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.

A Really Difficult Post

This is going to be a very difficult blog post to write. In fact I've avoided writing it as you willl discover why you will probably see why. As I've mentioned in the past few weeks on this blog, Carol has been unwell. We haven't had a particularly good summer. She was off work from the Academy for the final two weeks of the summer term and then, over August and well into September we've had quite a few visits to Accident and Emergency as well as appointments at Ashfield Medical Centre with doctors as well as the practice nurse. This is due to a great deal of pain she has been experiencing. The first doctors appointment she had she was thought to have a urinary infection and was put on antibiotics. But that did not appear to make any difference. She had real problems sleeping at night with the intense pain. On at least two occasions we went to the Urgent Care Centre at Milton Keynes Hospital and a further couple of times to Accident and Emergency. The last time we went there she was admitted to hospital and spent four days there, eventually moving to Ward 19. Still no cause found for the continuing pain, however she was given a wide variety of different pain relief medication, including tramadol. Eventually she had a further appointment with the practice nurse who did a further examination and then got her referred to the hospital to have an endoscopy appointment. This was on a Sunday (mentioned in an earlier post.) We were to get the results of this investigation the next Tuesday. It was more than a shock when the doctor who gave us the results that the cause of the pain was caused by a lesion. Which meant it was likely to be cancerous. You can imagine our shock. I have to say I almost fell on the floor when we were told. Not something you want to hear at any time, ever, as you can appreciate. There needed to be further investigations, including another endoscopy which uses a camera and is able to take possibly biopsy so that further tests could me done. This happened last Monday, and, unfortunately, they have now confirmed that it is cancerous. We now have to wait for the results from the biopsy and today, Thursday, Carol had a C.T. scan to check that there is no further cancer in any other organ of her body. A huge and very difficult thing to take in from both of us as well as our families. Unfortunately Carol is still continuing to experience great pain, particularly at night, making it very difficult to sleep. Meanwhile she has been signed off work from Milton Keynes Academy. I am going to leave off writing this and will make mention of things as they develop in future posts.

The C.T. scan went incredibly well. The appointment was at 9.30 and we got to the hospital far too early, as we have a habit of doing with most things. Not such a bad thing in itself, I suppose, particularly if you have to contend with traffic as well as parking. We walked to the unit, which we'd been to a couple of weeks previously. As we got there too early the receptionist rang through to find out if Carol could be seen early and apparently there was a gap in the schedule, so there was none of the waiting as we experienced at the endoscopy department a few days earlier. It was all over very quickly and we were soon walking back to the car and coming home, although we did go into the shop at the entrance as Carol said she had a really nasty taste in her mouth, no doubt caused by the dye she had injected into her blood stream to aid the scan and needed a drink of something to get rid of the taste. Taking a great deal of medications, that is one of the side effects that such meds can cause. We also bought a couple of pastries and went 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.

730th blog post: Ashfield Surgery Appointment and Over-night stay at Milton Keynes Hospital

Over the course of the past six weeks or so I have been experiencing a rather nasty pain in my chest, rather like an angina attack, bought on by some form of exertion, such as walking. It usually goes off with rest. This happened a few weeks ago when we went to Stowe Landscape Garden and started up as we walked back to the car. I had to stop and sit and it gradually went off. It also happened again last Friday after we'd been to the restaurant for a meal with Carol's work colleagues and we were walking back to the car. It's almost like a sort of 'spike' of pain, as I say, similar to an angina attack. I have used my G.T.N. spray which is supposed to relieve an angina attack.The G.T.N. doesn't seem to make much difference to reducing the discomfort.  I was prescribed insoborbide mononitrate last time I was admitted to Milton Keynes Hospital when I had an angina attack which didn't subside after a particular bad attack. It has a similar effect to G.T.N. spray as it makes your blood vessels open up to allow a better flow of blood and so reduce pain. I had got to the point where I was really suffering with this discomfort but was reluctant to go to the doctor because we have been going there quite a lot recently, and in particular, after the last few weeks with Carol's medical problems. I was prompted to get advice for this situation when I went to Sainsbury's pharmacy to collect a repeat prescription and the pharmacist did a review of my medication (as they do every six months or so.) I managed to mention this chest pain and he said that perhaps it was caused by one of my current medications, such as bisoprolol, which helps maintain a slower heart rhythm and possibly the dosage I'm on needs reducing or increasing and that, as a result, I should make a doctor's appointment and discuss this chest pain with my doctor and get him to either increase or reduce the bisoprolol dosage I'm on. So, yesterday morning I decided to ring the surgery to get an appointment with the doctor (or 'a doctor' as there are several doctors at the Ashfield Medical Centre.) As mentioned in an earlier post on here, they have changed the appointments procedure and you now have to ring and go through a sort of 'triage' system so that they can decide which medical problem are more urgent than others and then get  a doctor to telephone back to discuss the problem and then make an appointment for later in the day. I eventually go through at around 10 o'clock. Then a doctor rang me around 45 minutes later and I was able to discuss the chest pain to him and as a result was given an appointment at the surgery at 4.30 yesterday afternoon.

