15 - The A to Z of wards

"..  moved wards once more.."

I was moved wards once more after the transfer between surgeons. By this time I was seriously gathering material for an A to Z reference book on both hospitals, wards and service! Having seen 6 wards and 2 hospitals already in my stay, from Critical Care, HDU, Trauma and Colorectal wards, I was meeting many people, nurses, doctors, surgeons, students and patients.

It seemed my case was something of a medical student requirement. My surgeons were refering ward students to sit with me and learn the severity of my injuries from a patient point of view. Oddly, I found great solace in retelling my story thus far to students. They would sit with me for great lengths of time, scribbling their notes and comprehending the emotional trauma I had experienced.

".. visible dye needed to be pushed into my bowel.."

The time came for me to be taken to theatres for the surgeon to remove my stomach abcesses. Prior to this, I was taken to x-ray for a detailed analysis. They needed to see exactly what they were dealing with and, to do this, visible dye needed to be pushed into my bowel and into the abcess pockets. My ilieostomy pouch was removed and a tube was inserted into it, pumping the dye through while the scan took place.

All the time I was thinking, imagining, what the driver of the other vehicle was feeling. He was lucky enough that his irresponsible driving behaviour did not injure him in any way and, within days of the collision many months before, he was probably back at work and earning his wage.

The scan completed, my operation took place. The effects of the general anaesthetic wore off and I was taken back to the ward. The hip abcesses, my surgeon advised, were too difficult to deal with at this stage, for the fistulation track apparently was intertwined over my hip bone and not easily resolved. That had to be left for the time being.

".. keeping the nurses on their toes.."

It was now a month wait until my knee was rebuilt by my Trauma and Orthopaedic consultant. During those waiting days, my sense of humour kept me sane. The ward had residing there, a rather scatty brained individual who was famed for his antics in keeping the nurses on their toes. I heard stories that, during the night, he had gotten into bed with other patients claiming they were in his bed, taken some of their possessions with a similar excuse, and found in the bathroom with his face covered in shaving cream while running his finger down his face in a shaving action. His absent mindedness was a breath of fresh air! On many occasions he walked an invisible dog around the ward and could be heard talking to it, not to leave out when he didn't want to be there anymore and simply walked out the doors. I remember one day, one of the healthcare assistants had to run down the main road outside the hospital entrance to catch him before he reached the next town!

He and I got on well, in that I was his visual reminder he had another two rooms to walk around the ward before he reached his own bed. I would be watching a DVD on a portable player when he would poke his head around the door, look at me and say, "Still another room to go!"

".. the comode, and the aroma of ... well, you get the idea"

Breakfast in a colorectal ward was an interesting challenge to. By the very nature of the ward, people had bowel issues and, those with mobility issues, had to use the comode to service a vital function. One big drawback with this was that those bodily necessities occured at mealtimes and, one such memory of mine was trying to eat breakfast, the next door bed curtain drawn around the seated patient on the comode, and the aroma of ... well, you get the idea .... drifting through the curtain while I am trying to eat but 2 feet away.

Thankfully, smells aside, my time had come to be moved to the Elective Surgery ward for my knee reconstruction. It was now November 2010, some 7 months after the collision.