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Wednesday, 4 December 2013
Back at ya. Yesterday (3 December) was the horridest day evah. With all the dignity I could possibly muster, I passed out on the commode and went tumbling to the floor in front of the whole ward. A very undignified adventure with a green and yellow hoist, I was returned to bed in a heap of misery.
By the time Aimee arrived on the ward, I was a pile of self-pitying misery. Luckily for everyone Aimee arrived early and flew through the ward like Marry Poppins with all her magic. She sorted out stuff like my medication so I wasn't permanently tied to my bed on a drip. She got me out of bed and into a chair which was great for when Alex and Mickey arrived but may have overdone it as my back is crap this morning and gave me gyp all night. She cleaned the old plasters off my hands and arms, sorted out one line that had been sewn in crooked, got me mobile and lightened my day.
She made me feel that life was possible, rather than looking forward to nothing but death. And all from a little pocket rocket.
Which put in a better place for the new attack from the Consultant who shall not be named. He has decided that I a not trying hard enough to get better and should be instantly transferred to the West Suffolk. Whilst I agree about the transfer perhaps hwsnbn should look at the way his team is run (understaffing, agency nurses, crappy essential equipment) and try to understand that nursing , rather than production line,one size fits all, might make his statistics even more impressive and he won't have to threaten people like me
Anyways, it was lovely to see my visitors, lovely to have a day with Aimee and even better to snarl at the Consultant. Everyone needs a bad guy.