Good news, yes? What about the discharge papers...This is good, too? I'm just glad your mind is more at ease. :)|
Reply #1601. Oct 18 10, 3:20 PM
|Thank you, it's very very good. There is a world of difference between someone saying you're not going to like me very much but I want you to start taking an anti-coagulant: and someone else saying if you agree I shall book you in for cardioversion, which has a 90% success rate, but we'll need to put you on an anti-coagulant for six weeks because there's a small risk of clotting if we don't, and do you want it done here or in Bedford? |
And I'm so pleased that he's told me what he used the veins for, which is what the operating team told Jonathan, and not what they're used for 999 times out of a thousand in normal people.
Ooh I forgot to mention - Jonathan asked him about cross-clamp time, which means no blood going through my heart, and he said two hours two minutes. Two hours of having my heart stopped - woohoo!
Reply #1602. Oct 18 10, 4:14 PM
This 'cross-clamp' was already done during the surgery, yes? So...any interesting memories of those two+hours? ;)|
You sound very content. The kid is a wonder! Happy for you!
Reply #1603. Oct 18 10, 7:40 PM
Good news-that's the only kind we want :)|
Reply #1604. Oct 19 10, 2:12 AM
|Nope, no interesting memories. No out-of-body experiences or meetings with long-dead loved ones. Just eight hours of unconsciousness, including two and a half hours of being on a "heart-lung machine," with two hours and two minutes of being clinically dead in the middle of that... followed by 48 hours of not really wanting to wake up and finally being very glad that I did. |
Sprog's interest is personal but also professional, and it was a hoot listening to him and the surgeon throwing jargon at each other.
There were two women in the room where we went for my ECG, and he was talking to both of them.
One of them said we never *ever* get sons in here. Patients come with mothers, daughters, sisters, husbands, wives. When a son brings a patient, the son is just the driver, and doesn't want to know about their treatment. They must have taken a shine to him because they gave him a copy of the ECG print-out. :)
I am indeed content, because I know what their ideas are and the reasons behind them.
Reply #1605. Oct 19 10, 5:24 AM
Why is it, I wonder, that a daughter or husband can ask questions and a son can't? (Sad!)|
Reply #1606. Oct 19 10, 5:46 AM
Jazmee........was going to say, "It's a male thing", because when I was in a similar position to Lesley....Intensive Care Cardiac Unit, my wife was cross-examining the Surgeon. Whilst pretty much "out of it", I must admit to having been totally disinterested in WHAT they were doing, as long as whatever it was worked!|
I did not have surgery, but at one stage had the cardiac staff scuttling around like proverbial blue-tailed flies, as I wasn't far from departing the world.
Lesley, like you, most disappointing really........no "tunnel of light", no "long lost family"........just aware of drifting in and out of consciousness.
Thus, in retrospect, confirming (for me at least) suspicion that "life hereafter" is so much fairy-tale to bolster humans that need to consider they are of importance to the scheme of things. You get born, live and die, IMO......full stop.
Reply #1607. Oct 19 10, 8:15 AM
Glad it went well Lesley am just waiting for my chicken to cook for my Lemon Chicken i am having tonight.|
Reply #1608. Oct 19 10, 10:25 AM
|The woman in the hospital seemed to think it was a man thing. Years ago, I read about a man who had taken a few years out of his career, and was trying to get back into work. Every time it felt like the job was his for the taking, the interviewer would as what he had done for the missing years. As soon as he said he'd been looking after his mother, the interest would flow out of them. Thank you for coming, don't call us, we'll call you. |
I wasn't disappointed not to have any of the "classic" experiences, just relieved to open my eyes and see my sprog and his girlfriend by the side of my bed. Sprog had been quizzing the surgeon, his assistants, the anaesthetists, the scrub nurses, sorry if I've left anyone out, with the result that he had a much better idea of what they'd done than all the local people, who were relying on stereotypes to tell me what was wrong with me - and getting it wrong, because what most people have isn't what everyone has.
Ooh that's your signature dish, Gary. Hope it went down well!
