Round and round and round again

Weekends on a hospital ward are a little different to the mid week hustle. The biggest difference is that there are no doctor’s rounds in the morning, though you do see the odd junior dogsbody running around signing for prescriptions etc. It means, that during the day at least, things are a little more peaceful and a lot more boring...if that’s even possible.

Days on the ward seem like endless stretches of time broken only by the rigidly timetabled meals, and the not so well timetabled obs rounds. Nurses flit by, always rushing to the next ringing call bell, and requests are often forgotten. It would be easy to say that they are ignored, but I know that it’s not that simple. These men and women have far too many tasks to do already, and so when asked for something simple like a jug of water, or an extra blanket, it’s far too easy to simply forget that they had been asked.

I think the worst thing of this whole experience was the way the doctors treated me. They stand in a wee huddle at the end of the bed discussing you as though you weren’t even there. Then they turn on that patronising smarm and ask ‘and how are we feeling today?’ WE? I am climbing the damn walls, thank you very much. Calmly, and patiently I explained my symptoms, over and over again, to every doctor who came by the bed. However, instead of coming up with any answers, all I got were yet more questions. Every doc had a different answer, and not one agreed on the type of tests I should undergo.

The only thing that was keeping me sane was Emma, in the next bed, though we were often in trouble with the nurses for setting off our monitors. I particularly remember the Sunday evening. I’d finally caved and paid for the hospital TV. I wanted to watch the vampire diaries, and the superbowl final ,and with no internet, TV was the only way to go. So I shuffled off to the card machine, and then got myself all wrapped up in my blankies with my water glass nearby.

It was only after I got comfy I realised that I was in trouble. I still had an IV in my right elbow, which meant I couldn’t bend my arm. Have you ever tried to put on a pair of headphones one handed? Even worse, I was right handed, and having to use my left for everything. Cack-handed doesn’t cover it, and after a minute or two my giggles started. Emma didn’t take long to follow and soon both of us were rocking with laughter. We’d barely started when the thud of racing feet came our way and a frantic nurse skidded to a halt between the two beds. ‘Just what are you two troublemakers up to now?’ It seems that on a hospital ward, fun is forbidden too.