For those of you wondering where the hell I’ve got to, I’ve been in hospital again, which many of you will already know.
I’m pretty much back where I was between this time last year and March of this year, which is to say unable to eat, yet persistently vomiting – well, futilely retching, anyway (actually, last nights’ “meal” of a wedge of rather nice Wensleydale plus a thinly-sliced, gently-pickled, baby beetroot, somewhat surprisingly stayed put). The difference being that, this time, I know what’s going on so hopefully I won’t get close to starving myself to death like I did last time.
I still maintain, though, Continue reading →
If you’ve been wondering where I’d got to, that’s where. I’m out now though – escaped yesterday.
Let’s start with something positive. In 2011 I was stuck in Ward 34, APH, where they tried to kill me (already amply covered), and from where, after 4 days and nights of sleep deprivation, in desperation I got myself discharged while some ragged edges of sanity still remained.
Sleep deprivation, by the way, is a breach of the Geneva Convention.
This time, same ward, while it was noisy during the day, it was silent at night. Made a massive difference.
Having a side room to myself also made a huge difference.
I had diarrhoea when admitted, which got me the room – oddly, my MRSA counted for nothing – WHY?
The trots fizzled out and Continue reading →
The following letter will by faxed to my vascular consulant at Clatterbridge Hospital, Wirral, on Monday, November 4. If it fails to have the desired effect, I’m screwed:-
Dear Mr. Xxxxxxxx,
I had a telephone call from your secretary some time ago, to the effect that, as I’d cancelled the ultrasound scan at APH, you felt unable to proceed further unless I rearranged it. Let me explain why I can’t do that. Continue reading →
Having been notified, by my GP, in a tone of voice that suggested his dog had just died, that the wounds in my lymphoedema-inflated legs were infected with MRSA, my first thought was “Oh shit, I’m gonna die!”.
So, naturally, I Googled MRSA mortality rates, and while Google threw numbers at me Continue reading →
My local hospital boasts a zero infection rate for MRSA. They continued to do so when they had at least one case – me.
I could have picked up the MRSA I was told about today in the hospital in March-April. I was in for 6 weeks, they tested me on admission Continue reading →
Can Amazon sell me a hooded robe, a brass handbell and a staff with a plaque bellowing “Unclean!” at the world?
I’ve been telling every bugger who’ll listen, for weeks now, that there is something seriously wrong with my legs, beyond Lymphoedema which, trust me, is bad enough. And back comes the stock, meaningless answer, “You have cellulitis.”
Meaningless because all that means is that I have an as yet unspecified infection.
This morning I got a phone call on my landline – so Continue reading →