Ouch πŸ’‰

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Friday 14th to Saturday 15th April

It’s Good Friday! And I was allowed HOME!!! 🏠

The doctors came round reasonably early in the morning and said that I could go. Both my blood pressure and my hb level in my blood were still low but had improved from what they were. The bleeding had still stopped. I was being sent home with some antibiotics, also hormone and iron tablets. I will receive a clinic appointment for about a month’s time. I need to see a doctor at my surgery sometime this following week so they can check my blood pressure and to take some more blood from me to check how all my levels are doing :/

I probably didn’t ask the doctor enough questions about what had happened, what effects it may have had on my liver and what the course of action might be in the future so I don’t have to go through all this again, but I just wanted to go home. I had been poked and prodded about no end with different doctors and nurses trying to get blood out of me and trying to put cannula’s into me so they are able to give my iv treatments. My arms were very bruised and sore. I am not the easiest person to get blood from at the best of times (my veins are very tiny and some are now quite hard from where they have been used a lot in the past) let alone when I have lost a lot of my own blood! 

One morning the doctor came round at 6.30am and tried to get blood from both of my feet. This was so painful 😩 I said to her before she started that she might find she would be more successful if she let me actually wake up, have a drink and a tiny bit of breakfast before she tried. But no, she wouldn’t listen, she seemed intent on putting me through two lots of pain before saying ‘I think I’ll let you have your breakfast and then we’ll try again later’ I could have punched her!!! When you have been in hospital and these situations many times before you do get to know your own bodies. Why won’t they listen to their patient? 

I don’t know how many times I was brought my tacrolimus medication for me to take first thing in the morning when I kept telling them that you have to take it about 12 hours apart and I hadn’t taken it until 10pm the night before! It’s so different being a patient on a gynae ward, I guess you take it for granted that the nurses would know about the timings for anti rejection medications, but of course it’s not that much of a regular thing for them so many of them didn’t know anything about it. 

The nurses that looked after me were all lovely though. Most of them were young and they all looked after me really well. When I was finally allowed to walk to the toilet again they all were quite insistent that they walked alongside me and waited outside the loo for my return journey! (I was very dizzy as a result of my very low blood pressure so was only allowed a commode by the side of the bed at first).

But now I was feeling a bit better, all the dizziness had gone and I was going home. Thank goodness. As I was also very conscious of the fact that the more time I was just led about in my bed there I was getting more and more at risk of picking up some kind of infection, which would make me feel much worse than I actually originally was! So all I needed to do now was to wait for my new medications to arrive up on the ward from the pharmacy. This took until just after lunchtime. Leah had already arrived during the morning and was waiting with me to take me home.

It was a weird feeling when I first got back home. I didn’t know what to do with myself! Robyn was in Brazil, Leah had to go and feed her dad’s dogs as she was looking after them for him for a couple of days – so I did a bit of washing up!

A lovely shower 🚿 a little drive out in Gary’s car πŸš— which was later followed by a nice takeaway curry πŸ› – this was how I celebrated my freedom πŸ˜€

I still didn’t feel particularly brilliant on Saturday. But we took a trip into Banbury as there was a garden furniture set waiting to be collected! along with some other bits of shopping. Gary did a barbecue in the evening.

Then I found a random ansaphone message from a doctor at the JR saying that my tac level in my blood was too low (but there was no mention of the number it actually was) and that I needed to get in touch with my consultant in Birmingham. This was a bit unsettling as this is the medication I take to stop my body rejecting my liver. I guess it makes sense that it would be low as a lot of my own blood has gone and has been replaced with someone else’s. I tried to return the call but the doctor wasn’t around anymore and no one else seemed to be able to help me. What was the point of me trying to ring the QE for advice when I didn’t have the level to give them? So this problem wasn’t going to get sorted out tonight …

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