Carol's temperature and found it was about 38.2. Carol had been told that if it went over 36C she would need to go to the A and E department of the hospital because she was going to be prone to infection, as she was on chemotherapy. At the same time as doing all the usual observations (blood pressure, temperature, heart rate etc etc.) she also did a blood test and it showed that Carol's blood sugar levels were hight. Since Carol has been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes, she has been on medication to keep it under control, but since she has been on chemotherapy since before Christmas, she hasn't been taking the medication, basically because they gave her a glucose solution as a drip before giving her the chemotherapy as the glucose acts on the chemotherapy. The glucose would therefore give a high blood test result so she stopped taking the diabetes medication.

The nurse rang the hospital. I'm not sure which ward or department. She described the symptoms that Carol had and immediately she was told that Carol needed to go immediately to Ward 1, the Acute ward at Milton Keynes University Hospital. She printed off the information gathered from the tests at the surgery and we immediately drove to the hospital, deciding it was best to go through the Accident and Emergency department. Fortunately the carpark had plenty of spaces and I was able to park virtually directly opposite the A and E entrance. On arriving in A and E we were directed straight through to Ward 1 by the receptionist and checked in at the ward's nurse's station. We soon went into a side room off the day-room and a nurse came and took down notes and did more obs and took blood for testing before a doctor came to talk to Carol. It took some time for a bed to become ready on the ward and Carol and I went through to the ward. It seems that most wards in modern hospitals are arranged in the same way, smaller eight or six bed 'bays' with beds facing one another, with their own chairs and cabinets in for the patients to put their belongings, also, with curtains that can be drawn around the bed so that they can be more private when the doctors and consultants do their rounds. Unfortunately Carol didn't have a cupboard or cabinet for her to use, although one of the nurses said that if one became vacant she could have it.

After a while a doctor came to see Carol and looked at some notes, listened to her heart and so on and it was decided that the problem she had, the fact that she was thirsty and generally not well was possibly down to her not taking her diabetic medication. They needed to keep her hydrated and to give her insulin to stabilise the diabetes. This would take a couple of days, as no doubt they would need to keep her in hospital for observation to see how things developed. They also needed to make sure there was no infection as a result of the chemotherapy, so there are quite a few things that need sorting out before she can be discharged.

I had to return home to collect some things for Carol. First I had to make sure I knew exactly where the ward was, which may sound crazy, but if you know Milton Keynes Hospital, you will have some idea how complicated the layout is and finding your way around is quite difficult. Once you realise that each department is within a colour coded area it is actually quite straightforward. I had to walk all the way round the site and back to the carpark and fortunately found that the barrier was raised so I didn't have to bother with payment. I soon got home and managed to find the items Carol needed as well as feeding Alfie, who must have wondered what was going on, why we had gone out and left him alone in the kitchen. Having gathered the items together in a holdall, I drove back to the hospital and no sooner had I got there and was again with Carol than the doctor came in to speak to Carol.

By this time it was near enough 9 o'clock so I went home, expecting to return at around 8-8.30 with the hope that we will get further answers when results are back from the blood test so they can get the diabetic problems resolved.

Another Doctor's Appointment

Carol needed to have a doctor's appointment made this morning (Monday). Never always just a straightforward process, as you will probably realise if you read my blog posts regularly. It's never just a matter of ringing and getting an immediate answer and merely turning up. I get the impression that they are attempting to weed out the time-wasters, those who think it's fine to waste N.H.S. resources by making appointments for things like a cough or a cold, a broken finger-nail or a minor injury. I think people think of the N.H.S. as a first resort for every ailment they may have. My mother, who had been a nurse before she married, would have had a range of medications in her armoury of cures about the house when we were children, from a good stock of plasters, bandages, aspirins, and other first aid equipment. I don't ever remember going to the doctor for minor injuries. I don't ever remember going to Casualty or A and E (Accident and Emergency) as a child. She could always deal with these matters herself. Why can't people today take more care of themselves and not expect everything to be dealt with by the N.H.S.? Common sense seems to have been left behind. When the N.H.S. is stretched to the limit, not just financially, but by staff shortages, it would be better if most people learnt to be self-reliant. Just stock up on basic things in a first aid cabinet, and how to deal with minor injuries and ailments. Leave the doctor's surgery as a last resort, even going to a Walk-In Centre of A and E department unless it's a real emergency or you can't deal with it yourself.

