By now it was July and I should have been looking forward to our annual trip to Zante. Its the only break we really get and I was gutted that we had to cancel.
It was bad enough being off work - I'm one of those people that are no good at having my work done by anyone else. Its supposed to be a bad trait to have, but thats just the way I am. I do things my way, and I want it to be done my way - and by ME!! My friend Vicky fell into my seat to take on the work I wasn't there to do, but I hated every minute of it. I always called it my baby - and boy was I having withdrawal symptons. But there was nothing I could do about it so I just had to get on with it. I was hoping that I could maybe get back soon but I think I was getting a bit premature.
Anyway, I was lying on the sofa one day, and got up quickly to answer the door - when I sat back down, something just went and the pain that went down the back of my legs was undescribable. The only way I could bear it was if I lay flat, any attempt to sit up or get up was just agonizing. I was screaming and crying and terrifed what was happening to me. Mick called the Dr and a locum came out. Told me to double up on my pain medication and more or less left me to it. He did call for the ambulance service to come and get me up the stairs to bed - and the district nurse came and brought me a bedpan, which I couldn't even get onto without a great deal of help.
I spent the evening just crying in pain until the ambulance came about 1 in the morning and got me in a chair, I don't know how, and got me up the stairs and into bed. Once I was laid flat I felt a lot better but I still couldn't use the bed pan. It wasn't a good position to be in.
The next morning my GP came out and when she saw the condition I was in, she called an ambulance to get me into the local hospital. I thought there I would get sorted out, but for some reason, the only bed available was on the heart ward, probably the only part of me that actually was working fine!
I wish I could say that this was a good move, but if I had any idea of what hell is like, then I don't think I was far from it. I was xrayed and scanned as they were afraid that I might have had a spinal cord compression - apparantly this is a medical emergency and extremely serious. It wasn't that.
Other than that, the only treatment I got was continued pain killers. I still could only use the bed pan with a lot of help, this in itself was soul destroying. Not a lot of dignity left when you can't even see to your own bodily functions.
The nursing staff were busy, but even when they were seeing to you, they didn't seem to be able to give you any personal attention. They did what they had to and no more. Tended to talk about you or at you, but never to you. And when you spend the night listening to some poor soul crying out for a bed pan, only to be told they too busy to see to her with the result of her doing her business where she lay, you just get more and more depressed. One old lady looked like she was on her last legs and I had to ask the nurses to have a look at her - she ended up spending the night with her family round the bed as she was obviously nearing the end. She rallied though - don't know how - it certainly wasn't with the attention she got.
This and the constant pain I was in, made me very depressed. I was in tears all the time, which so isn't me. The Reverand sat and talked to me, even though I told her I wasn't really a follower, but she didn't seem to mind my non believer status and came to visit me every day and just talked about every day things. My family came every day, but they were upset to see me in the state I was in.
It came to a head when the nurses insisted that I get out of bed to use the commode instead of the bed pan. Now bearing in mind that as soon as I made any attempt to get into a sitting position, the most excrutiating pain shot down the back of both legs, then it didn't bode well for a very productive time on a commode. But there they left me, and left me, and left me............. I was crying and screaming for someone to help me as the pain got worse and worse and I couldn't move off the commode. Eventually a nurse and a physio came in and got me back into bed. I was distraught.
Thank heavens for the Macmillan Nurse! She visited and within a few hours she had got me a bed in the local hospice. I had no thoughts of what that could mean, other than it was a bed away from this house of horrors!
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