4th June 2007
By the morning my ache hadn’t gone away and was actually keeping me restless at night I was also feeling nauseous so I went to hospital as advised. I was there by 8am and only one other person was in the waiting room with me. I did the usual pee sample and was taken through to be examined within 10 minutes.
Hint for anyone requiring medical treatment-go Monday morning as no one else is there!
Well the first Dr was awkward when discussing the nature of my pain and my medical history, can’t really blame him. He examined me briefly and then went to find the results of my pee test. Apparently I had large bloods and nitrates in my urine which was indicative of a UTI. I didn’t however have a sense of urgency for urinating or a burning sensation when I relieved myself. The Gynae Dr was then called. The male SHO apparently drew the short straw and impressed by having done some research on my congenital disorder before seeing me. He unfortunately put his foot in it when he asked if I had had the reconstructive surgery (McIndoe procedure I think it’s called) as he didn’t have a clue about the physiotherapy option that is tried first and can be successful. He pretty much blushed when I sat and answered his questions on what this entailed. Who would have thought there was anything that would make a Gynae Dr blush!
Anyways, more physical exams, another pee sample and a blood test later and they decided to admit me for a scan. The blood test came back clear which was apparently good news but they couldn’t rule out either an ovarian cyst or a UTI at this stage. They gave me a canula and a saline drip to keep me hydrated then wheeled me to ward 12.
Lo and behold I was on Bay 1 again, this time facing the bed I had slept in previously where all my angst was borne. Well I was asked to do yet another urine sample (how many do they need and what the hell do they do with them?) and then make sure I urinated in the bedpans in the bathrooms so they could measure my output. I don’t know if this is standard procedure for every ward or just the Gynae ward but it is somewhat embarrassing and also awkward to achieve in practice when you are trying to hold your IV line to stop it from pulling, aim into the pan then hold the pan to throw the tissue down the toilet. And I say all that having had two separate hospital visits where this was practiced.
I still felt sick at lunch time so missed lunch, by this point I had been 24 hours without food. By dinner time the Dr’s had decided to keep me on more painkillers and make me nil by mouth. All night every 15-20 minutes the machine monitoring the woman in the bed next to me would go off, blaring loudly waking all of us up and then be reset by the nurse. By half 5 in the morning the rather large resident of that bed had decided she was in the mood for conversation so was trying to wake the others up. Stubbornly I kept my eyes closed and refused to acknowledge that she had woken me but a couple of the others gave in and seemed to forget that other people might actually want a rest whilst in hospital.
Hint for anyone requiring medical treatment-go Monday morning as no one else is there!
Well the first Dr was awkward when discussing the nature of my pain and my medical history, can’t really blame him. He examined me briefly and then went to find the results of my pee test. Apparently I had large bloods and nitrates in my urine which was indicative of a UTI. I didn’t however have a sense of urgency for urinating or a burning sensation when I relieved myself. The Gynae Dr was then called. The male SHO apparently drew the short straw and impressed by having done some research on my congenital disorder before seeing me. He unfortunately put his foot in it when he asked if I had had the reconstructive surgery (McIndoe procedure I think it’s called) as he didn’t have a clue about the physiotherapy option that is tried first and can be successful. He pretty much blushed when I sat and answered his questions on what this entailed. Who would have thought there was anything that would make a Gynae Dr blush!
Anyways, more physical exams, another pee sample and a blood test later and they decided to admit me for a scan. The blood test came back clear which was apparently good news but they couldn’t rule out either an ovarian cyst or a UTI at this stage. They gave me a canula and a saline drip to keep me hydrated then wheeled me to ward 12.
Lo and behold I was on Bay 1 again, this time facing the bed I had slept in previously where all my angst was borne. Well I was asked to do yet another urine sample (how many do they need and what the hell do they do with them?) and then make sure I urinated in the bedpans in the bathrooms so they could measure my output. I don’t know if this is standard procedure for every ward or just the Gynae ward but it is somewhat embarrassing and also awkward to achieve in practice when you are trying to hold your IV line to stop it from pulling, aim into the pan then hold the pan to throw the tissue down the toilet. And I say all that having had two separate hospital visits where this was practiced.
I still felt sick at lunch time so missed lunch, by this point I had been 24 hours without food. By dinner time the Dr’s had decided to keep me on more painkillers and make me nil by mouth. All night every 15-20 minutes the machine monitoring the woman in the bed next to me would go off, blaring loudly waking all of us up and then be reset by the nurse. By half 5 in the morning the rather large resident of that bed had decided she was in the mood for conversation so was trying to wake the others up. Stubbornly I kept my eyes closed and refused to acknowledge that she had woken me but a couple of the others gave in and seemed to forget that other people might actually want a rest whilst in hospital.
posted by stunted at 2:18 AM
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