When I got to the surgery the first thing I realised as soon as I got through the door was that the computerised check-in system wasn't working. You're supposed to put the initial of your surname in the program then the month and day of your birthday and it's supposed to bring up yout appointment-time and the doctor your're booked with. But because this wasn't working (it's a common fault that this sytem crashes whenever I need to go to the surgery and sign in with the system.) so I had to queue up and check in with one of the receptionists. It transpired that I was seeing one of the practise nurses and not a doctor. Having waited for a further ten to fifteen minutes I was called in by the nurse (because the computer system wasn 't working, it meant that the digital display which informs patients when their appointment is ready so you go through to the relevant room.) and then had to explain what I have already described above. I had to have an E.C.G. which is something I've had several times before and when she had the print-out from this it was taken to a doctor elsewhere in the surgery. I had to sit and wait a further ten minutes and she returned to tell me that I would need to go to the hospital.  Which was not exactly what I wanted to hear as I had expected this to be an 'in-out' appointment so I could go home immediately afterwards. She then said that they would need to call for an ambulance to take me. Which seemed amazing since the hospital is barely a five-minute drive away from the surgery. So the ambulance came (within around ten minutes.) and I had to then describe the symptoms of the pain in my chest  to the paramedics and they took notes and took me out to the ambulance and did a further E.C.G. scan and my blood pressure.) We eventually moved off and got to Accident and E I mergency, being taken inside sitting in a wheelchair (which is strange for me, having been a carer, where I often pushed other people around in a wheelchair.) Once at A and E I had to go through the process of describing my symptons yet again. By this time I had called Carol on the phone to let her know where I was and to let her know what was going on. Meanwhile she had arrived in A and E. I was taken to a cubicle and settled in. We were then told that I was likely to be there for around 2 hours. When they insisted that I must wear a hospital gown did I realise that all this was going to take a good deal longer than anticipated. I had to go through the rather unpleasant ordeal of them taking a blood sample. Unpleasant, because, as you know, if you've read any of my previous blog posts, taking a sample of blood has caused stress as well as problems. As it turned out it did cause some problems as the nurse couldn't find a vein that would yield  sufficient for them to sample and consequently it took quite a long time, but eventually it was successful. That done, we had to wait, and wait and wait. It wasn't excessively busy in A and E, so I don't know why they couldn't deal with me quicker. I think they soon realised that my case wasn't particular urgent although, anyone who has a history of heart problems or had a heart attack gets priority which would be one reason why I was taken to A and E so quickly. They then put other patients at the front of the queue and my case was much further down the list which was why I had to wait around 4 hours before anything could be done as regarding what had caused my chest pain. Carol decided that she would need to go home as it was getting late and I would be staying at the hospital over-night. I then was taken to have a chest X-Ray and by the time that was done the doctors could have a look a my notes as well as the X-Ray and blood test results to give a clearer picture of what was going on.