Reply #1609. Oct 20 10, 12:53 PM
|He was going to come with me on Monday and go home Monday evening, but he stayed till this afternoon, which was nice. He'll be back with his girlfriend tomorrow evening and for the weekend, which I'm looking forward to. |
Reply #1610. Oct 20 10, 12:55 PM
|Today has been outstanding. |
On Tuesday morning, three days ago, I rang the anti-coagulant clinic at Bedford hospital, to ask for an appointment (to replace the Friday morning one I'd declined, but I didn't mention that. I'm learning to keep things simple.) Friday morning is still free. I can have 9.00 or 9.50.
"I don't do mornings."
"We don't do afternoons."
"9.50 please. I shall set every alarm clock in the house."
"Please ring if you have any problems."
I had also arranged to get to Sandy's house at 1.50 for lunch, and I had an appointment with my GP at four-ish. It's going to be a busy day!
Miraculously I managed to be up and out at crack of dawn, slid into a very nice parking space at 9.45 (so there are advantages to getting out early!), and got to the clinic at 9.50. I seem to have been spending a lot of time there recently, and the man on the reception desk recognised me.
"What are you doing here?"
"I've got an appointment, at 9.50."
"You're not on my list."
"I rang up on Tuesday morning and made an appointment."
He keyed in my hospital number. Nothing showed up.
"Am I in the right place? First time at anti-coagulant clinic?"
"Yes, you're in the right place. I'll see what I can find."
He made a few phone calls, most of them to answering machines. Somebody strutted past, saying in a stage whisper:
"She'll be lucky, if she hasn't got an appointment."
Later on, someone told him that one of the people he rang before is trying to contact him, but can't, because he's on the phone...
At last, they discovered my referral letter from the consultant, I have no idea where they found it, but obviously in a Safe Place, and they accepted that I probably did have an appointment. "It just hasn't been written in, that's all." Oh well that's all right then. No explanation, no apology for letting me sit around like a lemon for an hour with nobody talking to me - just "these things happen."
At 10.50, hallelujah, I was called for a blood test.
I have a lunch date, and I'll make it if I can leave here by 1.30.
Q Do you think I'll be finished by then?
So I texted Sandy to tell her I didn't see myself being out in time, and probably the most sensible thing to do would be to cancel.
What's supposed to happen is that my blood is tested for clotting time - that takes about 45 minutes, but that doesn't mean that they will get the answer in 45 minutes - and then I have to go for Education. My clotting time is 1, which is nice and healthy, but they want to get it up to 2 or 3: and Education means going through a list of points from a printed page to make sure I understand them all.
"Do you understand why you're here?"
"I've been referred for Warfarin therapy in preparation for cardioversion at Papworth in about six weeks."
"Are you having cardioversion or ablation?"
"I've been told cardioversion. Nobody mentioned ablation. Are they the same thing?"
"In that case I'm not having ablation. I'm having cardioversion."
We got to the end of the list, and she gave me a prescription for 4mg a day, to be made up in the hospital pharmacy. At 1.30 I had my pills, at 1.35 I was in the car, and at 1.50 I had parked in my drive and knocked on Sandy's door. She hadn't read my text, so she didn't know I wasn't coming! We had lunch and chatted, and a jolly nice lunch it was too.
I spent some time with the practice nurse and then the GP, who gave me prescriptions for two things - one I was running out of, and one for something new. Sandy had bought something faulty from Tesco, I offered to take it back for her, and I also wanted to buy a fan heater from their catalogue shop. I can do those things, and get some shopping, and get the prescription made up there too.
First call, customer service to show them the faulty purchase. I was offered a refund and was happy to accept. Quick and painless.
Second call: in-store pharmacy. It's 5.40.
"It'll be about an hour."
"We're incredibly busy. Next week is half-term, and that has a knock-on effect on everything. It'll be ready at 6.40."
I don't understand why impending school holidays should have such a drastic effect on the pharmacy or anything else, but I'm here now and I agreed to wait. I can shop slowly. It's a long wait, the longest I've ever known, but at least I'll have it all done.
