This post is quite personal, they all are but I think bodily functions are always more embarrassing to talk about! I'm writing it anyway because this blog is also a way of me keeping a diary because I keep forgetting to actually write in mine (Im using it to write these because we had to keep one for the solicitors from day one). Also I want to capture every detail because these sort of things don't cross peoples minds when they think of crashes, so if you don't want to know about me going to the toilet by all means don't read it haha
3rd September over two weeks since the crash. I had spent all of this time with a 'urinary catheter' this was put in when I arrived as it was pretty obvious I wasnt going to be able to go to a toilet anytime soon. Also while I was in a coma I was being pumped with fluids so obviously your bladder still needs to empty but you cant go so the tube goes all the way into the urethra (don't worry I wont be attatching any photos! aha) and continually drains into a box/bag. This stayed in for so long because my injuries were so severe i could not even use a bed pan regularly. But after over two weeks it had to come out because of the high infection risk. I was terrified. I thought it takes a few nurses and a lot of pain to get from my bed onto the commode chair and if theyre busy they wont answer my buzzer quickly. Plus I hadn't felt the need or gone for a wee in over two weeks, I think I forgot that you don't suddenly need the loo then wet yourself...So anyway they took it out at midnight (not something you want to be woken up for) I don't know if it hurt going in as I was in a coma but it stung coming out! You have to pee within six hours or you need another put in and I went at 5.55am I like to live on the edge! Anyway it wasn't as bad as I thought, I had a commode (basically a chair with a hole in that you can fit a pot under to be used as a toilet) luckily while I was in hospital the commode chair actually fitted over the toilet in my 'en-suite' so once I was on it the nurse could just push me in and it was basically the same as using the toilet I just had to buzz for them to come and get me out. They also had to pull my bottoms up/down for the first week because I couldn't move to lift or adjust like you normally could. Actually it wasn't even embarrassing I was so weak, so vulnerable and in constant agony I really didn't care. I didn't care when I had to be bed bathed naked and rolled over so someone could wash my back and I didnt care that someone had to wipe my ass at 19. But think about that when you think 'I'll just speed through here I'm going to be late' or think about showing off in your car. I didnt care because I didnt have the ability to care at that point.
My PCA (patient controlled analgesia-morphine) was also taken away. Funnily enough they don't really like you to be filling yourself with an opiate for more than two weeks! Luckily I was still allowed Oramorph (drinkable morphine) whenever I wanted it because jesus did I need it. Skin stapled to a huge burn on your back, countless broken bones burst liver and road burns really fucking hurt. Plus my donor site on the back of my thigh was really starting to hurt...when my nurse took the dressing off it was pretty clearly infected! With pseudomonas to be presise.
This meant I had to have betadine soaked gauze and a new dressing put on it and more antibiotics! Betadine either is iodine or has iodine in it (I cant remember!) but that means its bright orange and soaks through everything!
DRIVE SAFE, George xxx
Wednesday, 24 April 2013
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
Thursday 30th August Sitting in a WHEELCHAIR... meeting Gareth Gates...
29th August was an exciting day! (not because I met Gareth) Two days after I had been sat up for the first time (and then remained flat for another 2 days) my physio's turned up with a wheelchair! Another thing I never thought would be exciting, but god I was happy! I had to use two physio's, a nurse, a banana board, a slide sheet and another nurse on stand by to get into the wheelchair but I did it! I had (and still do have) a special support cushion for my pelvis and my left leg had to be elevated because bending it even slightly was SO SO painful. Another thing people probably don't think about was all the attatchments I had! I had a catheter (pipe directly into your bladder continually draining) so they had to get me into the chair without catching it and then hang it on the side. I still had my first VAC box dressing attatched to my graft, so they had to unplug the box and switch it to run on battery, that then went in a bag on the back of the chair. I also had several canulars (needles into the vein for easy access with fluids, pain relief and antibiotics) one of which was attatched to my PCA of morphine (patient controlled analgesia) so that had to sit on my lap.
So all in all I was looking pretty trendy with my bag of wee on the side and huge box of back fluid behind me. Did I mention the VAC makes noises as it sucks?!
Anyway the physio's took me into the hall (first time I had left my room other than on my bed to theatre) and I had a feeble go at wheeling myself. Its hard to get used to (and i still had an undiagnosed broken wrist so it hurt). Then this receptionist, clerk person comes up and takes my handles and pushes me down the hall to meet Gareth Gates. What the hell? Now this blog may become world famous (very unlikely haha) so I will watch what i say, but lets just say I was a lot more interested in learning to move in a wheelchair! The military ward get a lot of famous visitors (something else I wont go on about but I dont think its fair on the other wards..)