I began ringing the surgery at Ashfield Medical Centre yesterday morning at around 8.30 a.m. I was surprised how quickly I managed to get through and there wasn't that endless wait with that annoying music which you have to listen too. Carol managed to explain why she needed to see a doctor. She had been sent a letter from Ashfield asking her to make an appointment with her registered doctor, but apparently he was on leave so she had to have an appointment with another doctor. The appointment was at 9.50.

I've just seen a piece on BBC Breakfast about how many doctor's appointments are wasted by people who make an appointment and don't cancel them when they don't turn up.  Usually young affluent men according to research. WHY? Is it possible to merely ring the surgery and cancel your appointment if you don't need it? Somewhere in the region of £160 million is wasted when this happens. So, here's one area which needs sorting out as it's a scandal that people don't turn up for an appointment they've made. Just think what could be done with that amount of cash if it was saved.

We drove to the surgery, giving ourselves plenty of time to not only get there but to find a parking space. The surgery was surprisingly deserted when we arrived in the waiting area. One or two people and one poor man with a really awful cough. I can attest to a horrible cough myself which I'm still dealing with.

Carol was called in to the doctor's surgery. Well, you don't get 'called in', as your name appears on a digital screen. You have to sign in using the compute system when you arrive (which seems to have been up-graded since my last visit.) One of the lady doctors, one we haven't seen before (I always go in with Carol when she has an appointment.) and Carol had to go through all the medications she is on since leaving hospital (quite an extensive list.) Some meds have had their dosage increased and a new one which is a sleeping tablet. Hopefully these changes will help deal with the pain Carol is experiencing and should help her have a decent night's sleep. I have to say that this doctor was very sympathetic and took her time to deal with Carols' concerns and we weren't rushed through as we might have had with some of the other doctors in this surgery. We had to order some of her repeat medications and the doctor printed out several prescriptions which we took to Cox and Robinson's pharmacy which is a couple of doors along from Ashfield.

We had to wait what seemed an excessively long time to get the medications made up from the prescriptions. The staff seemed to be on a go-slow for whatever reason and it can't have been because they were busy as there weren't that many other people waiting. But never mind. Actually would have been better if we'd gone to Lloyd's pharmacy in Sainsbury's but, as Cox and Robinson's is so close it seemed the obvious place to go to get the prescriptions made up. Sitting and waiting and being bored silly in the process. Moan over.

Carol was pleased to be out with me in the car, away from the house. We then drove to Marks and Spencer near the football stadium. Considering it was so close to Christmas, it was quiet and we managed to park close to M and S. We did some food shopping and had a browse and by the time we'd finished it was time to return to the car and go home.

