Important message…

Just a quickie to say that I’m waiting for the doctor, and I may well be in hospital before the day’s out (COPD-related).

I hope I’m wrong, but if I disappear, that’s why. And, of course, all being well, I’ll be back as soon as I can…

Ron.

6 thoughts on “Important message…

  1. good luck Ron, suffering with copd myself so know a little of what your going through, and want to say your doing a great job on here, if only to raise awareness of copd, i phoned my doctors surgery last week to ask for an appointment only to be asked is it an emergency, not liking to to take an emergency place, just explained i had broken a couple of ribs and wanted to see if there was any thing to suppress the normal morning cough (bloody hell pain!!!)with copd, “what is copd” the receptionist replied, and she has been there at least 10 years, keep up the great work and hope everything goes right for you

  2. Thanks, all – much appreciated.

    Turned out to be pneumonia, which in turn has punched through into the pleural cavity to cause empyema – there’s a very good, but gruesome pic on Wikipedia, which shows perfectly where my lung capacity went (it’s a front view and matches me perfectly). Don’t go there if you’re squeamish.

    I’m out, for now at least (long story but after 4 sleepless nights with snorers, shouters and screamers, I was so unravelled I was ready to kill somebody – probably me).

    I talked to the staff nurse early this morning, and explained the situation Within an hour she had the whole medical team around me. I explained what I needed, they said if you discharge yourself, you’ll die or be back here in a day or two – I said if I spent a fifth sleepless night I’d be so unravelled I wouldn’t care.

    The snorers I could sleep through, even though it was like a chainsaw festival, but the shouts from badly under-medicated surgical patients on the bay every time the staff pestered them and poked them (about every half hour), not to mention the screamers on the psych unit down the passage, were a whole different ball game. Then to top it all off, there was the mad git in the next bed, yelling at everyone making a noise!!! Then there was me yelling at him to shut the fuck up!

    We kicked it back and forth, the med team and me, and, in the end, they said if I was determined, they’d discharge me properly, with enough back-up drugs that I should be OK – which is what happened. That was at about 11.00 today. Took until 20.00 to scare up all my meds (and they’re still taxiing out more tomorrow), plus a taxi home (on the hospital).

    So, a good** result, and I can finally get some sleep (of course, if I’d remembered ear plugs it wouldn’t have been a problem, but I was hauled away to fast I barely had a chance to pack).

    **For a given value of good – there’s still no knowing which way this is going to go (and to be fair, I’m feeling pretty scared, not to mention screwed!), but at least I can breathe – when I was hauled away I had the lung capacity of a sparrow – I was breathing faster than my heart was beating.

    On the plus side, I’ve lost over a stone and hospital food is way better than it was last time (when I got breadcrumbed fish that had been steamed!), on the downside the med team sent a message by a different staff nurse, asking if I realised my heart failure was so bad – bloody weird way to do it! And why no meds? Well, most conflict with what I’m taking, and one of the principal cor pulmonale drugs, Aminophylline, I already take, so maybe nowhere to go with that, but it needs following up urgently – I’m not ready to go just yet.

    ASAP – but not yet, sitting here typing is way too painful – I feel as if I’ve been shot in the back and I need to slob out, there’ll be a full report of the shambles that masquerades as medical care in Wirral’s principal hospital. And the stars, though excellence was spread thin.

    As for the cuts, they were busy closing the place down around us!!!

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