Posted in Archive, June 2023

Hospitals & Consent

Over the last few years I’ve not had the best experiences at my local hospital. I’ve gone in incredibly sick and been discharged in a worst state multiple times. It’s got to the point now where I have to know in myself that I can no longer cope at home before I will agree to go.

The other night after spending several hours vomiting uncontrollably, passing blood, and doubled up in pain so severe I was unable to talk through it or focus my partner rang an ambulance. I dislocate multiple times a day and live with organ prolapse, I’m good at handling pain but this was another level of hell.

The ambulance we would end up cancelling as it was several hours away and family could drop me there quicker. I was sat in my chair, throwing up, crying in pain and quite frankly not coping. A few hours into the wait I seized. I don’t remember this. The doctor the next day told me I’d managed to seize out my wheelchair onto the floor, they’d had to scoop me up and get me round to resus.

I can remember throughout the night they attempted multiple times to place a cannula but failed. I desperately needed meds and fluids, and asked for them to use an ultrasound machine and ideally a consultant as my veins are extremely hard to find but also blow very easily due to my Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. This request was ignored and they decided not to administer the fluids or meds I needed. I was there for over 12 hours. Eventually they decided to take blood from an artery by my groin. Again I requested an ultrasound and experienced Dr such as the anaesthetist on call (they are used to my veins and are patient) instead they pressed ahead blindly and painfully.

I’ll delve into this topic another time in more detail but please understand that a disabled person’s medical aids are an extension of themselves. You should never touch them without first gaining consent. While I was in the hospital I had the valve removed from my Cathater. They did not have my consent to do this. They had asked to attach a bag which was fine, I attach bags to the valve all the time. But I would never consent to the removal of the valve as then I would be on free flow which would cause horrific spasms as I have a neurogenic bladder. The valve is the only thing that helps manage these spasms. Yet it was taken off and binned without consent.

I was discharged that morning and handed a few days worth of the same antibiotics I had just finished and sent home. When my partner arrived in resus to collect me the first thing he asked was if I was well enough to go home. I shook my head but said nothing. Within an hour of being home my district nurses were calling another ambulance for me. My temp was 39.5, I couldn’t stop shaking and I was still in agony. There was a four hour wait and with how concerned my team were Damon loaded me back into the car.

This time they listened a bit better. We established that actually my bloods had shown a kidney infection and I needed a completely different set of antibiotics. But was once again sent home. Today I’ve hardly stayed awake. My other half stayed home to look after me and has had to wake me up for my nurses and meds. I’m exhausted, still with the raging temperature and just frustrated.

Posted in Archive, July 2016

Four Years On

Five years ago I was ordering every midwifery textbook and journal listed on my degree reading list; excitedly absorbing every word each page had to offer. Through that next year I lived and breathed for the job. I am immensely proud and blessed to have had that opportunity and experience.

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That year, however was blighted by ill health. I had operation  after operation and frequent trips to the local A&E. Reflecting back on that time I can track the dramatic decline in my health before my Dystonia took root at the end of July 2012 and Benedict my Dystonia Alien became part of daily life.

For the first year I honestly did not cope. People would tell me how well I was doing and silently I would disagree. I was spending the majority of my time holed up in my room desperately searching for any other answer, any other curable illness that could explain my symptoms. I had no idea how to be me anymore. I had built my whole identity around midwifery, the reality that I was, and still am, to ill to practice had me in denial for many years.

Since 2013 I’ve rediscovered how to live and enjoy life no matter the severity of my symptoms. It does not matter if I am reliant on a wheelchair/stick/splint or if my body is spasming to the point of distortion and dislocation, there is always something positive to latch on to.

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Now that’s not to say down days don’t occur,  they do but on a far less frequent basis than previously. Generally these are only after baffling drs or a new diagnosis being added to the growing list.

Living life with a goal oriented focus has been a huge help for me. It doesn’t matter how big or small the aim in mind, the motivation it provides is key. This mindset has enabled me to qualify as a Reflexologist, complete an AS in creative writing, start a new degree that I adore and now focus on getting my novel to publication.

Aiming and achieving my goals enables me to feel as if I am defeating Benedict. I know he’s never going away but it makes living with him easier. When I first got diagnosed I could barely imagine the next week let alone year. The idea of living with my conditions for any length of time was to painful and deeply upsetting. Four years on I can look to the future with the knowledge that my body will never function as it should but excited as to what new milestones I can achieve next.

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Posted in Archive, March 2013

A flicker of faith restored for the NHS

On Tuesday night I ended up going to A&E to be treated for dehydration. By the time I was seen I had been without water, medication and food for about 32 hours. I count myself extremely lucky that the triage nurse and Doctor who treated me actually knew about Dystonia – this is a first! It took awhile to get a cannulae in me as my veins had done a disappearing act. I was given IV fluids and IV medication. The medication they gave me was called procyclidine. I had never had this medication before and was stunned by how well it worked.

The doctor who was looking after me was very caring, and came and checked on me every five minutes. He instructed me to take the procyclidine for two days (today is my last day on it). I am extremely glad they administered it to me as it really does seem to have had a beneficial effect. I am going to discuss with my consultant, whether it was worth continuing this medication or not.

I am glad that I was treated by two very nice people on Tuesday, as it restored a bit of faith in me for the NHS. Every time I am dismissed by the medical profession  it ends up inspiring me to make a difference! Just because my illness is not well known does not mean I should be shoved to the side.