Geoff's Medical Bulletin (July 15, 2011), Written by Geoffrey N. Read. This is written from the patient's point of view. A great read!

1. GEOFF’S LATEST MEDICAL BULLETIN
Friday, 15th July 2011
I was admitted to Derriford Hospital at 12 noon on Tuesday, 6th July 2011 via
the Freedom Ward. I was there for five hours as I didn’t get into theatre until
well past five. This seems to be the normal run of things these days and I have
had a similar wait at each of my previous eleven operations over the past two
years! Some patients upped-sticks and left quite miffed! One had a dog to
see too. Another had an infirm wife to see to at home who might need her
bed pan!
Another major concern, particularly to carers or relatives accompany patients is
that of parking. They don’t realise they have wait all this number of hours.
Not informed apparently!
In all my 12 (now 13) operations over the past couple of years, it has never
once been explained to me that there may be some time before I go to theatre.
You hand in your Admission Letter and then you are asked to take a seat... they
just don’t tell you it’s you’re going to be rooted to that seat for the next five
hours!
We’re not allowed to eat or drink anything for five hours prior to our admission
times. It’s my theory that the medical staff don’t trust patients to abstain so
they call us in five hour hours prior to our admission time simply to ensure we
don’t! What other reason could there be? This is what they use this time for:
First: You have an administrative interview with a nurse to double-
check all the paperwork made at the pre-operative assessment
undertaken some weeks previous. And to make sure that there
have been no changes to our circumstances, our medication
and really to make sure that we are still alive and kicking! Oh...
then they put an identity bracelet on your wrist. I’m sure this is
wired in case you try to escape!
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2. Second: An interview with the anaesthetist. This is usually jolly and
friendly and we both know that we are wasting each other’s
time... but it’s something that has to be done. We are both doing
our best to put each other at ease! It’s pretty scary for them too I
guess! Everything is double-checked again for the umpteenth
time.
Third: An interview with the Surgical Consultant. This is usually a fairly
relaxed affair with both of us trying our damndest to show each
other how cool and relaxed we both are about everything. You
are asked to sign the Consent Form. This is his escape clause in
case he leaves a tin of Frey Bentos Corned Beef inside you, or a
copy of his Surgical Encyclopaedia or whatever.
After you’ve signed your life away (quite literally) the inevitable
question is always thrown at you...”Oh by the way... I did explain
about the risks of perforations and that sort of thing didn’t I?”
Still wanting to display just how cool you are you nod
enthusiastically that of course he did! Whilst inwardly you are
thinking... Perforations? Bloody hell... I bet he leaves his bloody
teabag inside me!
Five hours?
Each of these interviews are conducted when we at least expect them. And
usually its usually just as we are about to doze off or just after we have! I’m
wondering if they have CCTV in operation and simply wait until they see you
head droop and your eyes close. Then it’s Go! Go! Go! He’s about to sleep!
Five hours?
The television set in Freedom Unit needs changing... it doesn’t work! It hasn’t
worked since we changed over from terrestrial to digital apparently... when
was that last year?
Five hours?
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3. The Freedom Unit building looks fairly modern, is clean and fairly freshly
decorated. The chairs are not comfortable. Certainly not comfortable enough
for a five-hour sit! Most are way too low down. Some very elderly patients
had great difficulty in sitting down in them, and of course even greater
difficulty in getting up and out of them! I only saw one or two Higher Chairs
that would have served them better but both were occupied.
Five hours?
Some magazines are strewn around the area. Wow! I am thinking of getting
in touch with Fiona Bruce and asking her to bring down the Antiques Road
Show crew. Some of these magazines must be vintage now. Collector’s
items!
Five hours?
Could commit murder for a cup of tea! Actually there is a cafeteria just outside
the building and around the corner. Not many people know this. Ideal for
people accompanying patients of course but I understand that it closes after
lunch. Not much use to carers whose patients are having afternoon
operations. They will have to go all the way to the Main Hospital Building!
Five hours?
Went for a wee again. Something to do more than anything! Only one loo.
The disabled toilet is out of action!
Five hours?
Books. Oh great... I see some books on the book shelf. They are for sale. An
Honesty Box is available. Put a donation into the tin and buy a book. I hope
the proceeds will be able to buy a Digital TV!
Five hours?
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4. 4.30 p.m. I am called in for Stage Four! This entails taking all my bags and
stuff with me into another Waiting Room. Well... at least its progress! Yet
another administrative interview. Once again, for the 3,872nd time I am asked
for my Date-of-Birth and your Hospital Number. By this time I feel like
screaming it at them and say here... WATCH MY LIPS! Must be good! Must
behave... nearly there. On the last loop!
I’m taken into a cubby-hole and asked to change into this delightful little floral
number. A robe that I have to put on back to front so that my bum hangs out
the back. I then pack away all my clothing and personal stuff into my bag and
place them into an empty locker. Unfortunately there were no keys as they
have all gone walkabouts apparently. But don’t worry... the NHS Hospitals
Trust will accept no responsibility for any loss of valuables during your stay!
I was measured for surgical stockings. Why are you measuring me for
stockings I asked... when I was measured for them at my pre-operative
assessment? We like to do it again here was the reply. The measurements
taken at the pre-op were far more accurately taken than now! Why this
duplication of effort I wonder?
OK... now we sit and wait again. Wished I had taken more time getting
changed now!
Five hours?
