The NHS today...

The NHS changes have come into affect today and so all newspapers have been slating the Service and even pronouncing it “murdered.” I understand they want the largest amount of views they can and so have to resort to shock-tactics but does anyone actually consider what articles like this do to the NHS. As a public institution, the Service relies on public perception and opinion; if the public lose faith, the NHS will suffer as a result. This is even alluded to in articles, with one even quoting Bevan’s words:

“The NHS will last as long as there are folk left with the faith to fight for it”

Exactly.

This quote sums up the exact opposite of what the media are currently fueling.

I know as a (reluctantly frequent) patient that the NHS needs change. Many aspects of it simply do not function and they need restructuring – I welcome change, and have already seen some improvements in my local hospital. I have faith in the NHS, and I will fight for it.

What do these journalists base their ‘facts’ on? They over-politicize their articles, desperately trying to win over the reader by tapping a nerve and sparking a “oh I’m not really sure about these Tories and look! Look at what they’re doing to the NHS – it says here that the NHS is dead.” The NHS to me should be viewed somewhat separate to party politics – all party’s approach the NHS with the same tact anyway, don’t forget there were 9 reorganisations under the previous Labour governments. Whether these particular reforms are right or wrong is not my problem today, it is this constant negativity from the media and how easily it is lapped up by the public.

Because you know what? The NHS isn’t dead. It will still be running tomorrow just as it is today and around 1.5 million people will be treated. I wonder how many of those treated tomorrow will have read these articles, perhaps even agreed with them and yet, will still go to the GP, dentist, outpatient appointment, hip replacement etc etc without one flicker of gratitude crossing their minds.

I know that other patients feel the same as me, and many surveys confirm this showing patient satisfaction with the NHS is consistently much higher than public satisfaction. Taking the NHS for granted, constantly complaining about it yet still expecting it to be there to pick up the pieces, that is what is destroying the NHS.

Where are you getting your opinion? 

My new scar

My operation was just ten days ago but today I had the stitches taken off!  The district nurse first came on Monday to change the dressings - I have two as the scar is longer than their longest dressing! They use just paper strips as stitches, butterfly stitches; the same as you probably had at some point in your childhood after some playground accident or other.  It's the weirdest feeling having them removed and I have to admit it made me feel really unwell - there were so many of them too that it took quite some time! All is looking incredibly neat already though and I can take the dressing off for good in a couple of days.   It is even longer than it was before, but I am even more proud of it :)

 

One week on from surgery with paper stitches still on

New scar 

I am home!

I failed to mention in the last blogpost that I was writing from home!  Amazingly I was discharged from hospital on Thursday evening as I had completed the checklist of 'milestones to achieve before discharge'.   As you can see I did most of the checklist on Thursday itself; it's incredible how quickly everything comes together once you manage to sit and stand.

I was also just so determined to get home.  I was struggling to sleep in hospital and was not having a good experience with the nurses, all of which will be elaborated on in my next blogpost.

I had only managed to sit for more than 10 seconds for the first time on Thursday, let alone stand, walk or manage the stairs, so the journey home was certainly a challenge.  I live about 25 miles from the hospital and some of the journey is bumpy country roads so I had to keep taking deep breaths and thinking of my own bed!

Thank you to everyone who has contacted me to wish me luck for the operation and recovery; it's amazing to have so much support x

The lead up to the operation

Everybody having an operation the same day as your admission has to arrive at 7am regardless of what time the surgery will be. This is so that you can meet your anaesthetist and see you surgeon before they start their days work. You also have to arrive early so that they can finalise the list for theatre, and to secure your time slot.

Failure to arrive on time could result in the cancellation of your surgery and so, ever the panickers, we arrived at the hospital at about 6.40am. The doors to Ward A are automatic and programmed to open at 7am and not one minute earlier so there were a number of people milling about in the main entrance, a short distance from the ward. Oddly we then found ourselves queuing up outside the door like we were vying for a good spot at a concert. This feeling was zapped as soon as the doors swung open, we traipsed inside and were assigned our beds.

When I had my surgery three years ago, it was the sight of the hospital bed which set off my tears so I had prayed I could stay strong this time, and not add to the stress of my poor parents.  I was taken to Room 8, bed B, and kept my calm. In fact, I found that everything that morning just filled me with more excitement; this was finally it.

The lady in bed A was very quiet and very nervous. The Prof was her surgeon also and so I heard that she was having her coccyx removed! He began explaining that the coccyx was named by the Greeks after it's similar appearance to a cuckoo beak... Perhaps he was just talking to try and calm her but when he then said “well it does when you get in there anyway” it made her go quite pale. 

Due to my possibility of infection, I was last on the list. They didn't tell me how many were before, just that I was last on the list. I couldn't believe it. But then it also made perfect sense, and I knew I should have seen it coming. They couldn't risk having the infected metal in the theatre when another operation was yet to come.  

This was the most sensible thinking the surgeons had so far shown that morning...

The first thing The Prof said to me was “now remind me, did we decide to take all the metal out or just part of it?” I really hope he was joking but he still wrote a little reminder to himself on my back for when I wasn't awake to tell him!

"Removal of metal"

When a spinal registrar came to see me and also asked what I was having done, I have to admit I felt a little bit anxious. Can you imagine how this made Mum feel!? He added two arrows to the graffiti on my back so they knew, his words not mine,  “where to operate”...