More N.H.S. Waiting Rooms-1

Carol still continues to have pain problems. No amount of medication seem to relive this awful situation. She's been on some really powerful medication. We had to ring Ashfield Medical Centre yesterday to get a repeat prescription of Tramadol. You have to go through a really tortuous process to get anywhere near a doctor for an appointment as I've explained in earlier blog posts. A triage system, meaning the receptionist who answers the phone asks you what your problem is and then assigns a doctor to ring you so that he/she can decide whether you need a face-to-face appointment. I think it's to weed out time-wasters (those who have minor ailments: a sore throat doesn't need an appointment: just go to the nearest pharmacist and get an over-the-counter medication, cough syrup or other product. It obviously doesn't need a doctor's appointment and certainly doesn't need a prescription for antibiotics, as an example.) Generally it takes a couple of hours before you get a ring-back and you see a doctor that day. We did eventually get through and she was able to get the doctor to agree on a prescription for Tramadol. We were told that the prescription would be ready for collection 'after 2 p.m.' All very well and I went off to pick this up, hoping that I could then go to the pharmacy which is near the surgery to get it made up and then return home. When I got to the surgery I asked the receptionist for it and she looked for it on the computer system and told me 'it's gone to Sainsbury's (sent electronically). I was somewhat annoyed, as it then meant that I would have to drive to the store in Witan Gate to collect it. (Actually the pharmacy is now run by Lloyd's and not Sainsbury's but is within their store. Don't ask me why it changed. It seemed fine as run by Sainsbury's.) On arrival I asked if the prescription had arrived and I was told it hadn't. It was then that I couldn't for the life of me remember what the drug it was that he prescriptions was for. I knew it was a fairly powerful drug for dealing with pain, but I simply could not remember the name of it. I suggested the pharmacy ring Ashfield M.C. and get them to tell them the name, but they wouldn't without the name of drug the prescription was for. My only choice was to return home and ask Carol what the drug was. When I got home she told me it was Tramadol and I rang Sainsbury's back and when I told them I was informed that, as it was a controlled drug, the surgery couldn't send the prescription electronically. This made sense, because, having been a carer and administration of medication to the client base I worked with was part of my job, I was totally aware that controlled drugs had to be stored carefully, in a locked cupboard, but also had to be carefully signed for, usually by two members of staff, so it was no surprise that they would not send the prescription electronically. By now it was clear that we weren't going to get to the bottom of this situation unless we went to Ashfield Medical Centre and find out what on earth was going on regarding the prescription. The girl of reception said that, having looked at their computer, they had sent the prescription to Sainsbury's. It turned out to be for two other medication that Carol has, but nothing of the Tramadol could be found. Then we said, no doubt it was because it was a controlled drug. After a great deal of scouring around the various files and other places, it turned out that the doctor who was supposed to deal with signing the printed prescriptions hadn't done so and after a further search, the tramadol prescription had somehow slipped through the net. The receptionist said she would go and speak to the doctor, but at the time of speaking she was with a patient. We had to sit and wait in the waiting room whilst all this was going on.

How is it all N.H.S. waiting rooms have such un comfortable seating in them? We've had to endure several of them over the past couple of months, in A and E, at the Urgent Care Centre as well as another out-patient department we went to last week that Carol had to attend following her time in hospital (to see a consultant). They seem to make these facilities as unappealing as possible, the seating in particular as uncomfortable as they can. If you're in A and E as long as we have and you feel like lying down, they've made the long stretch of seats which you'd feel like lying on, have metal bits that make it virtually impossible to lie on as they really cut into your back. I think they deliberately put uncomfortable seating into N.H.S. facilities in a vain attempt to put people off using them. At any rate, the seats I've had to sit on in the last few weeks at least are so designed to make you only want to experience them for at least 20 minutes and certainly no longer. How difficult can it be to have them with at least padded seats? Those plastic chairs in hospital wards don't allow for long sitting as they have a slippery surface that makes you slide off and are extremely uncomfortable. I realise that the N.H.S. is keen to have every surface cleaned in an attempt to combat cross-infection and reduce the risk of N.R.S.A. (Methicillin-Resistant Staphylococcus aureus)  spreading, so plastic surfaces would be easier to keep clean, but do these chairs have to be so uncomfortable

The receptionist eventually returned with the printed, and signed, prescription form, so we could then go to Cox and Robinson a few yards along from the surgery, to get the thing made up and could at last go home.

Carol Discharged From Hospital

Carol has been in hospital since Tuesday. As I have mentioned on these blog posts. I have been visiting her each day and walking to the hospital from home, which isn't actually far, around a 10-minute walk along the Redway and then into the hospital campus. I've mentioned the difficulty of navigating the site, with the long and complex system of corridors and signs within the site.

On Thursday we had hoped that one or other of the doctors who had been looking after her on the ward she eventually transferred to would be able to give us some idea of what their investigations had found, having done some scans and from observations since she arrived on Ward 19, having been mored from the Accute Ward which she had been on after her time in Accident and Emergency which we had gone to early on Tuesday morning.