Sometime later, getting on for around 10 o'clock, one of the doctors came to tell me that, having looked at past E.C.G. records and other material they had from earlier hospital visits that there was no evidence to show that what had caused the pain I had been experiencing had anything to do with my heart and that I could go home. But by that time I was really tired and felt that I wouldn't be able to drive let alone walk, even though 'home' was so close. So I rang Carol to say I would be home in the morning. Earlier the doctor had said that whatever it was that had caused the problem had been because things 'had been stable for a long time, but now they had become unstable' but at that time they could not see what it could have been that had caused the pain.' But by now they had decided that the problem wasn't heart-related, which was a relief to me. So, I was moved into a sort of holding ward, away from A and E, as they have to free up beds for incoming patients. Then, having got to sleep and was well settled in for the night, I was woken at around 3 a.m. to be told I was being moved once again, to yet another ward. I was pushed there by a porter and nurse, through the corridors of the hospital, into a ward that reminded me strongly of the C.C.U. at Bedford Hospital (Coronary Care Unit) because it was almost exactly the same sort of configuration of beds with curtains around them and facing one another (I think the Bedford C.C.U. has eight or perhaps six beds, in two blocks, one for men and one for women.) I was once again checked in, with 'obs' (observations) blood pressure, temperature and another E.C.G. I suppose they have to adhere to certain procedures, but by this time it was becoming somewhat annoying. How many times did I repeat the symptoms? It seemed somewhat obsessive. Could they not have kept the various sets of notes and referred to them? Build up a set of notes from each successive examination? It does seem that the N.H.S. is somewhat over-staffed with people pushing bits of paper and in some cases, over-sensitive to such things as targets and statistics, which would be what most of this is about.  I spent a somewhat restless night attempting to sleep, as it was so noisy. Staff walking about, doing such things as 'obs' of other patients and someone talking in the next ward very loud and squeaking trolleys and electronic gadgetry making strange beeps and burps at irregular intervals. But I think I did manage to sleep for two or three hours. At 5.45 my mobile alarm went off, as it's set to that time because we always get up at that time every day, starting off the day with me making us both tea. Incidentally, I didn't get a cup of tea early as I would have expected when I had had to stay in hospital, although we did have tea and a sandwich given us as we waited in A and E, nor did they ask me what medication I was on which was rather a surprise. At 6.30 Carol phoned and said she would come and pick me up later and the doctor re-appeared to reiterate what he had said the previous evening about the pain being unrelated to my heart but at that time they could put a finger on exactly what had caused it. So, I was free to go home. A further lot of 'obs' were done and I got dressed and walked out of the ward. I went to the nurses station to tell them that I was leaving expecting there to be some paperwork to sign or allow me to be discharged. But the staff didn't seem that interested so I walked out. I didn't get so much as a cup of tea when I was on that final ward. I hadn't eaten anything since having the sandwich when we were in A and E. Not so much as a packet of crisps. I'm somewhat surprised. It seems I was totally ignored. They kept an eye on my blood pressure, temperature and so on, but not one offer of something more substantial to eat. When I was a carer I could have been done for neglect if I didn't allow one of my clients a drink or something to eat if they were unable to provide something for themselves. So I'm shocked to think I got nothing except a rather lack-lustre sandwich and a mug of tea. But I got outside and couldn't work out exactly where I was, and certainly not near the front entrance of the hospital as I had expected of even near when I had entered A and E when the parmedics had brought me in in the ambulance. I had a call on my mobile and Carol came and collected me from near where we had gone the other evening when we'd visited the former Walk-In Centre. So, we drove home, to be met by our two dogs, Poppy and Alfie, who were pleased to see me as they were totally confused by having their routine upset when I had gone out and left them alone in the house the previous afternoon.

Attempting to Get Doctor's Appointment

I have been attempting to get a doctor's appointment for Carol this morning. Our surgery has a new system which means you don't need to queue up outside before 8 a.m. before the surgery opens. You have to telephone and they use a triage system whereby you have to tell the receptionist what your symptoms are and they decide what sort of priority it requires and then the doctor will telephone you during the day and after a discussion will decide whether you need to have a face-to-face appointment. All very well and good, as it will weed out the time wasters, those with minor ailments, sore throats, cut fingers and so on (which are so minor the patients with these sort of ailments should go to a chemists and speak to the pharmacist and stop wasting the doctor's time so that more serious ailments can be dealt with or at least be seen by a nurse at the surgery. There us a walk-in centre at Milton Keynes Hospital which is only a short distance from Ashfield Medical Centre or else if your needs are more serious you should go to Accident and Emergency.) 

