Saturday, September 3, 2011

home sweet home

It is 4.21 am and this is my first night out of hospital. I have a few holes in my tummy, one of which is reluctant to close up, but we are talking discomfort rather than pain.
When I got to the hospital, the nurses were horrified to see that I was a woman and not a man, and so I got a room to myself (at first). French people always seem to think the name Gillian is that of a man, and they had arranged for me to share a two bedroom ward with a man...
They gravely informed me that this is illegal.
When I got to the operating theatre a series of nurses kept asking me my name and date of birth, showing a healthy scepticism with regard to the label on my wrist. I couldn't help wondering whether the wrong person had had the wrong bit chopped out at some point...
I looked about me for Zhoen and tried to feel reassured as I imagined her French equivalent competantly exchanging dry remarks with the surgeon.
I got back to my room and discovered that the next bed had been occupied by an elderly Breton matriarch of 82 who had 7 children, 32 grand children and 25 great grandchildren, all of whom were phoning her at 5 minute intervals. She was very deaf and felt disposed to chat... I didn't.
Opposite each bed was a television hanging on the wall, and a set of headphones was provided to avoid disturbing other patients. My neighbour would have no truck with these new fangled gadgets, put them on her bed and turned the volume up to maximum so the headphones acted as loud but tinny speakers as she screamed down the phone to her relatives.
So it was with relief that I came home after just one day recovering from the operation.

But there is just one thing, if you are wondering why I am blogging at 4am, it is the bed.
I just cant get comfy in my comfy bed, because I need to be almost upright.
I wish I could have taken the hospital bed home with me...

11 comments:

The Crow said...

I hope your recovery is rapid and complete. (I drop by here frequently, but don't usually leave a comment.)

Rosie said...

thank you crow, glad that you feel disposed to chat this time...so do I!

Frankofile said...

We had a nuit blanche last night too - plumbing issues chez les enfants, involving insurer-recommended all night plumber who cursed when he was telephoned :-0 Terry Pratchett recommends the essentials of life as good dentistry and soft toilet paper; call it plumbing (internal and external) and I'm with him.

Best wishes for your personal plumbing!

Lesley said...

Feel better soon. (I had the same op years ago - much better off without my gb!)

Lucy said...

Ooh, welcome home. I didn't pick upyour reply comment last or I might well have descended on your hospital bed bearing... well something.

As it is, get well soon and let me know when you're up for a visit.

Zhoen said...

Oh, we nurses are a suspicious bunch, always checking and double checking. Professional paranoids. And wrong site/wrong patient surgeries have happened, however rarely. Any is too many.

I do hope the incisions heal quickly. Do you have a recliner? That is quite a comfort after shoulder surgery, anyway.

Sorry about your roomie. Progress is slowly being made away from wards and shared rooms. And I think it should be universal, basic care.

Rosie said...

dear Zhoen it was interesting to get a glimpse of your world...dont get me wrong I like double checking, it is reassuring.I am full of admiration for nurses who do such a demanding job, physically, mentally and emotionally. I shared my time in hospital over the last few weeks with three elderly ladies, one was intelligent and considerate, the other demented and the last as described in the post...life's rich tapestry!

Jean said...

All my best wishes for a relaxing and successful convalescence, after what must have been a horribly exhausting and traumatic time (I have heard some other, less humorous accounts of gallstones, which clearly do indeed come very high on most people's numerical scale of pain). One of those big, triangular foam wedges comes to mind as what you maybe need to recline against. Get well soon and accept maximum pampering in the meantime. xxx

Mouse said...

Hope you feel better soon...
Nice that you weren't obliged to sleep next to a male stranger, that still seems to happen over here which is why I refuse to ever go into hospital in the UK. Crikey, I couldn't always bear to sleep near my ex husband let alone a strange man! But the Breton lady sounds so like interesting. I once shared a ward with the matriarch from that TV series "The Family", do you remember that? It was quite interesting once I'd stopped being scared of her. For some reason she took to me and kept offering me cheap goods off the back of a lorry, and we even ended up waltzing down the ward to celebrate her non-cancer diagnosis which led to my sides splitting, literally, as my stitches burst. Happy days!

tristan said...

i do hope you will take advantage of this golden opportunity to compile a list of unreasonable demands for your loved ones, so that they may demonstrate and prove the depths of their love ... a crate of guinness, perhaps ?

Rosie said...

tristan I shall ask my beloved to sculpt me the foam wedge described by Jean...Mouse, I made the mistake of listening to Dr Phil Hammonds stand up routine of medical cockups and nearly split my stitches laughing...