The evening cleaners come in. Not much entertainment there... I saw them
empty the bins and then leave. I went to the loo. Again, more for something
to do than anything else. I noticed that the Evening Clean had been signed off
on the back of the door. So the Evening Clean comprises emptying the bins?
Not what I call a “clean” but there you go!
Five hours?
Mr. Read? Mr. Geoffrey Read? Mr. Geoffrey Nigel Read? Bloody hell... only
my mother ever called me that! And then I was usually in trouble! This is it!
My final call. I’m on my way to theatre.
I don’t mind the holding room prior to the theatre. You have to climb up on to
the trolley and have probes stuck all over you and a tube inserted into the back
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5. of your hand. Blood pressure, temperature... usual things. Then they tell me
they are going to slip me something nice into the back of my hand to make me
feel a little woozy! Love it! Then the mask is placed over my stoma... to give
me some oxygen allegedly. Have heard it all before.
.................................
Voices. I can hear voices! But my eyes are still closed and my head is
throbbing. I hear myself saying I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe. I am coming
out of it. Eyes still closed. I hear voices saying to give him some oxygen and
something else and I immediately began to feel better. I could feel that my
throat was quite sore. My eyes began to open and I was beginning to come
around. It was just past six on the clock. The procedure had taken about an
hour. I was given some Oramorph which eased the pain in my neck
considerably. I was told that I would be taken to my old haunting ground of
Lynher Ward as soon as my written notes could be found.
We waited. And then waited some more. Were the previous five hours not
enough? They had to track down the Consultant to ascertain where he had
put the written notes. It transpired that he hadn’t yet written them! Ha!
Anyway, once they were written we were on our way to Lynher.
The hospital leaflet pertaining to Lynher Ward states:
Lynher Ward specialises in Acute Reconstructive Ear, Nose and Throat and
Maxillary Facial Surgery for Adults. We have 34 bed for male and female
patients who are nursed in separate bays.
It seemed to me that every bed available was taken and when I looked at the
patients across from me I could see one had his arm in plaster and the other
two had their legs in plaster. I guess the nurses on this ward have to multi-
task. It’s coming up to 7 p.m. now. It was obvious to me that this is not the
Lynher Ward that I knew of old. The nurses seemed subdued somehow and
hardly made eye contact. An atmosphere certainly different to my previous
visits.
I asked for something to eat and suggested ice-cream, custard or yoghurt or
something similar. Bearing in mind that I had not eaten or had a drink via my
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6. mouth for the past 12 weeks. and that the last feed I had had through the PEG1
in my tummy was the previous night I was somewhat hungry not to mention
thirsty! I wonder if that’s why I woke up with a headache (which I have never
experienced previously)... dehydration?
I was eventually brought two of the most tiniest yoghurts I have ever seen in
my life... one was toffee flavoured and the other apricot. Oh... and a cup of
coffee! My first for 12 weeks! Isn’t it funny how we recall such trivia!
Anyway these four teaspoons-full of sustenance kept me going and I’ll be
forever grateful to the NHS Hospitals Trust. All the time during the past 12
weeks I had been dreaming of Steak Sandwiches and Cappuccinos!
The evening drinks trolley came around at about 9.30 p.m. and I jumped at the
chance of a cup of Horlicks. Not that it would help me sleep... I knew I was in
for a night of being wide awake. There were constant checks of blood-
pressure throughout the night and temperature taking. And the occasional
doses of oramorph thank God!
Luckily I had had the forethought to buy one of those TV Cards that are on sale
in the hospital. I knew that I wouldn’t sleep that night and my supposition
proved to be correct. I watched some documentaries about Egypt and
whatever else was on throughout the night.
I remember getting up throughout the night for a pee only to find that on
arrival at the loo no pee was required... try as one may! This set me to
wondering whether they put “something” in your anaesthetic to prevent one
from having an “accident” during the op! I couldn’t go properly, apart from a
dribble, for a full day afterwards.
I was up, washed and ready for breakfast at the crack of dawn. Before that in
fact! I even made my bed whereupon a nurse mildly rebuked me and said I
wasn’t required to do that.
Breakfast finally arrived at about 8 a.m. Just about the same time as the
doctors of the day begin their ward rounds! So invariably you answer their
questions with mouthful of cereal or, as I had, porridge. Well... I think it was
porridge... it would certainly keep the wallpaper on the wall, whatever it was!
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Percutaneous endoscopic gastrostomy (PEG) tube, a tube that is surgically implanted directly into your stomach, which passes
through a small incision on the surface of your stomach, or abdomen.
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7. All this must make me sound so ungrateful and really I’m not. I am eternally
grateful to the Staff, from head administrator to chief bottle washer. They
saved my life a couple of years ago and I will always be grateful to them all.
.....................................
Time for the morning doctors’ rounds. The dilation of my oesophagus was a
success or so they tell me!
The insertion of the new all-singing, all-dancing valve proved to be a bit of a
disaster as the therapist couldn't get it to fit in! Eventually they gave in as it was
too big to get in! Not surprising really when you consider I have spent the last
12 weeks trying to get the hole healed over!
So I was discharged from hospital on the Wednesday with a catheter in the
hole where my valve should be to help it dilate.
.......................................
I then went to ENT at to Derriford at 8.30 on Friday, 8th July 2011 and the
therapist managed to slide the valve in at the first attempt!
I can at least eat and drink a little and can even talk a little.
Mind you, it is very difficult to swallow as the inside of my throat is VERY sore!
So too are my neck and shoulders. Plenty of rest needed methinks.
GNR
Friday, 15th July 2011
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