On Thursday, two days after surgery, the doctors said that I was fine, and could be discharged. The nurses were concerned about my bowels, but that was all! My friend Umer kindly helped me from Guy’s hospital, into the mini-cab and up to see Jasmine at Great Ormond Street. It was great to see her. She was all puffed up, with a lot of fluid on board. I was rather out of breath, so didn’t stay long and got Umer to help me over to our room in the patient hotel and get settled in.
Great Ormond Street Hospital has a patient hotel opposite the hospital. This is for patients who are well enough to leave the ward, but who need to be near the hospital for tests or support and cannot travel far. We were very lucky to be able to stay there before Jasmine was discharged so that I could visit Jasmine, and Ruth wouldn’t have to travel between the two of us.
Overnight the power went out and all the emergency lights came on, so we didn’t get the best sleep. As the power was out we couldn’t have a cup of tea. This also knocked the lifts out for most of the day (more on that story later). I was feeling pretty rough and threw up in the morning, luckily there was a Clinical Site Practitioner (CSP) on hand to look me over. They were going round all the rooms, checking all the patients were OK with the power cut. I wasn’t in too much pain, but I didn’t have much appetite. Ruth went on an emergency tea and toast run to a nearby cafe. Later on my parents came to look after me, while Ruth spent time with Jasmine. I tried phoning Guy’s but after you have been discharged there is nothing they can do and I would have had to go to Accident and Emergency. They hadn’t sent me home with any of the anti-nausea medicine that I had been given whilst on the ward.
In the afternoon Ruth got a wheelchair and pushed me over to see Jasmine. By the time I got there I was tired and needed to get my breath back. I got to see the CSPs again, as I was looking rather ill. They said that I had surgical emphysema, where the skin feels like it has tissue paper underneath. This was weird, but not dangerous. It was also causing me pain in my shoulder.
On Saturday Aarti kindly came round with lots of different food to try to combat my nausea. As nausea is a side effect of the opiate based pain killer tramadol I decided to stop taking it on Sunday. My nausea was much better, as were my sweats, and shakes. Aarti came round again, as did Greg. By Monday I was in some pain, but feeling much better. My parents came up for the day, and did the washing.
In the evening I felt like getting some air, so decided to walk slowly over to see Jasmine. She was sitting up in her cot, watching the TV, looking a bit cross, but otherwise doing well. When we got back to the patient hotel we discovered that the lifts were out again. There was no way that I could walk up four flights of stairs so I had to wait in reception. Ruth went up to the room and brought me down a cup of tea. The CSP came to check that I was OK (again!). After a couple of hours with no sign of a lift engineer we decided to abandon the patient hotel and go back home. Ruth packed up some things, got us a black cab and took Calista and me home. By the time I got home I was cold and exhausted and cursing the patient hotel! But it is always so nice to be back in your own home.