Tuesday 23 July 2013

I should be happy but the good news is tainted

Finally got to the hospital after my clinic was cancelled a couple of weeks ago and got the next available appointment to see my consultant which was yesterday, a Monday rather than a Thursday.  My uni clinic module leader allowed me to miss the morning of clinic so I could go to the hospital as uni clinic is on a Monday.  So I arrive at 9.15 (joyous) and not long after I'm called for my blood test.  The (stupid fucking incompetent) nurse who (attempted) to do my bloods sat me down and said, 'oh, you have very little veins' whilst prodding my right arm that I didn't have ready on the arm of the chair.  So I said that the other arm is usually fine and showed her the vein that is used.  She put the needle in and didn't attach the tube properly to collect the blood so air travelled up the plastic tube.  Great.  The vein then stopped working.  I began to not feel great.  She then put a new needle into the back of my right hand.  By this point I was sweating, my vision was going and I thought I was going to throw up.  Did she notice me cradling my head with my other hand?   No.  So I told her to remove the needle and got outside as quickly as possible before I either passed out, threw up or both.  Luckily the main door to the clinic was close and there is a bench outside, so I sat on that breathing deeply, trying to feel normal with blood running down my hand.  Did she follow me immediately to check I was ok?  No.  Was it only when I went back inside that she noticed me?  Yes.  Then another nurse who is great and never has a problem with my apparently small and terrifying veins inserted the needle and got all the blood needed first time with me upright and feeling fine.  As the day wore on the bruising by the first nurse got worse so I couldn't have my hand below my waist because it hurt too much.  I had to walk around like it was in a sling.  The first vein she went into is in the crook of my arm and wasn't so bruised and swollen, but I couldn't fully extend my arm.  So that was FUN.

My consultant.................................WASN'T FUCKING THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I was furious.  Luckily my pa was with me, so he spoke to the consultant who saw me as I sat there crying.  It was only 10.30 in the morning.  I told the consultant I had been promised the start of a trial and my father could back me up as he was with me at my last appointment.  Apparently it still hasn't been signed off.  I explained that I was sick of the hospital not understanding that this is my life and at 28 I should not be constantly restricted with what I can do and having to cancel plans all the time etc  After a while of chat, mainly between the consultant and my pa he agreed to drop my dosage by half and to see what happened.  He did the whole 'it might not have any impact' etc etc etc, but at least he is willing to give it a go.  Probably means I can't go in the trial if and when it takes off, but maybe as things, fingers and toes crossed, improve, they will become more open to trying me off the meds not too far down the line.  By him doing this, I also suspect that my consultant could have done this as well but didn’t because of her trial.

I'm debating about formally complaining about my possibly now ex consultant, I don't think I'll be seeing her again.  Or maybe just write her a letter explaining everything and at least that might get acknowledged unlike the millions of emails I've sent in the past and messages I've left with her PA.

So it should be happy news and, well to be honest, I don't feel like it is.  I feel let down and like a hospital number to my potentially ex consultant, not like the person that I am who has been under her 'care' for the last 6 years.

Due to lower dose, back in 6 weeks, so will tell you more then.

Lots of love, laughter and smiles, although, I'm not going to lie, that wasn't me yesterday it was more tears, fury and hate,

XXX

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