Category Archives: work

The Old Bat has a M.R.I. scan on her back and emergency surgery on her stomach.

I am hoping to have a spinal operation soon, most readers know how  this came about so I will only give a brief summary. When I was in my teens,I used to train racehorses for my father. During this time I injured myself,  I am now in my eighties and the damage  has got a lot worse, I am unable to move without a lot of pain. An operation has been planned,  the surgeon is going to remove the piece of bone that is crushing my spinal chord. Until that time, I am in the hands of a band of people working for the NHS. In the past, I have heard so many grumbles about the NHS, that I feel that I must tell you how it is for me.

Up to Christmas time, I  worked  as a receptionist, I loved it because I met people who became friends. I had to leave because it became too difficult to leave my flat, too many steps between my front door and the pavement. I then made the decision to ask for a bit of help because I could not get in and out of my shower. This is when an army of helpers arrived.  The first to arrive was the practice nurse who came to take a blood sample, then a number of carers arrived . One came to help me wash myself properly.  I was able to wash everything except my back which she did for me. It was  then discovered that I had a small sore which had to be cured before I could have the operation, so another nurse arrived to put sterile dressings on that. This meant that nurses comes to look after it twice a week. When I asked the carer if she could put the cream that had been prescribed for my back, she said that she was not allowed to do it without permission.. Permission arrived, in the form of a piece of paper on Easter Sunday, in the evening.  I am truly grateful for all the help but feel that I am having a bit too much.

Years ago, in 2008, I made a living will which clearly states exactly what I want to happen if I am unable to speak for myself. I thought that I had covered every eventuality, so when a senior nurse came along with a lot of paper work, I was a bit annoyed. I had to answer many questions about my ‘End of Life’ care. I thought that I had more than covered that in the living will, I do know that there can be problems when things go wrong. All my treatments had to be covered legally again in detail, from the’Health and Safety’ point of view.. It was not a jolly couple of hours.

Yesterday I went for my M.R.I. scan at the hospital.  Because I cannot walk down to the pavement, I had to be taken by ambulance. The ambulance men came to the door with a carrying chair in which I sat until I transferred into the ambulance. It was great being driven along because I could see all the gardens springing into flower, masses of daffodils camellias and magnolias in full bloom. The scan went well, and I was taken home by ambulance three hours later. I found the waiting hard because I was stuck sitting in a very hard chair the whole time. On the way back I saw my own garden for the first time in months, it looks wrecked with many tubs filled with water, probably drowning my favourite fuchsias. The  day had gone well, the ambulance men were friendly, the radiographers efficient,  the scan was completely  pain free, the nurses kind, however, I felt completely exhausted. Today, I am still feeling the effects of yesterdays adventures, I am very glad that the scan is over, it is quite difficult to remain completely still for 15 minutes, locked in a noisy metal tube. I am  lucky that I am not not claustrophobic, and that I was given ear plugs to help with the noise. For any patient that cannot cope, there is piece of sponge that they can squeeze to stop the whole process. There is nothing to worry about, you just have to relax, there is no pain at all.

The Old Bat is rushed into hospital..

One week later. April 15th,  shock ,horror, I was taken ill during the night with non stop vomiting.The ‘out of hours service’ sent an ambulance and I was whisked off to hospital. I cannot remember what happened next. I have lost a whole week.  All I can recall is having vividly coloured morphine dreams in which I starred, and had a wonderful time. I eventually came back to the land of reality in the high dependancy unit having had serious  surgery on my stomach. I was connected to many ‘drips’ and such. For the next week I had ‘nothing by mouth’.

I was very curious to know what had happened. I knew that I was going to have a back operation, hence the MRI scan, but I did not expect  major surgery on my stomach. It turned out that the problem was nothing to do with my back but had everything to do with an operation that I had fifty years ago for diverticulitis. Apparently a small bit of tissue that had been left behind had grown and grown until a cobweb of tissue had completely blocked the small bowel.  The surgeon had been very clever and had cut out the blocked part and had sewn it all back together again.

I remained. in hospital for 16 days. I have to say that the nursing care  was wonderful.The young staff nurses who  ran the ward were amazing, In fact all the staff were both efficient, caring and overworked. Many thanks to staff nurses, Becky, Fred, Lauren and Hazel, who arrived at 7.30 am in their running shoes, every hair in place, and left at 7.30pm  completely exhausted  and dishevelled.  Many days they had not even  had  time for a lunch break. Nurses, Charlotte and Mark were outstanding.

I am now home again waiting for a date in June for the back operation. I have recovered quickly from the stay in hospital and I am quite happy to be managing at home with the help of carers.

May 19th

I received a letter this morning from Mr Chopra’s secretary, informing me that I have a pre-admission examination and assessment on Tuesday June 26th..I was very pleased to receive this long awaited appointment but disappointed to have to wait another 5 weeks. I just have to have bit more patience. I am helped in this by my extremely good friends and family who visit me regularly. Except for my 16 days in hospital, and my trip for the MRI scan, I have not left my 2 roomed flat since Christmas. Thank goodness for the TV and books .However today, I am determined to get outside with the help of a  friend and a four wheeled ‘walker’, I want to see my garden and feel the sun once again.

June 6th.

