Back in the Land of the Living.

    At home again, painful but relieved. Knee 'redone', not very mobile, more physio imminent. A short post, a view from a NHS bedside, so to speak. Forgive the disorganised approach, have not really got over what was a traumatic but interesting experience.

    Epidurals, particularly interesting, noise, hammering etc still reminiscent of a building site. Queues of patients on trollies waiting for surgery on a Tuesday morning mind boggling. Where would we be without the NHS. Will it survive I wonder. I moved wards rapidly, not sure why. (I was in the Derby Royal Hospital eight days.)  I was the youngest patient in one ward at 74 years of age!) Food, ok but not really to my taste. (Pun unintended.) Not the hospital's fault. Lost ten pounds this time! It is an existence where meals are proffered at frequent intervals, seemingly the most important events of a hospital day. Plus medication, injections, and very, very frequent health checks day and night. What is it they say, no peace for the wicked. Long, long days, sleep difficult; some dark days indeed. But made easier by NHS staff of whom I have great regard and admiration. From the people serving the tea to the surgeon knocking hell out of my knee, I salute you all. 

All is not perfect. I consider a twelve and a half hour shift as the norm for nurses ridiculous and, I suspect in some cases, dangerous. Did I correctly detect a problem of low morale in some staff. Plus from a patients point of view at times there is an overwhelming feeling that you have lost control of your very existence. The discharge system is very, very complicated and a cause of some stress. (I suggested to one 'senior' nurse that a hug would not be out of place particularly where elderly patients were concerned. Evidently  'hugs' do not feature in the modern hospital world; a pity.) Nevertheless the overwhelming impression was of  individuals who 'care'.

    In the wards where I stayed there was neither television or radio available; how strange. Thank goodness for my good friend morphine. I spent many happy moments hallucinating; much better than television. The puppet show provided by the man in the opposite bed was a welcome distraction. ( Do you see what I see) Am I the only one who sees such surreal images? The power of modern drugs is truly remarkable. Ah, happy days!