« A diary of hospital life following a diagnosis of acute kidney failure »

19th September 2006: Looking at surgically implanting stents

Moved room, given the good/bad news.

Moved to room 10 on the ward…

Just as well really as I was ready for throttling the old in the end bed. He was loud, rude, obnoxious and the way he treated his son was an utter disgrace. Basically he came in near death and his ex wife comes in all concerned. His ex-wife who walked out on him 30 years earlier and senses money. Basically a little surgery and gloop and he's on the mend, broadcasting his love for this estranged person who is whispering, "just give me the house keys, my love", and "just sign this blank cheque, honey pie". Ugly and messy as it was, but she's timing all this to avoid meeting her grown up son. Inevitable happens, bad timing and the old git it ranting telling his son - the son who's apparently supported him the past 30 years - how he's nothing and what he does with his house and money is his business.

What made it all the more annoying was the ex would saunter in any time she felt like, regardless of visiting times and, when not wheedling for money, the pair argued constantly, her whispering, him repeating everything at the top of his voice, glaring at anyone and everyone that 'overheard' anything. Some of the people in the ward were really ill - at least one died - and having to endure this pair while you are trying to eat a meal was just too much. In the end I told the ward manager that if I had that pair arguing though one more meal time I would suffocate the git with his pillow.

Anyway, chased the young doctor for the latest MRI and blood test results. There IS a clear blockage where the ureter meets the urethra (before emptying properly into the bladder properly, I guess). Basically, in my opinion, if those incompetant and negligent* fools at Whiston had done their jobs properly and had done the CT-Scan - as urgently recommended for by the nephrology consultant - I'd have been sorted weeks earlier. Apparently, I'm assured, Whiston has an outstanding urology department, but I wouldn't know because no-one, absolutely no-one from there came to see me. Actually, apart from Dr Schultz coming from the Royal to see me, hardly anyone higher than plubologist (blood nurse) saw me there!

* [ And yes, Whistons Chief Executive did eventually admit to and apologise for a long string of failures by the trust ]

Net result, it is a urology problem and, all being well, I'll see the consultant in the morning and find out the score. Initially there are looking at implanting a stent to open it up. Whether it is a temporary measure (one off unblocking) or a permanent solution jury rigging) that needs replacing every few months to stop the risk of infecting, and calcifying, needs to be seen. Naturally I'm hoping for the former solution!
[ As it happens it was the latter, needed repeated surgery, took two stents and I'm overdue to have it sorted. Frankly getting a mit antsy about it as my condition is worsening again… ]

Visitors

Mum and Dad came up on the bus. Kind of threw them having someone else in my bed, but one of the nurses pointed them in the right direction.