I started ringing the surgery just after 8 a.m. and all I got was a sort of engaged tone, similar to what you get if you were to keep the phone 'off the hook.' It took half a dozen more attempts and by 9.30, by which time I had almost given up all hope of getting through, I managed to get through to a recorded message which lead to a menu with several options and from that I got to a further selection of options and a horrible repeating message and music (not as bad as some orgnisations, but bad enough when it keeps on playing over and over.) I eventually got to speak to a human and after some explination as to why Carol needed an appointment or at least a doctor to speak to via telephone, the woman told me that she would need to phone when he got home from work. So, all a waste of time and effort to be told that and I hope Carol can get through when she done ring. Who dreams up this sort of sytem in the first place? Do they have any idea how stressful it is when you can't get through? It's not easy if you're working and you need an appointment and particularly if you're too busy, as Carol is, to ring the surgery. Also, it seems the Academy doesn't like it if you go for an appointment during the day which means you have to arrange to go for an appointment outside work hours, which isn't easy. 

I've been reading back some of the material I wrote months ago. I haven't looked at it for a while and I'm really surprised by how good it is. Or at least, that's what I think of it. I'm attempting to find a way to develop this particular storyline further and have written a couple more pages. It needs editing, infact, quite heavily. But at least it's no worse than it could have been which is great. 

I'm not getting involved in Black Friday, or whatever it's called. I went to Tesco at Kingston yesterday morning and they had signs up all over the store telling you that the store would be open from midnight tonight for customers. It's just an attempt to get as many customers as possible buying madly before 25th December. When you see how totally mad some people can get when these sales are on it's something that I'm keen to avoid at all costs. It does annoy me that companys put their prices up so people buy stuff just for one day's worth of presents and then a few days later those same companys have to start their January sales and the self-same items are reduced considerbly. You might just as well wait and buy your presents then and get th discounts.

Blood Test Can Improve Heart Attack Diagnosis

B.B.C. Breakfast the other morning ran an item about a new blood test which can detect whether a patient with chest pain has had a heart attack. I publish below the following gleaned from several websites:

According to the B.H.F. (British Heart Foundation), a clinical trial which they have funded at the University of Edinburgh has shown that using a very sensitive blood test could rule out a heart attack in around two thirds of people arriving at A & E with chest pain. 

The research, published on 8th October in 'The Lancet,' involved over 6,000 people at 4 Scottish and U.S. hospitals with chest pain. The researchers evaluated the best way to use a blood test to measure troponin, a protein released from the heart during a heart attack and found the threshold at which they could rule out a heart attack and safely send people home.

Professor Jeremy Pearson, from the B.H.F., said "A faster and more accurate diagnosis of whether chest pain is caused by a heart attack would be better for patients and save the N.H.S. money. No-one wants to be in hospital unless they have to be."

"What's important about this study is that the evidence shows you can quickly and confidently rule out a heart attack without compromising patient safety."

My Dad

There was quite an age difference between my mother and father, around 20 years, so my father would have been in his early 40's when they got married in 1945. He would always appear to me, as a  young child, as being quite gruff and somewhat distant as a parent. This might be put down in part to the fact that he was profoundly deaf. This was due to an incident which happened when a gas-gun he was carrying in the back of the Land Rover exploded whilst being driven at the time. I should explain that these gas-guns were used on the farm as a way of frightening off birds, particularly pigeons,  from crops and operated on a timing system. No doubt the one that exploded hadn't been put on safety when it was being transported. He did eventually wear a hearing aid, but only when he could remember to use it and then when it was working correctly and not making loud whistling noises which must have been very uncomfortable for him. Once I'd left home, and after my mother had died in 1981 and you'd visit him he'd be sitting watching television with the sound turned up almost full volume and it was obvious that he wasn't using his hearing aid, so you'd have to hunt around for the television's remote control in order to reduce the volume so you could begin a conversation with him.