"If you know that school holidays will slow everything down, can it not be planned for?"
"We don't make the decisions. If we did, believe me, we would double the staff."
I got the fan heater I wanted, and lots of food, and went back to the pharmacy at 6.40.
"It's just being checked now. It won't be long."
"I was told that it would be ready at 6.40."
"It won't be long."
The woman I got talking to - all right, muttering darkly - had waited an hour for a prescription for her grandson, her daughter's first child. He's four months old and just left hospital today: and she has a 13-mile drive home. Someone said that mine was next, but ten minutes later she was called over to the counter. Not to get the prescription, but to be told that there was a query. At last, she got a tiny bottle with a label on it, and left.
At seven o'clock, I was given a small bag.
"There's just one small problem. We didn't have one of the items."
At which point I exploded, took the bag, threw it in my trolley, and said - rather loudly -
"So I've waited an hour and twenty minutes and you still haven't managed to do the complete job? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I wasn't told."
"OK, let me rephrase. Why couldn't you COLLECTIVELY have told me that you could only do half a job?"
She handed me the other prescription and said I was welcome to go elsewhere for it. Two dispensing staff were standing at the back, gawping silently.
"We're working as quickly as we can... and ... I don't appreciate being shouted at."
I wasn't shouting at her. I was exploding. There is a difference, but I didn't bother telling her that. I just said:
"And I don't appreciate standing around for an hour and twenty minutes just to be told that you can't finish the job."
"Thank. You. For. What. You've. Done."
And I steamed to the nearest till.
I wonder if she genuinely thought there was a cat in hell's chance that I'd leave the other prescription with them? Ha!
Reply #1611. Oct 22 10, 2:53 PM
How awful! I'll tell what I've done at Wal-Mart...Just leave the over full cart and everything else--Except the prescription, of course! Let them put it back.|
Reply #1612. Oct 22 10, 4:54 PM
|It's a lovely thought, and there was £50 of food I hadn't actually paid for at the time - but I would only have had to go and get it all again; probably in Sainsburys! argh! |
The only way it could have been worse would have been if both items had been on the same prescription form, and then they would have "insisted" on keeping the form, and I would have "insisted" on their un-prescribing the other item and giving me the form back. Either way I have to take it somewhere (else) to be made up. Whatever happens, these buggers have won. Or we've lost. We can't win. *sob*
I can ring Tesco HO and tell them I will never use their pharmacy ever again, but there's not much I can do about the hospital. :(
Reply #1613. Oct 22 10, 6:03 PM
I know, I know...I only did it the one time, because I was REALLY peeved. Stomping out of the store very rarely helps in the end. Sometimes it makes you feel better for a minute, then, as you say...You go shopping again! UGH! It's a no win.|
Reply #1614. Oct 22 10, 9:00 PM
Oh dear Lesley............reminds me of the "Have a Nice Dayeeeee", that migrated I believe from across the "pond"!|
Your hospital saga..........joys of NHS? I reckon we have all more or less "been there, got the 'T' shirt and seen the video"!
Like...........going back to Doctor, 2 weeks after having Blood Test, to be told:-
Doctor........."Strange, your results are not in. Did you go for a Blood Test"?
Me............."Yes, had one of the......", whatever date.
Doctor........."One moment".......picks up phone. "I did...yes....me....Southport......WHAT?..........I don't believe this......YOU WHAT? Well READ me what they say then". Puts phone down....gives an exasperated sigh. "Thank you"!
Turns to me.
"I have just spoken to the clinic, they sent your results to Doctor McDONALD at Ormskirk, by mistake".
Looked at my face and continued, "Yes..neither do I. Anyway the test was negative".
HER name, written clearly on the form requesting Blood Test for me, is O'DONNELL!
Minor to your tale of events Lesley......but another "We have lost your......." scenario. NHS strikes again!
I guess too, we have all done the "leave trolley and stomp out of store with a "monk" on, routine. However as has been said, then you have to go shopping again so is definitely a "no win" thing, but when we reach "boiling point" we do not consider such draw backs do we?
