Updated November 14 for clarity and typos.
This morning I met with the vascular surgeon.
To be honest, it didn’t start well, and a couple of nurses descended upon me and asked would I be OK to move from my powerchair to the couch. I’d only just begun to realises that, for a wonder, I had no pain at all (after an agonising and horribly early start to my day), so I said if they could do their thing while I stayed in my chair, I’d be happier as I had no desire to awaken my leg, but, if I really had to, I could move. We agreed I could stay where I was.
New rules sort of apply here – The View from Bed Three. No photos.
Surgery is looking more attractive by the day. Nurses arrived an hour late this morning, no explanation, no apology and – even worse – no supplies. AGAIN!
So I had to raid my hidden, only to be used in the direst emergency stash, meagre though it is. Or was – it’s now gone. And I had to construct a usable dressing by combining 3 separate items. It works, but it shouldn’t have to happen!
And, I’m sorry to say, there was a lot of anger – mine. When they say, at 11.00 “We’ll be there in half an hour” and still haven’t shown up by 12.30 a phone call at some point isn’t an unreasonable expectation, not least because when leg ulcers are exposed to the air they become even more painful than normal. And trust me, normal is something you do not want to experience. As it was I was sat here wetting it down with Prontosan wound wash to keep it moist.
My nurses are taking the piss.
Yesterday I was told that my two lesions had merged into one big ulcer. Not happy, but not unexpected.
Thing is, I can’t actually see for myself due to the awkward location – I can see it clearly only with my camera and it was late yesterday when I thought to check for myself (I take photos at every dressing change). This is the result. Continue reading