He was very good with his hands. He was an excellent welder and this would have been handy with regards repairing equipment on the farm. When we were very young children he constructed an amazing four-wheeled contraption which allowed four of us older children to pedal the thing around the village. It had a steering wheel like a car and the same sort of pedal and chain mechanism you'd find on a bicycle to power it. We sat behind each other rather like a tandem. I'm not sure what became of this wondrous machine, but I have an idea it met with a serious incident, perhaps ending up in a ditch or something worse as as a result being beyond repair and ending it's life in one of the barns on the farm and never being used again when we grew too big to be able to fit in it, which was a real shame.

My Dad certainly seemed extremely accident-prone. The incident which caused his deafness, or at least contributed in large measure to what poor hearing he had before the accident, was just the beginning. At harvest-time there were always problems of some sort or other with the various bits of machinery breaking down and then needing repair. The weather was always an important factor when the corn was being harvested, so if there was a threat of rain then the combine harvester or baling machine would have to come to a standstill. If there was a breakdown, and there were many, my father would be on the spot attempting to repair whatever machine it was in order to keep the harvest going. It was whilst attempting to repair the baling machine that he managed to cut his hand. There is an extremely sharp knife inside the machine which cuts the twine which runs around the bales of straw so I presume it was this which caused his injury. He was constantly shoving his hands inside these machines without any thought of injuring himself. He had to return to the farmhouse with blood pouring everywhere and my mother's training as a nurse must have come in useful as she cleaned up the wound and bandaged his hand but this didn't prevent him from returning to the harvest field to continue with repairing the baler.

On another occasion he was doing some sort of repair on the horse-box my mother owned which was used to transport her horses around to various places. I think he might have been replacing a tyre or something and didn't have the thing lifted up on the proper sort of lift such as you would expect to use for the purpose and the horse box was balanced precariously on a pile of bricks. It was just when my mother was about to serve up Sunday lunch and he came flying into the house, again with blood pouring everywhere. The horse box had collapsed and crushed one of his fingers. He was rushed off to Accident and Emergency in Bedford and it turned out the top-most segment of the finger that was crushed when the horse box collapsed on it had to be removed. Which ever surgeon did the operation did an amazing job but it meant he never had any finger nail on that finger. It must have hurt considerably, but he never seemed to show any sort of pain as a result of the accident.

There could be times when you were with him in the car when he was driving and it could be quite hair-raising, particularly if he was driving past a field that had been ploughed or was being harvested. He would be staring at the field and making comments, particularly if it was a neighbouring  farmer's  as he was sure to make some comment such as 'Huh, that's  a poor field of wheat!" or "ploughing's not very straight!" or "It's full of weeds!" and you'd be holding on to your seat for dear life as the car wandered all over the road and you'd be worried sick that you didn't end up either in the ditch or being hit head-on by another vehicle.

He knew a great deal about cars and it was always useful when something went wrong with your car, as he was really good at sorting problems out, particularly if you couldn't get your car to start, as was often the case with cars I owned, and usually first-thing in the morning if I was driving off somewhere in the middle of winter and it was cold and frosty. Also, if you were looking for a new car he would come with you and check out any car you might be consider buying and make some comment, either good or bad about a possible purchase. He would always ask you, if you were going on a long journey, "have you checked the oil, the tyres, water?" etc etc. All good advice, but it could get a bit tiresome at times.

When I was at Rushmoor School we used to have school on Saturday morning and he was supposed to come and collect me to bring me home afterwards. On several occasions he totally forgot to come and collect me and I was left standing on the pavement outside waiting patiently. He would no doubt be somewhere talking with someone or other and then realise he'd forgotten me. I think he had on one occasion actually gone home and my mother had asked him where I was, and he had to go all the way back to Bedford to collect me. It was on one such occasion when it was raining and I got soaked through, standing and waiting. All this long before mobile phones and being able to ring up or text, of course. It's amazing how we take such technology for granted. I'd love to know how he'd have responded to all the modern technology we have now, such as the internet, mobile phones and multi-channel television such as Sky. I think he would be overwhelmed by it all.