I have always maintained, "I am an Astrological 'Fire' sign, do not expect me to be calm and placid" and "Patience is a virtue that I have in very small quantities".
However some things occur during the daily grind, that would try the patience of a Saint........and I am light years from coming under that classification!
My latest gripe, over a Supermarket, beginning with the letter 'T', who's pharmacy does not impress me, either, is that one of the items I regularly buy as "CinC (Home)" is vegetarian, are a well known brand of "Veggie Sausages".
For 3 weeks, they proudly proclaimed, "Price cut...£1".....for 3 weeks, empty shelf. So I filled in one of their little "How did we do"?, chits, and suggested that if they were going to advertise that they had cut the price of a product, it might be a good idea to actually stock said item, and over 3 weeks of empty shelf exceeded "temporarily" out of stock.
This week, joy of joys, wonder of wonders, happiness unbounded..........shelf was brimming over with them........were they still "on offer"? What do you think?
Verily my complaints "drip tray" (as we said in the navy) is overflowing!
Have a nice Dayeeeeeee.
Reply #1615. Oct 23 10, 2:07 AM
God Lesley thats bad, I have been feeling quite low last week or so. Partly due to the itching and worried about the cuts.|
Was at Doctors yesterday and tablets i was put on for itching a anti depressant my fav doc has doubled the dose.
Have been told not to worry to much but easier said then done.
I hope you are feeling better and that things get sorted re tesco chesmist, I was amazed at my chemist yesterday so quick mind you was nearing lunch time so maybe did not want a back log.
Reply #1616. Oct 23 10, 6:02 AM
I am very meek and won't say any thing when I am told it is going to be a while before my prescriptions are ready. My husband is another story, they trip over themselves trying to get everything out in the shortest time. It has taken a while for them to get used to him. Love him.|
Reply #1617. Oct 23 10, 10:43 AM
|About thirty years ago, I unloaded some impulse food shopping on the conveyor belt leading to the till, and abandoned it because of the astonishing rudeness of the cashier. I wasn't fuming angry with steam coming out of ears, and my pulse rate didn't shoot up. I just thought "I don't need this" - neither the rudeness nor the shopping - and I'm not going to demand to see a manager because I'll be waiting for ever, so I'll let her worry about getting a supervisor to put everything back, and I'll let her deal with the gathering queue. The people in the queue were starting to snort and paw the ground, even if I wasn't! But I probably wouldn't have done it if it had included anything I couldn't do without. |
Today I rang the Tesco Customer Services line to ask what effect impending school holidays might have on any part of their operations. The woman who answered the phone didn't understand either. We decided to agree that it was nonsense.
I also told her what had happened at the pharmacy. She gasped. She said the longest she had ever waited for a prescription was 45 minutes, and that's quite long enough for anyone.
I've handed prescriptions over to someone who has glanced at the items, said yes we've got all those in stock, and it'll be about x minutes. Not an hour and twenty minutes before anyone bothers to tell me that they can only do one out of two. She gasped at that too.
At the end of the phone call, she said she would tell relevant people what had happened, said I was remarkably calm considering and - best of all - that I'd been a pleasure to talk to! Of course it helps if your audience sounds appreciative and sympathetic. Sorry now that I didn't tell her that.
Joy of NHS indeed. Until a few years ago, I was still going to Bedford Cardiology for yearly check-ups from my first heart surgery. Shame that stopped, really. I would have an ECG and an echo, then talk to the consultant or a registrar, and go home for another year. I shan't take my appointment letter with me... no need.
"Why are you here?"
"I've got an appointment, for a routine check-up."
"No you haven't."
"Yes I have. It's my MOT. ECG, echo, talk to a cardiologist. Today. Two o'clock. The letter's at home."
"No record of it here. We'll try and squeeze you in, but be prepared for a wait. We don't want to put other people's noses out of joint. They've. Got. Appointments."
Of course the worst place to tell people how you really feel is Cardiology!
At the end of one school year when Jonathan was little, he emerged from school, waving the envelope which contained his end-of-year school report. I ripped it open and started reading. They're pleased with his progress. He's starting to do this... getting the hang of that... that's odd - these are things he's handled proficiently for years, so how is he just beginning to be able to do them? and why are they all calling him Craig?