I'm not going to explain here what the problem has been causing Carol so much pain as it would not be right to do so on here. Just let me say that it has been very difficult to see her in so much discomfort, regardless of the medication she has had. A lot of paracetamol, co-codemol and ibuprofen which doesn't seem to have helped in the long-run.

On Friday morning I was eating my lunch. Cheese and Rivita crackers. I got a text come in from Carol. I had taken her mobile so she could at least text me if I wasn't at the hospital. She told me in the text that the doctors were about to do their rounds. I couldn't eat fast enough, and it would take me at least 10 minutes to walk to the hospital. The weather had done what it always does, it changed dramatically. I had done a load of washing very early in the morning and it was out on the line by around 6.30. Nothing like being early when it takes me. But by the time I was due to begin the walk to the hospital, it began to cloud over. Those black clouds brewing up to deliver a downpour. I was in two minds to bring in the two lines of washing but having gone out to check how dry it was I decided against it. I also wore my big blue jacket which has a hood and plenty of pockets in it to carry my mobile and wallet as I believed that Carol was likely to need cash or perhaps we would be coming home together and would need cash for something or other at the hospital. Something out of a vending machine perhaps.

On arrival on the ward the nurses were making her bed.   No doctors in sight, unfortunately.

They bought round the lunches to the patients. Not exactly over-whelming. Fish and chips, but not exactly likely to achieve a few stars from Egon Ronay or any other restaurant reviewer.

By 2 o'clock Carol had a doctor's visit and it was decided that she could at last be discharged, thank goodness. She would have to return for further investigations and we'd have to wait for a letter to give her a date and time for an appointment. She already had a consultant's appointment for this week, 23rd August. We just had to wait for the paperwork to be done and the pharmacy to make up her medications for us to take with us.

By now it was threatening rain. A few drips seen outside. I had to walk home to get the car. I got home in time to avoid the rain, which started and it was torrential. I drove back to the hospital and parked in the ground-level carpark which we'd used when we'd come in to A and E on Tuesday morning. There was a flat roof just outside the window near Carol's bed on the ward. As it had been raining there was quite a large amount of water in a large pool on this flat room. The rain fell and filled this pool considerably. A couple of rather stupid looking pigeons came and paddled in it. It needed a few water lilies, ducks and perhaps some carp and it would have been complete.

As time was ticking by and it was taking longer to get the paperwork sorted so Carol could be discharged, I walked home to fetch the car and some clothes for Carol.

It took a good forty-five minutes to walk back to the house, collect some clothes for Carol in a carrier bag and drive back to the hospital. By now the rain was starting to fall heavily and I was beginning to feel a certain deja vu, having walked the same bit of path several times during the last couple of hours.

We eventually left to walk to the car, with all the things Carol had come in to the ward with. We went to pay for the carpark by putting the ticket I had collected when I'd parked earlier but for some reason the coins we put in wouldn't work. Neither did my debit card which we inserted. It just got rejected. Without paying by inserting your card into the machine and paying the required amount there was no way we would be able to leave through the exit barrier, but when we got to the exit barrier a little bit later we found it was up, so we assumed that there was some technical problem with the ticket machine or the barrier so we were able to leave without having to pay, which was actually a relief.

Hospital of Confusion

Finding your way around Milton Keynes Hospital is something of a nightmare. For a start, they are in the middle of up-grading the place, with the main entrance moved from opposite the main, ground-level carpark. It would appear that THAT entrance goes into Accident and Emergency. When we arrived on Tuesday morning, very early, it was closed off with a sign up telling us to go through another entrance (I think we landed up in A and E through the original door, but I can't remember now.) They've now put the main entrance to the side of the hospital, opposite the multi-storey carpark. A lot of new building going on near the road that goes to the Urgent Care centre (formerly known as the Walk-In Centre.) I think it's going to be a medical teaching centre, as Milton Keynes is a teaching hospital. A lot of the nurses who were in the ward Carol is on have uniforms with 'University of Bedfordshire' or 'Buckingham' and other universities embroidered on them. When we were in A and E there were a couple of A Level students 'shadowing' some of the doctors. I thought they were nurses training, but apparently not.

