Grantham Journal letter: My pleasant stay in hospital marred
It was personally extremely fortuitous, I suppose, that following my severe digestive upheaval, that my daughter Judy was present as she was able to react immediately and contact the carers, and following directions from Vine Street Surgery the paramedic team were also alerted.
Their prompt response, together with due enquiry was followed by much cheerfulness as to my indisposition and allayed any anxieties I may have felt.
On enquiry, as to my wellbeing, the team leader, pausing to consider all the data, reflected that I might have to have a spell in Grantham Hospital. Unfortunately, the hospital was greatly inundated at that particular time which was around 6pm.
I’m an impatient patient at the best of times but my daughter, acting on my behalf throughout due to my acute deafness, kept my feet firmly on the ground as she duly conversed with our paramedic friends and, finally, the ambulance crew. My admiration of this medical progression was profound. The subsequent drive to the A&E department was uneventful but comfortable.
Unfortunately the wait in the corridor and cubicle took some five hours while paperwork was prepared and scrutinised, but I was eventually wheeled into EAU to be settled in a bed, and, yes, I had arrived. The wonderful attention up to now, continued as the night staff greeted me and made me so welcome.
Questioned about my date of birth and “what may we call you”, made this 91 year old so relaxed in realisation that I was in good hands.
My vivid recollection of my sojourn was of unrelenting medical attention throughout the ward. Health carers, as they wished to be called, were constantly active to my individual requirements.
The traffic across the ward was incessant, orderlies with their mops and cones placed to let one know that wet floors are danger. The arrival of the tea and coffee trolley together with a cheerful operative was a wonderful sight and provided me with such fun. Meals on wheels brought a request from me for a full English only to be rebuked with humour.
Visiting time gave me an opportunity to relate my ‘ raison d’etre, and when, came the day that the House Doctor advised me that fluid on my left lung was to be removed, the procedure was uneventful and successful within a 15 minute operation.
The news of my discharge date caused me some excitement, especially as transport was being arranged for the next day, but I have to conclude this narrative in a rather sad way.
The previous six nights had been so happy an experience until the last night. During the early hours I pressed my alarm needing a blanket and pain killers. After three requests this person threw the blanket over me but failed to get my drink for the pills. Her associate later took my blood pressure, and it was at this point that I offered my apologies for possibly upsetting her colleague, whereupon my conversation was overheard in the next cubicle and I was confronted with a strident and aggressive young lady who said in a loud voice. “I was attending a sick lady, okay.”
I conclude that she is in the wrong career and would be more use as a fishmonger’s helper. A wonderful experience of our Grantham Hospital marred by a misfit.
Brick Kiln Place,