My anaesthetist was a much more collected and reassuring figure. I asked him roughly what time I could expect to be going into theatre and he said early afternoon, between 12 and 1 o'clock.

At least 6 hours to wait.

   

Time actually went pretty quickly and there were visits from nurses and forms to fill in. I was brought a hospital gown and paper knickers, and measured and fitted with the long socks you have to wear while bed-bound to prevent thrombosis.

I was going to wait until 12ish to put on this fetching outfit but then a porter arrived at 11.40am to take me down to theatre! It was quick change, hug from my parents and then I was whisked away.

I passed The Prof dressed in his scrubs with a funny little hat on and it struck me how this is his day job, something he does every week. He really is so clever, even if part-mad-professor too. I was wheeled down to operating theatre 3 and passed lots of people who all smiled and wished me well. I heard a chap call to The Prof that he was going to grab a sandwich before they start, and The Prof say he wasn't need for about half an hour. All weird things to remember, I know, but all things which highlighted how normal this was for them and helped a little with my nerves.

Though obviously not too much as my heart was beating very fast and, despite my remaining calm on the outside, gave me away when they began attaching all the wires and heart monitor in the anaesthetic room.  My anaesthetist got me to hold my hand over the edge of the bed to try and get the vein up; it was nervous too and trying to hide. Once the needle was in they injected something to relax me and I remember going all funny and feeling like I was floating. When I tried to speak to tell them I understood they were about to give the anaesthetic I couldn't speak properly and then that was it, I was gone...

...and I woke up in Intensive Care after a three hour op with a completely metal-free spine.   

Preparing for hospital

I can't believe I am finally this close; emotions are intense.

I got as much as I could done before today to give me as relaxing a day as possible.  My clothes that I will take tomorrow are freshly washed (even if they were already clean), my toiletries bag is packed and my room is tidied.  All I really have to do today is pack my clothes into a bag and I am all set!

The scrub and nasal cream,
plus a couple of good luck
cards :)

Today I am having to use the antibacterial scrub and antibacterial nasal cream that I was given at my pre-operative assessment.  These contain chlorhexidine which kills microbes, even the MRSA bug Staphylococcus aureus.   I have been given detailed instructions on how to use these and it's all pretty straightforward.  It is making tomorrow feel much more real;  I can already smell hospital.

I was preparing to phone the hospital about half an hour ago and then they rang me!  I really started to panic they were phoning to cancel or something similarly awful, but no, they were ringing to tell me to report to Ward A, 7am.  I don't know what time I will be in theatre but as I will have to meet my anaesthetist, see The Prof etc etc it could be some wait.  I am nil by mouth after midnight, and allowed half a cup of water for breakfast so let's hope the wait isn't too long!

I will be keeping this blog up to date as much as possible with what is happening so keep checking back if you would like.

            Wish me luck!

London 2012 Opening Ceremony

I just had to do a post about the London 2012 Opening Ceremony last night - I am still buzzing from just how good it was!  I may be a teeny bit biased but what a show, and so British.  Through scenes of organised chaos it told our country's story to a backdrop of our musical talent... and humour.  The scene with the Queen and James Bond was absolute genius and showed all those who believe the Monarchy to be stuffy and out of date just how wrong they are.

For me in particular though,  it was the homage to the NHS, and the inclusion of our nurses and Great Ormond Street Hospital patients, that made me practically burst with pride.  The NHS is something all we Brits should be immensely proud of.  As someone who has had lots of dealings with the NHS, and will be back in hospital in two days time,  I will never be able to stress enough how grateful I am to this institution.  Free health care at point of access. We all need to realise just how lucky we are and I am so happy it got such a tribute last night -  it makes me proud to be British.

A week today...

... my second operation will be over.

It is constantly in my thoughts to the point that I woke this morning at 5.30am, and then 7am on the dot. I will have to get up at 5.30am next week and I am due at hospital at 7am. How is my body clock so fine tuned to wake me up at these exact times? Are my thoughts never switched off?

I'm obviously nervous, but I'm also just anxious for it to be over so that my next treatment can be decided.  As soon as the infection is treated I should finally start feeling better. Healthy.

Removing metal work is an unpredictable operation; until they begin unscrewing each screw the surgeons don't know how it will go.  Some may be easy to remove, others not so -  I just pray mine are all fine.  I have complete trust in the surgeons and the Bone Infection Unit physicians who will take over my care once the operation is finished and so, my nerves are not really related to how the operation itself will go; I am nervous that they somehow won't find infection.  If they don't,  I am back to square one.

I know that this is extremely unlikely but, as there is still a chance I can't seem to stop myself dwelling on it.  They won't know until they operate and take the samples as I explained in my post How the infection is being treated .

While this worry has been getting me down, I have also now channelled my thinking into how the operation is a positive thing, regardless of the outcome.  From the CT scan of my thoracic spine the surgeons know that I have screws very close to, or maybe interfering with, nerves.  Having these screws removed will greatly improve my pain, and will mean that, hopefully, I can stop taking the neuropathic painkillers.  As amazing as these tablets have been over the past couple of months, taking them has been no walk in the park and I will also be glad to not have to remember to take them three times a day!

All in all, this week cannot go quick enough and I am looking forward to finishing this stage of 'operation: get better' so that I can move on to the next...