Dad had a passion for cars. Infact, almost anything mechanical or with an engine in it. Which would explain his ability to weld and to build the pedalled contraption already mentioned in this post. He had a variety of cars over the years. As we grew older, the need to have a vehicle which was merely a taxi to ferry us around, either to school or other places, became less and less. So be bought cars that were a little more, how should I say? Sporty? Built for speed? Probably. He had a Triumph Herald 12/50. A little green car. Quite a nifty little beast. But my father wasn't one to leave a car alone. He had to tinker with it and had twin carbs put on it, and extra dials added to the dashboard inside to measure R.P.M. etc. These refinements only made things more difficult when the car broke down. I remember driving with my mother to Fronton-On-Sea in this vehicle (see earlier post for description of our summer holidays on the Essex coast, particularly Frinton and Brightlingsea.) and this car kept over-heating. I think it was during a period of very hot weather. We had to stop in a lay-by somewhere en route, I think probably the Avenue of Remembrance near Colchester, and having to fill the radiator with water as the car was boiling over. I think it was definitely as a result of the 'extras' that had been added by my father. We didn't get much further on, only a couple more miles or so, and having to stop again to top up the radiator. You can imagine how long the journey took, as we had to wait for the radiator to cool down before taking off the cap to put water in. I can't remember where we got the water from. Probably we had to stop and ask at a petrol station or even a private house and no doubt we had a water can with us kept in the boot of the car.

A little later he bought a Triumph 1300 TC. I remember it was gray. He seemed to love it. For it's size and engine it was quite nifty as far as I remember. This was well before I passed my driving test, so I never actually got a chance to drive it. He then decided that my mother should have a car and he bought a second Triumph. This time a maroon colour. Well, as you would expect, my mother kept her in an immaculate condition. Inside and out were kept spotless. Meanwhile, my father's car was dirty. Well, living on a farm you expect there to be a lot of mud and other unmentionables. My mother stuck to driving on the roads. My father not only drove on the public highway but also drove around the farm on farm-tracks. More mud and manure. Also, he drove across fields, through the worst conditions imaginable and probably not the sort of conditions a car such as a Triumph 1300 TC was designed for. So no only the exterior of the car, but also it's interior became very dirty and unloved. Also, because it was driven across very uneven ground it seemed to effect the suspension or something and slowy and shortly it began to develop an annoying squeak as it was being driven. I don't suppose my father could hear it due to his deafness. To cap it all, because he smoked a pipe, and often when he was driving, the car began to fill up with rancid smoke and the smell of tobacco and the remnants of burnt tobacco. Which added not inconsiderably to the very run-down appearance of this vehicle.

Three Sunday Services at Milton Keynes Christian Centre

Starting today there are now three services on a Sunday morning at our church, Milton Keynes Christian Centre. We have been going there for a good 3-4 years. When we began there services were held in the original auditorium, but since then a new auditorium has been built which can hold around 500 people. Numbers have been steadily growing with around 1,000 people visiting and enjoying worship on a Sunday. So this is why an extra service was put on and we went to the very first one at 9 a.m. today. The other two are at 10.45 and 12.30. Strudwicks coffee shop is part of M.K.C.C. and is to be found in the foyer. All those who came to the 9 a.m. service got a free coffee and a mini muffin and we were allowed to take this into the service. Normally you're not supposed to take food or drink into the auditorium, but this was such a monumental occasion it was obviously felt necessary as a sort of 'carrot' to get people to come so early on a Sunday morning.
The service ended at around 10.25. We stayed to chat with several people and then we left. You have to park away from the church precinct as there isn't really room for too many cars and you mustn't park on the near-by streets in Oldbrook, so you have to park at Milton Keynes college carpark and either walk to M.K.C.C. along the Redway or take one of the Plus Busses which are put on to ferry people to and from the carpark. Those little green busses are a familiar sight around Milton Keynes and are intended for those with a disability, are elderly or can't access the regular public transport system. We decided to walk back to the car and then Carol had to take a book to a young girl she tutors who lives not far from M.K.C.C. Then we went home and then, as we got into Eaglestone estate Carol asked me whether I wanted a sunday paper. I said I did want one so we were on our way to Waitrose in Chaffron Way and were coming out of the estate and driving round the inner-ring road that encircles Eaglestone and about to come out onto Marlborough Street when we both saw a man lying on the grass at the side of the road. At first it wasn't clear whether he was asleep or injured so we had to stop the car and get out so we could approach him in order to verity whether he needed help. Having been trained in First Aid all my training began to snap into action. I was wondering whether he was dead at first as when we stopped the car he didn't make any movement.  In no way could we drive on without stopping. I was unsure whether he had had some sort of epileptic seizure or had fallen over and hit his head or been injured in some other way, but on getting nearer its was very obvious that he had been drinking due to the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. His speech was extremely slurred and when he eventually stood up he could barely walk. We didn't know whether he needed to go to Accident and Emergency, which after a short while it was clear that he didn't need to go to the hospital, but  he said he wanted to be taken home. He told us he lived in Broughton, and was able to direct us to his home, when he eventually got into the front of the car with me sitting in he rear. We drove down Chaffron Way and eventually found his home and left him knocking on the door. He said that his wife would be very annoyed with him as he presumably had gone out alone drinking somewhere in Milton Keynes, whether he had met up with friends the previous night it wasn't clear and we didn't remain outside his house to discover whether he was able to gain access to his home. It was good enough that we were able to give him a lift home after a very heavy drinking night but with so many strange people about he could easily have been injured so I'm glad we were able to help him.