DRIVE SAFE george xxx
So all in all I was looking pretty trendy with my bag of wee on the side and huge box of back fluid behind me. Did I mention the VAC makes noises as it sucks?!
Anyway the physio's took me into the hall (first time I had left my room other than on my bed to theatre) and I had a feeble go at wheeling myself. Its hard to get used to (and i still had an undiagnosed broken wrist so it hurt). Then this receptionist, clerk person comes up and takes my handles and pushes me down the hall to meet Gareth Gates. What the hell? Now this blog may become world famous (very unlikely haha) so I will watch what i say, but lets just say I was a lot more interested in learning to move in a wheelchair! The military ward get a lot of famous visitors (something else I wont go on about but I dont think its fair on the other wards..)
DRIVE SAFE george xxx
Sunday, 14 April 2013
Tuesday 28th August, SITTING UP!...
On Tuesday the 28th August - 9 days after the crash, 5 days after skin graft 1- It had been a rough weekend. I had my skin graft on the friday and then it was bank holiday weekend, now what most people (including myself back then) don't realise is doctors and consultants don't really work bank holidays. Technically they do but where there will be the exact same number of nurses on duty day and night everyday of the year, there are a lot less of them. There are still plenty on call and around for emergencies but not as many. I was still in a lot of agonising pain, it still felt like there were bricks on top of me and I had been lay in the same position able to just turn my head for 9 days. I was constantly boiling and then freezing and I was put on IV (through the vein) antibiotics.
Despite all of this my physiotherapists decided to try and sit me up that day, to make me smile if nothing else. Its hard to explain my progress because things like this 'sitting up' it's not the same as you would just sit up. Infact sitting is something I got very stressed about and no-one could understand, weeks after this day I still had to be pulled up the bed with my sheet and two nurses whenever I had slid down too far. But even after that with the back of the bed sat up I still was adament I wasnt SITTING but they didn't get it. Now I know that its because I was sort of sat on my tail bone (which was incidently snapped) not on my actual bum! Anyway back to being sat up! I had three physio's and a sheet for this. The sheet was put under my bum with the help of some agonising rolling, then the back of my bed was sat up to an upright position to bring my back up. Two of the physios took my back and arms and pulled me forward, then using the sheet aswell I was slid round so my feet could be carefully rested over the side of the bed. That doesn't sound like much and I couldnt do it alone for weeks but I cried. It was so overwhelming, not even the actual sitting up, I think 1. I felt 1% more human because I wasnt flat on my back and 2. It kind of sunk in that it had really happened. Even today 7 months on it hasn't fully sunk in at all but that point I think I finally realised I wasn't going to wake up...
BE SAFE, George xxx
Despite all of this my physiotherapists decided to try and sit me up that day, to make me smile if nothing else. Its hard to explain my progress because things like this 'sitting up' it's not the same as you would just sit up. Infact sitting is something I got very stressed about and no-one could understand, weeks after this day I still had to be pulled up the bed with my sheet and two nurses whenever I had slid down too far. But even after that with the back of the bed sat up I still was adament I wasnt SITTING but they didn't get it. Now I know that its because I was sort of sat on my tail bone (which was incidently snapped) not on my actual bum! Anyway back to being sat up! I had three physio's and a sheet for this. The sheet was put under my bum with the help of some agonising rolling, then the back of my bed was sat up to an upright position to bring my back up. Two of the physios took my back and arms and pulled me forward, then using the sheet aswell I was slid round so my feet could be carefully rested over the side of the bed. That doesn't sound like much and I couldnt do it alone for weeks but I cried. It was so overwhelming, not even the actual sitting up, I think 1. I felt 1% more human because I wasnt flat on my back and 2. It kind of sunk in that it had really happened. Even today 7 months on it hasn't fully sunk in at all but that point I think I finally realised I wasn't going to wake up...
BE SAFE, George xxx
Tuesday, 9 April 2013
Skin Graft Number One...
Thursday 23rd August (My first full day on the military trauma ward) it is safe to say I didn't really know what my injuries were. I think I was told in brief detail but it didn't go in and they tend to just say things like 'you're very poorly' when you've been through something so severe and clearly wont be able to understand yet. Also at this point I knew we had been in a motorbike accident that a driver had hit us at the island but no idea that I had been driven over and dragged 10 metres and had no memory at all.