My main headache at the hospital is finding my way around. It's the craziest layout imaginable. It's in a series of what look like separate buildings, linked by extremely long corridors. You have to make sure you know where you're going and find the colour code for the area that department is in. Carol is currently in Ward 19 and its's in the 'Blue' sector. It's not necessarily finding the ward that causes problems (particularly as the corridors all look identical although they have some really good artworks hung along some of them, which I enjoy looking at, so these are a sort of guide to remember where I am at any particular time.)  but finding my way out, back to ground-level and back to the carpark or the Redway as I walk in along this from Eaglestone. Fortunately, if you get lost, there's always someone to ask and the staff are helpful.

Why, I wonder, did they not just build a series of blocks, instead of having two-storey buildings spread over a large area? It seems such a waste of space somehow. Surely, a six or even eight storey block is going to be more economical as regards space, with less waste with those dreadful long corridors. And then there seems to be so much wasted space BETWEEN the various buildings. Although, saying that, in some places this space is utilised as gardens and quite pleasant courtyards for staff and patients to enjoy.

Early Morning Visit To A and E

Carol came home from work a few days ago complaining that she had a problem with one of her eyes. She said she had something in it which irritated. She wasn't sure what it could be. I didn't think any more about it because often if you get something in your eye, such as grit, a small fly or a hair, it can generally work it's way out and that's the end of it. But this appeared to get worse instead of better. She wondered whether she had got some chemical she uses in the labs at Milton Keynes Academy as a science teacher into her eye accidentally, by rubbing her eye, having picked it up off something or other. Which would seem easy to do if a surface, for example, hadn't been wiped clean properly by another teacher using the same lab.  

She didn't make much comment about this until Tuesday evening. We went to bed, then early next morning, around 3.45 or around that time, she said it was getting much worse. So, after much consideration, we thought it might be a good idea to go to A and E (Accident and Emergency) at Milton Keynes Hospital, which is only a relatively short walk away behind our house in Eaglestone. There's really no point in using the car because you have to pay anyway and we weren't sure how long we were going to have to wait until she would be seen by either a doctor or a nurse. So we walked, leaving the house at around 4.15 a.m. The hospital campus was more or less deserted and, on arriving at the A and E department, there were only a couple of other people waiting. She reported her issue at the reception and then sat down. She was seen by the triage nurse within half an hour, but then another nurse came out and pinned a hand-written notice on the front of the reception desk saying that waiting times were between 4 and 5 hours!

So we sat in the waiting area. There was a television on with  the BBC News Channel. Time ticked by. People came and went. Several with young children. They seemed to be fast-tracked through the system. Taken through to a special children's A and E department. Some people seemed to get taken through to the nurse's area before us. They most likely had priority, as I realize that the more serious an injury is, the quicker you will be seen and dealt with, such as when I have gone to A and E with my heart condition, or even when I had my original heart attack 10 years ago (although I was living in Bedford at the time and went to Bedford Hospital.) A fairly minor eye injury, such as Carol's, would be considered minor which is why she wasn't seen immediately. At around 9 a.m. she was called through to the main area beyond the double doors (which you couldn't enter unless you used a swipe card, which most members of N.H.S. staff had. She was gone about 20 minutes and carrying a small tube of ointment which had been applied to her eye and made it go bright yellow. We walked home and immediately fell into bed and fell asleep. I must say, as we sat in the A and E department waiting area, I was gradually falling asleep. We did manage to get a bottle of orange juice and two chocolate bars out of the vending machines in the department. Fortunately, we had my wallet with us which I had managed to take when we left the house and these vending machines have contactless card payment which meant we could have the chocolate and drink which we wouldn't have been able to have if it was only able to take coins to pay.

Later in the morning we got a call from the hospital to say that she had got an appointment the following day (today, Thursday.) at the eye clinic at 2.30.

Later. Thursday.