Going To Accident and Emergency

I think I have already mentioned that Carol had a really nasty fall when she slipped over when we visited Waddesdon Manor on New Year's Day. She has been complaining about pain in her hand, and I had got Voltarol to use on it to try to relieve this pain. She has been using this for over a week, and although it has helped to a certain extent, it has not completely relieved the pain. Infact, she told me it might have got worse. This is in her left hand. This morning she said she was finding it really difficult to do simple things when she was dressing, even pulling up zips. I really thought that there was a good reason to go to the doctor with this problem or go to the Accident and Emergency department at the hospital, so at around 7.30 she rang the Academy and said she wouldn't be in until she'd been to be checked over for the injury. You have to ring in by 7.30 for cover to be set if you are ill.

There was really no point driving to Milton Keynes Hospital, because we live so close (it's just over the Redway to the back of our house.) and you have to pay to park, so it was going to be easier and a good deal less stressful to just walk there. It seems really awful to think you have to pay to park your car in a hospital car park, but that's a matter to discuss elsewhere.

So we set off and walked the half-mile or so, coming into the Accident and Emergency department the wrong way round. It really surprised me that we were never challenged by staff, as you do hear of some quite appalling incidents regarding security in hospitals. We went to the reception desk where they take basic details of your injury, name, address and so on, and we then had to sit and wait in the waiting area.  From experience myself, having gone through Accident and Emergeny regarding heart problems, they prioritize patients so that if you have a more life-threatening condition, you get seen before someone with a lesser condition.need/injury. Coronary conditions, particularly the possibility of heart attack, is obviously going to be further up the list, indeed, more likely at the top of the list, compared with someone who has a cut, bruise  or abrasion or minor problem.

By now it was around 8 a.m. There was a hand-written sign up saying that there was a waiting time of approximately 6 HOURS, but as this was for the previous day it was difficult to judge how quickly we would be seen. I do think the information should have been more up to date. It wouldn't have taken that long for a member of staff to clear this old information and put up the current approximate waiting time. There were quite a few other people waiting in the waiting area.

After about 15-20 minutes Carol's name was called and we were taken into the Triage Department, where a male nurse took far more detailed information regarding the injury to Carol's hand. About an hour later Carol was called again and was seen by a Care Practitioner who did a further examination and it was then decided that Carol's hand would require X-raying. This was done in the Accident and Emergency X Ray department which was a little further into the department. After this was done we returned to the waiting area (having been through this department myself, it is all extremely familiar.) and we were joined by Carol's friend Judy who works in the hospital, but I'm not entirely in what capacity, but she always shows up like a guardian angel at just the right time to give support. A truly lovely lady. 

The we returned to the Care Practioner lady's office to look at the by-then developed X rays of Carol's hand and it was decided that she would need some therapy on the hand from the Hand Therapy Unit. I was never aware that there was such a department in the hospital. She could go there immediately or an appointment could be made for a later date, but it seemed sensible to get something set up as soon as possible, so we walked there around the outside of the hospital. 