But I've never ever had my medical results sent to the wrong person!
... at least, not as far as I know.
What's it like being an omnivore living with a vegetarian? Wouldn't it just be easier to join her and turn veggie? And why are buyers incapable of estimating the extra sales that will result when something is on offer? There is never ever enough stock to support a good promotion.
Judy, how does he do it? I have never known a dispensing chemist give anyone priority. Even when I took a diminutive sprog with earache, and they said half an hour, or after lunch... but he's in pain. And he's in pain now. Sorry, we have our own ways of doing things, and they don't include giving a flying fig about sick children. (That was the same chemist I stopped using after they'd made the same mistake on six consecutive prescriptions.)
I reckon a big chunk of my heating bill goes to heating the loft, which is big and has never been insulated. Someone came to look at it a few weeks ago to arrange insulation, and he commented on the enormous wasps' nest. Oh that's ancient, long dead. Although I did see a wasp clinging to the underside of the window frame a few days ago, when I opened the window at the top of the stairs. I flicked it out, and forgot about it. Shame on me. :(
About twenty years ago, we asked the local council pest control to get rid of a wasps' nest. They killed it and we gave them about £30 and everyone was happy.
Jonathan had a look round the loft the other day, because it'll need to be cleared for the people doing the insulation. Today he asked me if I wanted to look - I've never been in the loft - and I said yes (how exciting), and his girlfriend said yes too. I think she's been in there before. It's only me who hasn't. They went up first and he said the nest was crawling, but he couldn't tell what it was crawling with. Looked like flies.
They went upstairs again, and came down screaming. Whatever the nest was, it wasn't dead. It had probably been disturbed once too many, and was now buzzing. Wasps were crawling over it, and wasps were streaming out of it. He closed the hatch and we had a group hug - downstairs.
They didn't want to go upstairs again, let alone spend a night here, till the wasps were gone. I wasn't that keen on waiting till Monday either. I'd have gone with them! I rang the council out-of-hours emergency service. I think they still provide a pest control service, but not at weekends. Weekend services means emergencies means life-threatening. It didn't occur to me to say that my son is allergic to wasps, although it might not have made any difference to them.
Plan B - phone private pest control firms for availability and prices.
The most outrageous one wanted something like £130 plus VAT (17.5%) call-out charge, and another £50 + VAT if they found a nest. What did they mean - IF they found a nest? Who would be prepared to pay such a ridiculous price if they weren't even sure they had a nest? Argh!
The best one was £40 all-in. They said they would be with us within the hour, and they were. A young woman walked up the path carrying a clipboard and smiling. A young man followed her carrying a big squirty container, and what looked like safety clothing. They went upstairs, stayed for a while, came down and said they'd filled the nest up with insecticide, and the wasps would all be dead within two hours. She'd also zapped a few she'd spotted flying around the top hall.
Any recurrence within seven days and they would come back and re-treat for nothing. I'm thinking of asking them to come back anyway. I'd happily pay them the same again to check the nest and take it away.
More importantly, I am delighted that Jonathan found them. I wonder how many people are so desperate and frightened that they would willingly let themselves in for a potential bill of more than £200 for the same thing? Exploitation or what?
Would we like one of their cards? Yes please, for us and for anyone else who asks us. But I had to hide them because they have pictures of wasps on both sides. *shudder* Wasps or pictues of wasps have the same effect on Jonathan as spiders or pictures of spiders have on everyone else. I could never understand why his peers ridiculed his wariness of wasps, nasty violent things, flying around with a built-in dagger, but would run screaming from a sweet little spider with gnashing teeth and hobnail boots.
Reply #1618. Oct 23 10, 3:14 PM
Lesley i think British gas have a good deal on loft insulation till end of OCtober.|
Reply #1619. Oct 24 10, 7:58 AM
|Thanks, Gary, but I've already arranged everything. |
Reply #1620. Oct 24 10, 9:57 AM
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