Saturday, August 28, 2010

Dear LORD, please give me the strength to carry on.

I must be honest and confess that the last two weeks of my life have been amongst the toughest - both mentally and physically - that I have ever encountered. Physically I spent just over two weeks in the Bendigo Base Hospital, which included several lovely trips to where what are commonly known as a series of 'procedures' took place. Mentally, I have sunk to the lowest level in my life and feel very alone.

The first of these 'procedures' came about when my heart (which was racing) was literally 'stopped' and then re-started by zapping it with two shock paddles... thankfully I was 'out to it' while this was going on! Needless to say I recovered from this ordeal to front up to the next 'procedure' which was called "an MRI".

In the MRI, one is conveyed inert through an extremely narrow tunnel, where a team of jack-hammers pummel your eardrums for about 20 minutes (at least you DO get your choice of music to listen to over the racket of the jack-hammers), while they x-ray your back - and I quite enjoyed as much as I could hear of a song called, "The Farmer's Daughter" - must play it on my programmes! The MRI revealed nothing more than I had once had a broken back (the doctor's said, "nothing serious"... it had only been a small break). Needless to say I'd never known a thing about my broken back.

Another 'procedure' to entertain - or educate - your terrorists was when a ghastly looking tube is literally shoved down your throat and pushed to where it can take pretty pictures of the back region of your heart - in order to see what 'bugs' are vegetating (the doctors couldn't find any bugs, but they apparently lurk in 'vegetation', so that was a waste of effort as well)!

Amongst all these were a regular progression of blood tests, aimed at putting a 'bung' in my hand (which made it easier for a serious of medical 'experts' to come and fill up their little phials with my blood to do MORE tests - those 'bugs' MUST be somewhere! The problem here is that the poor little veins in my crooked left arm (my right arm is off limits for anything to be poked in it) all cower in horror when they see an approaching needle... either that or they collapse. This 'failure to get their blood' causes the werewolf to come out of nurses, doctors, and all medico's and they all line up to have a go of who can claim their prize out of this difficult little turkey... I'm not sure what the prize is, but the winner is the successful 'bung' installer! I can normally tolerate these little blood tests, but - no exaggeration here, I had NO LESS than eleven medical staff try their hardest (all very painfully) to extract blood from my veins in the first instant.

Towards the end of these 'procedures' my mind had said 'enough is enough' and "I WANT NO MORE BLOOD TESTS", until one lady Indian Doctor begged me to have a go, so I gave in... she attacked from the other side of my bed, put the tourniquet on ABOVE my left elbow (all the others had started on my left and put the tourniquet UNDER my left elbow) and she was "in like Flynn"!

OK, add to the above countless interruptions to my attempted slumber for blood pressures, thermometers stuck in one's ear, etc., that my return home yesterday from fifteen days of unspeakable horror give me the impression that Hospitals Make You Sick". Other little things that upset me were being asked if I "wanted to use the bottle" and when I said, "yes please", they told me they would be 'back in a minute'... to return TWO HOURS LATER.

Well, there is more to the above story, but let me just conclude by saying I'm very glad to be home... complete with my undiscovered 'bugs', until next time.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

OMG dear boy, you have been to hell and back, haven't you. So very sorry to read of your excursion to the " Bendigo Health(?)Farm". Gosh you must be glad to be home. Stay well, stay strong and above all, stay happy!
luvya
Jan

Hank Wheelie said...

G'day my old friend (and I don't mean OLD!). It seemed a very trying and difficult time but keep on keeping on.

Kindet regards,

Hank.