The 3rd day I was transferred to the hospital my diabetic doctor works in., shifted onto the ambulance’s travel bed. I was too wide for it and they had to fold my arms over me, take out the hand drip and tilt me on my side. Then there was the covering-me-with-a-blanket game, just like the pyjamas saga….after much yelling and bringing in a passing orderly, they found a second blanket. I only realised I was too long for the bed when they tried to put all the sides up and had to poke my feet out through the bottom bars (so the 2nd blanket still didn’t really cover them!). I spent a very trippy trip talking to things, scaring the old cantonese lady sharing the ride. We dropped her off at a hospital on the way. Funnily enough I was supposed to be painting at a doctors party there that afternoon…so I sort of was there for it in passing! I woke up being wheeled through the next hospital and couldn’t work out why the guy pulling my bed was laughing while the one pushing from the feet end was swearing (I think). Then I realised that as my feet stuck out, if the bed stopped or he tried to push too hard he was getting his bits crushed by them. Oops!
In the new ward, instead of sliding me from 1 bed to another, they asked me to walk. I did (nearly) and giggled my head off when I realised all 3 nurses who rushed to grab me before I landed on the floor/ my neighbour only just reached my armpits. On reflection, I don’t think they knew what ‘timber!’ meant and definitely didn’t know the Lumberjack Song. The new pyjamas were a nightmare – white (who thought that was a good idea? With sick people leaking asstd fluids and not having the strength to eat tidily?), with a weird drawstring arrangement – a continuous loop so you couldn’t tie a bow in it. And MASSIVE – they obviously though their biggest size would be long enough for me. They weren’t, and with the drip in each arm I couldn’t tie a bow – but then Pete couldn’t either that evening, so whenever I moved I had to hold them up or expose my knickers.
The nurses went into panic about my high temperature - “skwemely hi fevah, missy, why they no cold you?” and FINALLY gave me icepacks which were heaven. Just when I was nearly asleep, they stuck my hand drip back, and a catheter in me (not as nasty as I expected) and rolled me off to an isolation ward. (As I could be infectious – still no idea why I was ill). It was a less crowded, glaringly lit ward full of tiny mad old ladies. With me against a window furthest from the door, behind a big purple screen, scary signs and a “wear a robe & gloves, discard & wash hands” sign separating me from the rest. When Pete tracked me down (luckily they had rung him to say I’d changed hospitals) I thought I was seeing things again. Blonde scruffy hair, big purple paper gospel singer hospital robe, latex gloves, the patio parasol umbrella I got to shade my stall, dirty bright red surfer shorts, and purple and pink sparkly flipflops. My own fault really – he was knackered & stressed by the new job without me getting ill and him having to leave early to visit me all the time…so he lost his brolly and his new pair of flip-flops blew overboard. He’d been wandering barefoot around Wan Chai (mega busy dirty city highrise area) trying to find any shoes his size and had to settle for ladies! He didn’t endear himself by telling me what me new interesting colour I was (I had been ranging from purple/ pink with fever to green and grey, apparently). And had a go at brushing my manky hair for me (drips meant I couldn’t move my arms). I nearly cried 1st as he needs practice at basic hairdressing, and secondly as he didn’t tie it tight enough so it all fell out of the ponytail the moment he left.
Spring blubell swirl face face painting - won a comp with this - by www.cats-creations.co.uk
Originally uploaded by wildcatfin.
Highlights of the week; mad old lady trying to show me the contents of her nappies (she also kept trying to get into bed with a sick young woman on the other side of the ward). Realising you have top provide EVERYTHING even loo roll yourself – only boiled water in a jug provided. Being called Ann (middle name) as no-one understood any of my other names. Managing to eat 1 spoonful of sweet runny porridgy stuff then falling asleep on the table-tray. Actually feeling hungry and taking a huge gulp of what I though was the same porridge the next day, only to realise it was mashed gloppy fish saucey rice. That and what looked like catsick at lunch put me off food until I left! The racket made at night – anything that in the UK nurses would do quietly, switching on a light over the patient, here needed a gaggle of nurses and the entire ward lights switched on (by the time I was feeling better and actually thinking I could sleep, I was so wound up by this 1 of them apologised as she could see me twitching at each cackle). Nice night nurse who taught me the Cantonese for toes (sounds like deentsy tongue) as my fingers were so over-bled they moved to getting samples from my toes. Passing out when the dietician came to talk to me – think it was sitting up after a week! Luckily she thought it was funny and was boasting she’d scared me. What else – oh how the mobile phone switch off was ignored – and with the usual screamingly loud volumes of ringtone/ ‘talking’ I was close to stabbing other patients with my drips.
Ships cat Domino debating - eat or be eaten? - spotting the black kite circling
Originally uploaded by wildcatfin.
Anyway I kept being told I could go ‘soon’ then being kept in another day. As I really couldn’t face the food, Pete & I were both desperate to get me out and I cried a lot each time they kept me in (tough or what). Finally they said I could go if my sugars were ok (yes) and I could walk (no). But I’d made it to the loo a few times the day before, with Pete, so he stood behind me hanging on to the back of my clothes which kept me reasonably straight – so they said yes. We were out of there like a shot – didn’t even wait for all the pills! Pete nicked a wheelchair as soon as we were out of sight and had to help me have a shower, but wow, GREAT!
Had a couple of weeks recovering – not as skinny as I’d have hoped after all the no food/ being sick, but still! Don’t know what it was – 1 lot said raw fish (nope, had none), another said eggs (was 1/4s in the salad all 3 of us shared but Pete & sue were fine). And if it was the food why isolate me? Then I realised if it was food doesn’t it usually start a few hours after you eat it, not 12 hours on? If I can find things I like on the new Chinese diet method of helping to manage my sugars I think it will be sensible – you KNOW the carb value of each meal in advance so can inject suitable insulin………
Spoty dotty face paint for a comp & also publish in a magazine, www.cats-creations.co.uk
Originally uploaded by wildcatfin.
Too hot on the boat, we woke up around 5 am most days, sweating as the sun arrived, even with no sheets on top of us AND the fans on. The cat & I were panting all day praying for a breeze. SO I was quite glad to be able to rebook my flight and head off to the UK!
No comments:
Post a Comment