Carol's appointment was at 2.30 as I mentioned in the above. We walked to the hospital. I went on-line and found out where exactly the eye clinic was. It's within the outpatient's department, which, on thinking about it, is fairly obvious. I wanted to avoid the situation that we might have found ourselves in, wandering the seemingly never ending corridors in Milton Keynes hospital, rather like the Flying Dutchman in the Wagner opera. Although he wasn't lost in a hospital, but on the hight sea. Although the setting of an N.H.S. hospital might he rather interesting. You can walk in one entrance and then spend the rest of the day walking from one end to the other and never finding the department you want. We got there with plenty of time to spare. Full of people waiting. A definite captive audience. You could sell sandwiches, coffee and tea, newspapers, anything (but I bet you'd have to go through no end of paperwork and go through endless hoops, through regulations, health and safety, patient protection procedures etc, before being able to sell anything, so don't even bother to take it further. No doubt there's a tendering process, red tape and no end of  beurocratic nonsense before you could set up quite a lucrative business.) People of all ages, waiting for their appointments, all attempting like crazy to avoid eye contact with one another. Looking thoroughly bored. Along one side of the room, an array of booths, or kiosks, where you would go for your appointment. Each has a number, in extremely large sized lettering, from 1 through 6 or thereabouts. I realize that the patients had sight problems, but why do the signs have to be so large and obvious? It seemed a bit over the top. I have an image of someone of a 'certain age' who wears glasses, with those extremely thick lenses, like the bottom of bottles, which make their eyes look huge (rather like the bushbaby in the brilliant Ardman Animation mini film "Creature Comfort", which sits on a branch and at the end takes the glasses off and their eyes are tiny.) This person turns up for their appointment and then has great difficulty finding the right room their appointment is in and has to search by touch virtually alone, even though the sign for the room they have to go to has a sign with extremely tiny signage. Just an idea.

We sat at one side of the waiting area, right near the television that was on the wall. The gameshow "Decimate" comes on, a daytime show which I might or might not have seen. It has Shane Ritchie as compere. He plays Alfie Moon in 'EastEnders.' Our Yorkshire Terrier is named after him. Anyway, we had to sit quite close to the screen, but it meant we would have our backs to the rest of the room and wouldn't see anyone who came out to call when Carol's appointment came up. After around 10 minutes it was time for Carol's appointment. She went into the room and was gone for around 20 minutes or so. A young man with his mother came in. They sat directly under the television screen. He looked bored silly as if he didn't want to be there. I wasn't actually sure whether they were mother and son. She seemed to look too old to be his mother. She might have been his grandmother. They didn't speak or make any indication that they were actually together. Perhaps he wasn't old enough to get to the hospital appointment on his own. He probably couldn't drive a car or get a bus on his own (unlikely, thinking about it now.) Then she offered him an extra strong mint, which he accepted. He just stared off into space, but they never spoke to one another. Or perhaps she was going for the appointment. I wasn't sure. Anyway, they are now filed under 'characters' which I can use in my writing. Even just sitting in the hospital I was beginning to get ideas for writing stories. A definite fertile ground for inspiration.

Then Carol came out of the room where she'd had her appointment. She wanted me to go back in with her as the nurse who had been dealing with her eye injury had to go off to find a doctor to give a second opinion about her eye. It was regarding the eye problem she had had several years ago when she had gone to have an eye test at Asda and we were sent to Stoke Mandeville Hospital because the optician had found something which needed attention. Surprisingly, she has never had a follow-up appointment in all the intervening years. The lady was gone five minutes or so but then came back with a doctor who looked at Carol's eyes through a sort of microscope machine and gave the all clear on that problem. Regarding the recent eye injury, it appeared that whatever it was that had got into her eye had come out. It might have been a bit of grit or chemical from working at the Academy. The surrounding area around the eye had got very puffy and red and this, apparently, was due to the fact that she was getting an allergic reaction to the ointment she was given at the A and E department the previous day and was told to stop using it immediately. Also, she was given a prescription for some sort of drops which would help prevent dry eyes as apparently she wasn't producing the natural lubricant her eyes should produce to stop her eye healing properly. So, we walked out of the department and home and then drove to Sainsbury's to get the prescription made up. Unfortunately, on enquiring at the pharmacy, they didn't have it in stock but had to put in an order which should be ready for collection tomorrow after 12 noon.