I have just been to see another flat, which is just five doors away, but has entrances straight off the streets, no steps at all. My very good friends pushed me in a fold up wheel chair, It was hilarious, it took three strong people to get me there. The flat is very nice. It has two bedrooms, a cosy living room, an adequate kitchen,. and a nice little garden which faces south. I am going to take it as I will be able to get out and about again and not feel like a prisoner. My children and friends will be able to drive up to the gate and I will be able to step into their cars.  I hope to move in  two weeks time. It will be a new start which I will tell you all about.

Many thanks for all your good wishes, many beautiful cards delivered to my hospital bed.

 

 

 

 

 

Decision Time for one Old Bat.

It is very difficult for some people to admit that they are getting old and need help. I admit that I am one of them. I have lived on my own for sixteen years and so far, I have managed reasonably well, but not now. In previous blogs I have written about the injuries I sustained as a young woman when I helped train race horses  for my father, who was an international horseman. These injuries have now got to the stage that I cannot walk very far, and I certainly cannot cope with steps. Living in a ground floor flat is good, but unfortunately the front door is eight steps up from the pavement, so it is getting more and more painful  to leave the building.  In fact, I have not left the flat for nearly three weeks, so I have to make a decision about my future.

It is not an easy decision. If I move I will not be able to see my wonderful doctor. I learned this morning that boundaries have been moved and I am not actually in the area served by my surgery. I was only allowed to stay here because I had been with them before the  change to the boundaries.

During the time that I have lived in my flat, I have made  many good friends and I am extremely reluctant to move away from them. They all make sure that I am not lonely. Loneliness is the scourge of old age,  and the company of really good friends makes life worth living.

Yesterday, I had a visit from a representative from Disability Wales, an organisation that helps people stay in their homes. Unfortunately, they could not help me.  The suggestion of replacing the outside steps with a ramp instead of the steps is not possible, because the gradient is too high and the distance  too long. A big disappointment, as I thought that this was the answer to my problem.

Days later

In the mean time, I have been in touch with the Housing Dept in order to put my name down on the waiting list for ‘sheltered’ accommodation’. It is almost impossible to get a flat in this district but I have to be on the list to be considered in the future. I am also going to get in touch with the local estate agents to see if they have a suitable flat.

The estate agents say that there are no suitable flats available.

Many days later

I was woken up this morning by a telephone call from the Surgical Unit at the hospital, offering me an appointment with the Spinal Surgeon next Tuesday morning at 7.30. They had a cancellation so I was very pleased to say that I would gladly take it. Such good news, I will let you all know how I get on. I am not expecting miracles, but a little less pain would be wonderful.

Tuesday January 30th

This morning, I had an appointment with Mr Chopra, the surgeon at Llandhough Hospital, to discuss my pain problem. Mr Chopra explained that as I had not had any relief from the spinal injections, the only step left was to have surgery. He put the MRI scan picture on his screen, and explained to me that it showed my spinal cord being  crushed by the bone of a damaged vertebra. The only hope of pain relief was to remove the bone, and replace it with metal and screws. This would mean quite a stay in hospital. There was no 100 per cent guarantee that this would work. If I did not have the operation my condition would continue to deteriorate until I would not be able to walk at all. He told me that after another MRI scan, he would operate in April.

Now, I can postpone all decisions until after the operation, and recovery time.  When, with a big bit of luck, I will be able to walk and navigate stairs. This will  enable me to remain in my present flat and on my doctor’s list. This is all thanks to our wonderful National Health Service, which is free. If things do not go to plan, I will have to face up to the situation of having to be looked after by professionals, and make arrangements accordingly.

Thinking of the Rohingyan people of Mayanmar, formerly Burma.

I live in a large house divided into 6 flats. My nearest neighbour is a mature student from Singapore called Hannah, who is a Punk. We spend much time chatting about world affairs. At the moment most of our talk is about the situation in Rohinga, formerly part of Burma. All my life I have looked up to the civilian leader, Aung San Suu Kyi who had spent all her life fighting for the oppressed people of the world. I am now shocked to find that she is doing nothing to help the Muslim Burmese who are dying of starvation on their way to Bangladesh. Clive Myrie of the BBC has sent graphic reports back home to our T.V. sets so that we can all make our minds up about the situation.

Normally, there is an appeal to the general public to raise money to help. I was glad to hear that the government had sent a large amount of money to Bangladesh to help with building camps and treating the many children to prevent disease.
Hannah is very keen to help in some way. Using the Internet, she found the name of the only punk band to come from Burma, RIOT REBELS. Luckily they are touring the UK at the moment trying to raise money for the people at home. Hannah tracked them down (on the internet) to the Red Lion pub in Bristol. So on Saturday night she went with friend to the pub with our donation, bought two tee shirts and had a long talk with the four exhausted young men. The Riot Rebels have gigs in small venues which you can find on the Internet. They only charge £3 entrance fee but depend on donations. I think that they need to charge more – they do not seem to realise that they are selling themselves too cheaply (perhaps £3 is a lot of money in Rohingya?). They were so pleased with our donation, a tiny drip in the ocean.

If the Riot Rebels are going to play at a pub near you, please go and support them, as it will help many others. You can visit their Facebook page here: https://www.facebook.com/therebelriot/. Please also visit the following page, which is the site of their charity, ‘Food Not Bombs’: https://www.facebook.com/fnbmyanmar/. Hannah thought that their music was good too. I’m afraid that I am not a punk so I cannot say!