neo2810 Posted December 4, 2011 Share Posted December 4, 2011 I have always had little stomach niggles: a gastric erosion cured by an antacid course in 2007, a hernia repaired in 2008, and an unexplained pain just below my left ribcage. Over the past 3 years I've tested most of the NHS expensive machines in a futile attempt to identify the cause of this pain. Since it was intermittent and bearable and we'd tested for all the big nasties, I wasn't too pushy, and left it. Well last week, the pain intensified a little so I started a course of pantoprozole to treat a suspected gastric erosion. What I should have done, is check my medical history and I may have discovered that last time I took pantoprozole, I had a bad reaction to it and switched to Omeprozole after 2 days. To compound the issue, I went for a curry night on Saturday which culminated in an attempt to finish a bottle of Black Label. So all in all, I did my level best to break as many of the rules of ulcer avoidance as I could. Anyway, as expected, Sunday was spent on the couch, but the following 3 days were not very comfortable and I decide on Thursday that it was time I seek advice from a doctor. After a brief telephone chat, she suggested I go and see her. It didn't take long for her to suggest a tummy prod, but when she did some flick test around my appendix area, my wince put a look onto her face which screamed to me, "Oh my". She then explained that the next 10 minutes must involve getting to the hospital, and nothing else. I arrived at the RVI, took the short walk to the assessment unit, and settled into a wobbly pile of chairs feeling very young amongst lots of silver haired contestants. I call them contestants because a waiting room always appears to become a game of shifty eyes. The aim is to see how many people you can watch without being noticed. I'm seen rather quickly, and initially my blood pressure is checked, and a hospital tag fitted. Annoyingly, the male, foreign nurse doesn't cut off the excess tag so I'm left with a 6cm bit of plastic flapping about. I put it down to culture differences and move on, carefully, so as not to put anyone's eye out... I'm then moved down to the surgical ward and given a bed. This is all beginning to look very long term. I then have blood taken, and shortly after some porter bloke turns up with a chair on wheels and forces me to sit in it while he wheels me down to x-ray despite my protests that I am perfectly capable of walking there. X-rays done and I'm returned, via wheel based chair, to my ward. I take the opportunity to scope out my neighbours. There are 8 beds but only 3 occupied. One of my fellow patients can only be described as the male version Of the Golden Girl, Dorothy Zbornak. The other has a tube with a bag on the end protruding from his stomach. I silently hope that's not how I end up. Both lads are pleasant enough so I settle in. A nurse then turns up, female, blonde, pretty. Things are looking up! Then however, she assaults me. She shoves a cannula into my arm vein but forgets to tap it off so my precious blood freely flows onto the nice white sheets. She mumbles that's not supposed to happen, no shit. Eventually she gets enough blood into the container and shuffles off. I then have a largely uneventful night, apart from the incredible wind machine in bed no.5 who provides the tunes. The morning brings new hope, a chance to go home until I'm given a menu to choose from for Saturday. Soon after that a consultant breezes in with 5 wide eyed students in tow. He prods about my stomach, asking his students a few medical jargon filled question and breezes off, mumbling something about an ultra sound. The students shuffle along behind him not looking the least but enlightened. I spend the day watching TV and wondering why I'm still here. By nightfall, curiosity gets the better of me and I ask the nurse who explains my blood tests indicated some inflammation but they don't yet know where or what. That helps me to feel a little more worthy of being around all the really sick people so I settle in for the long haul. Dinner that night consists or something pretending to be shepherds pie, and mixed veg which appears to have been steamed in a dishwasher. I try a mouthful of the pie and decide my life is worth more than that. So I eat the peas, which taste like chicken. I couldn't even identify the pudding so I keep the lid on it for the safety of those around me. Another uneventful night and on to Saturday. Saturday is where the fun began. About lunchtime I begin to feel some pain just below my ribs. Over the next hour it intensifies to the point where I'm convinced one of my organs is attempting an escape by tunnelling under my ribcage. I take paracetamol, then codeine, and eventually a good dose of morphine. Interesting stuff, morphine. So an hour of agony later, peace ensues. I have another X-ray, and settle down for the night. It's Sunday now, and I'm hoping they can fit me in today for an ultrasound... The wifi in this place sucks! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Scott Posted December 4, 2011 Share Posted December 4, 2011 Sounds like you're having a blast mate On the plus side, your writing has greatly improved Hope they get to the bottom of it all, get well soon. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
hackin_n_bashin Posted December 4, 2011 Share Posted December 4, 2011 Keel your own chin up mate, and keep writing, quite spike milliganesque. Hope things look up today. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
SupraD06 Posted December 4, 2011 Share Posted December 4, 2011 Jesus mate, sounds like a right carry on. Have you been given any clue as so whats causing all this? or if there is anything they think it might be? Hope it all turns out ok mate, i hate hospitals and feel sorry for you having to stomach the food. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Abz Posted December 4, 2011 Share Posted December 4, 2011 I hope it isn't anything too serious & you are out soon. Though, never give up the chance of being ported round the hospital! I use it as a good opportunity to check out the hot female doctors/nurses! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tyson Posted December 4, 2011 Share Posted December 4, 2011 Bad times bud hope its nothing serious and you get a clean bill of health soon. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
neo2810 Posted December 4, 2011 Author Share Posted December 4, 2011 Thanks Scott, I aspire to your approval The doctors seem to think it could be my kidneys, or an ulcer, or my gall bladder, or appendix, or possibly my urine tract, but they haven't ruled out a headache. In short, no, not a clue... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tyson Posted December 4, 2011 Share Posted December 4, 2011 Ahh the good ol' NHS money well spent ...... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Attero Posted December 4, 2011 Share Posted December 4, 2011 Nice blog. Hope everythings alright! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
jazz1 Posted December 4, 2011 Share Posted December 4, 2011 Ulcers are not hard to treat and acid, I suffered digestive problems for 7 years, they diagnosed me last year with ulcerative colitis. They put me on Nearly 16 tablets a day for life, i threw them in the bin and treated myself with probiotics. Iv tried every probiotic out there and know which ones will work if you fancy taking them pm me . Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tkddav3 Posted December 4, 2011 Share Posted December 4, 2011 sorry to hear mate doesnt sound like a very nice experience! although you did make me chuckle a few times with the way you described peoples stupidity! i hope all goes well and your back to health soon! oh and give the hot nurse my number please Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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