A favourite quote and a way by which to approach life.

Today is the tomorrow that you worried about yesterday.

Saturday, 21 January 2012


I'm nine days down the line of admission and I'm progressing well, surprisingly well.  I felt rough with both the asthma and the 'flu at the beginning of the admission, but things have been going okay, and rather amazingly I'm hoping to get home tomorrow!  It's a long while since I had an admission of under a fortnight, so to be getting home on day ten will be really quite something, though I know that I'll have to be sensible and take things easy when I get out of here.  That said, I don't think it's going to be too difficult to take things easy as I'm still very tired, which is probably a combination of the asthma and the 'flu virus.  As you most likely know, I quite often launch myself right back into life with little time for proper rest and recuperation, but this time I'll have to be sure that I do as I'm due back at university a week on Tuesday and it's going to be a heavy semester.  I have two-thirds of a two year MA to do in two-thirds of one academic year...

For all that this admission hasn't been too bad in the scheme of things, it'll be a relief to get home.  I know that I will have to pace myself, and that I will probably keep tiring easily for a while yet, but I'm definitely emotionally ready to get back to my own place.  During the past couple of days I've felt the beginnings of the hodpits lurking within, not in a major way, but enough to feel their niggle every so often.

Yesterday I had a bit of a taster of how exhausting getting back into life this week is going to be as I had an appointment at the RVI for follow-up with the plastic surgeon after my Carpal Tunnel Syndrome op six weeks ago.  Obviously I had to go to the appointment from here, which wasn't as straight forward as it ought to have been as Patient Transport Services (PTS) were pretty rubbish.  My appointment at the RVI was for 9.45am so PTS said I needed to be read for pick up from the ward at the Freeman anytime from 8.15am.  I'm not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination so 8.15am often feels like the middle of the night, especially when I've been poorly.  However, the nurse came and woke me at 7.30am and I was up, washed, dressed, and ready for pick up by 8.15am as requested, but PTS didn't arrive until 9.55am - ten minutes after my appointment at the other hospital.  Thankfully, the nurse here phoned through to the clinic and told them I was going to be late, and said that she'd call them again when I'd left the ward, but I'm not sure that would actually have been an awful lot of use to the clinic as PTS then went and picked up two other patients before finally setting off for the RVI.  They then dropped off one of these other patients before they took me to the clinic I was due at, arriving for my 9.45am appointment at 10.40am!  I was not impressed at all.  However, I was thankful that I was still seen in clinic as they could easily have refused.  In the end I was only in the consulting room with the surgeon for all of five minutes max, during which time he assessed the result of the surgery I've had, was pleased with progress, said I could drive again without problem, and told me I should have the other hand done now.  That'll be within the next six weeks, but last time I was told this I ended up having the op eleven days later, so it could be almost anytime from now.  I know the op needs to be done, so it's better to get it out of the way, I suppose, but I feel a little shell-shocked if I'm honest.  No time for rest or a break from hospitals.  I suspect it's contributed to the hodpits niggles.  I hope I get at least a few days of relative normality at home before I have the surgery...

Now, on a completely different subject, one of the meds I take is a steroid nasal spray.  For some reason (probably financial) the pharmacy here have this time sent up nasal drops instead of a spray.  It's the same medication, just a different method of administering the drug.  The trouble with drops and noses, though, is that drops go down and noses go up, so I was a little perplexed as to how I was supposed to get the drops into my nose.  I came up with the radical idea of reading the patient information leaflet that comes with the drops, and low and behold there were instructions!  Much to my amusement the instructions suggest that the patient stand on their head and then maintain their upside position for at least one minute!  I'm in a room of my own so I haven't been able to see if others have been prescribed these drops, and if so whether or not they're standing on their head, but I haven't been aware of any other patients assuming a general upside down position for at least a minute, although one of the nurses did say that she'd been given these drops recently too and she'd had to get help from some of her colleagues to help her with the upsidedownness.  The blasted nasal drops don't even come with a cushion, which you'd think they ought to if the manufacturers are suggesting those who use them stand on their head.  What's more, I can tell you from experience that assuming an upside down position rather impedes breathing ability ... and then of course there's the POTS, which certainly doesn't agree with being upside down.  I have been rebellious.  Oh, no fear, I've been taking the meds, but I haven't been standing on my head.  No, I've been much more refined and have, instead, been tilting my head all the way back before squeezing the drops into my nose.  It seems to get them far enough back as they drop all the way down into my throat ... which is perhaps a little too far, so maybe they won't be doing the job...  One thing is for sure, I won't be asking my GP to change my regular prescription, but at least the idea of a ward full of folk who can't breathe at the best of times now having to stand on their heads to administer their medication made me smile :o)

Anyone for a nasal drop?


Grumpy Old Ken said...

Cheerful as ever! Soon be spring!

Dawn said...

Hmmm I've had a fair few hospital admissions, and spent time working in hospitals, and funnily enough, I've never seen a patient standing on their head inserting nasal drops! Haha how ridiculous!!
I'm very glad to hear that you're feeling better. I hope you're back home and taking it easy :)
Hugs, Dawn x

BeckyG said...

Thanks for your comments Ken and Dawn :o)

Dawn, you can't believe how terribly surprised I am that you've never seen a wardful of patients standing on their heads to administer nasal drops. Astonishing! ;oP

Ken, there's almost always something to be cheery about, even if that's just a momentary glimpse of the sun on an otherwise dreek day. Pleasure in the small things :o)

Becky x