The room was set up with quite a few tables, with people sitting at them and OT staff (Occupational Therapy) staff working on exercises on patients' hands that had been injured in whatever fashion, similar to Carl. It was decided that Carol would have to wear a splint on her hand until it heals, and this was produced, and is kept in place with strips of Velcro. She has to come back in about a week to have it checked and to see how her hand is healing. 

It was gone 12 midday when we eventually left the hospital. So, we had been there around 4 hours, which wasn't as long as it might have taken, and at least there was an outcome, with Carol having her hand injury seen and given something to relieve the injury. 

We walked home and Carol went into work back at the Academy.

Car Accident

Yesterday afternoon I went to collect Carol in the car. She's been having problems with her leg, due I'm certain, as a result of the incident at the Academy when a lot of the students were fighting and they had to be separated. It seems to have been quite nasty from what she was telling me. I got a tube bandage for her leg and ankle and it has been strapped up, and walking has been quite painful. So, instead of walking to the Academy I have driven her there and collected her in the evening. 

I left the house slightly earlier than usual to drive the short distance to the Academy but we never come out  of this estate opposite the Academy and onto the grid road (Saxon Street)  as it can be really difficult to get out, due to traffic (this will be relevant as this post continues, as you will discover.) although early morning you can manage to cross over as there is generally very little traffic about. A reason for this may be that there is a 40 m.p.h. speed limit along that stretch of road from the roundabout on Chaffron Way to the next one on Standing Way, due to the hospital and the Academy are along that road. Anyway, because I'd left early I decided to go to the local shop in Eaglestone to get some milk and a tin of pineapple for use in our evening meal. From there I drove out of the estate onto Chaffron Way and then round into Saxon Street with the intention of driving into the Academy and parking as I usually do before going into the Academy reception to wait for Carol to come out. As I drove towards the turning into the Academy there was quite a queue of traffic ahead of me. A car was attempting to turn out of Eaglestone onto Saxon Street and another car was come in the opposite direction. The car turning out of the estate collided with the other car, forcing the other car to spin round in the road and hit the opposite curb. There were bits of plastic bumper flying everywhere from both cars, and a large section of the car which turned out of Eaglestone lying in the centre of the carriageway. As I am a trained First Aider and has seen all that had happened, I thought that I must go to see if the lady in the car which had ended up on the kerb directly outside the Academy was alright and might need some First Aid or at least I could say that I would be a witness if the need arose. 

I drove into the road leading up to the Academy entrance and parked up, making sure that I wasn't obstructing any traffic going in or out of the Academy, and walked down to the road where the car was, having ended up on the kerbside. I approached the driver and she looked really shaken up, tears running down her face and in a really bad state. There was no blood and she didn't appear to be seriously injured. I just said that if she needed assistance I was there to help her. There was a long tail-back of traffic on either side of the road, but no other driver made the slightest attempt to stop and assist. The lady who had driven out of Eaglestone and who had collided with the other car was on the opposite side of the road. She eventually crossed over to contact the other driver. I wondered if the lady who had been in the car which had been hit would need to go to Accident and Emergency at the hospital, but she didn't appear to have suffered any serious injury which needed any sort of hospital treatment, except for some pain in her shoulder, which, I presume, had been caused by the seat belt tightening when the car had braked suddenly during the collision. 

I rang Carol on my mobile to let her know what had happened and she eventually came out of the Academy and walked down to the scene of the accident. The lady who's car was outside the Academy and on the curb phoned her father, as she was on the way to collect her two children from school, and the Police who turned up extremely quickly to take down details of what happened. As the lady got out of her car there was a slow hissing sound and I at first thought it might have been the radiator which had burst in the accident, but it turned out to be one of the front tyres which had been damaged in the accident and had a slow puncture. The Policeman who appeared drove the car up and onto the verge and left it there. Then the lady's father arrived and she went off with him. I gave my details so that I could give a witness statement at a later date. 

Even throughout all this there were people driving past, and some getting really annoyed that they had to slow down, some driving on the slip road that went into the drive up to the Academy entrance, and, again, nobody made any attempt to stop to help.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 . . . To be continued . . .

My Heart Attack

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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