That afternoon my mum went home to sleep and Joss (my boyfriend and the bike rider) and Rhianna (his sister and my friend) were with me when a woman came into my room. I remember this clearly - she did not introduce herself and she was with a few students, she said some crap and then said ''So we're getting you in for your skin graft tomorrow''. The minute she said that sentence I went into massive panic. I couldn't breathe I started asking what she was talking about that I had no idea I was having any operations and she said ''yes you need a skin graft on your back from where you were stuck to the cars exhaust pipe'' This is where consultants and doctors fail. I had NO idea I had been under the car at this point, NO idea I even had a burn let alone how severe, NO idea I was having any operations. Then she tried to claim it had been decided on friday (IMPOSSIBLE my accident happened on sunday 2 days AFTER friday). After waking up in ITU I was terrified of even falling asleep the thought of being put under was more horrifying for me than I can even explain.
During this panic attack she just left and luckily my wonderful nurse Laura came in, I was in an awful state crying and screaming yet trapped in my body unable to move. She assured me that I had to give consent and so I could refuse but I really needed the operation, that waking up wouldnt be like in ITU (ive never had an op or even been in hospital before this).
I didn't agree/sign to the operation until I was in the anaesthetic room, I pressed my morphine PCA the whole way down hoping i would fall asleep before they could put me under. The assistant in there was wonderful she held my hand and stroked my head like i was a vulnerable child. I didn't feel myself falling asleep next thing I new I was opening my eyes in recovery. I remember I couldnt move (combination of my injuries anyway and the general anaesthetic wearing off) but I managed to say 'thank you for looking after me' to the recovery nurse I felt so thankful and vulnerable.
I had a Split Thickness Skin Graft because they can cover a larger area. The skin was taken from the back of my right thigh using what is essentially a peeler (which as a wound itself is so painful) and literally stapled over my burn (with a little more complexity!). I had a NPWT or Vacuum dressing placed over it, applying a vacuum through a special sealed dressing attatched to a tube and a container box. The continued vacuum draws out fluid (gross!) from the wound and increases blood flow to the area. I also had my shoulder, hip, chest and head wounds washed and dressed and my hair properly shaved to keep my head injury more safe.
I'm going to attatch some photos of skin graft 'implements' and the NPWT dressings THEY ARE NOT ME THEY ARE EXAMPLES FROM GOOGLE hopefully they wont upset anyone!
DRIVE SAFE, George xxx
Example of a vacuum dressing - this person has a knee injury mine was obviously on my back.
Example of the box and tube attatched to you and the dressing.
How the donor skin is taken for applictation to the burn/wound.
That afternoon my mum went home to sleep and Joss (my boyfriend and the bike rider) and Rhianna (his sister and my friend) were with me when a woman came into my room. I remember this clearly - she did not introduce herself and she was with a few students, she said some crap and then said ''So we're getting you in for your skin graft tomorrow''. The minute she said that sentence I went into massive panic. I couldn't breathe I started asking what she was talking about that I had no idea I was having any operations and she said ''yes you need a skin graft on your back from where you were stuck to the cars exhaust pipe'' This is where consultants and doctors fail. I had NO idea I had been under the car at this point, NO idea I even had a burn let alone how severe, NO idea I was having any operations. Then she tried to claim it had been decided on friday (IMPOSSIBLE my accident happened on sunday 2 days AFTER friday). After waking up in ITU I was terrified of even falling asleep the thought of being put under was more horrifying for me than I can even explain.
During this panic attack she just left and luckily my wonderful nurse Laura came in, I was in an awful state crying and screaming yet trapped in my body unable to move. She assured me that I had to give consent and so I could refuse but I really needed the operation, that waking up wouldnt be like in ITU (ive never had an op or even been in hospital before this).
I didn't agree/sign to the operation until I was in the anaesthetic room, I pressed my morphine PCA the whole way down hoping i would fall asleep before they could put me under. The assistant in there was wonderful she held my hand and stroked my head like i was a vulnerable child. I didn't feel myself falling asleep next thing I new I was opening my eyes in recovery. I remember I couldnt move (combination of my injuries anyway and the general anaesthetic wearing off) but I managed to say 'thank you for looking after me' to the recovery nurse I felt so thankful and vulnerable.
I had a Split Thickness Skin Graft because they can cover a larger area. The skin was taken from the back of my right thigh using what is essentially a peeler (which as a wound itself is so painful) and literally stapled over my burn (with a little more complexity!). I had a NPWT or Vacuum dressing placed over it, applying a vacuum through a special sealed dressing attatched to a tube and a container box. The continued vacuum draws out fluid (gross!) from the wound and increases blood flow to the area. I also had my shoulder, hip, chest and head wounds washed and dressed and my hair properly shaved to keep my head injury more safe.
I'm going to attatch some photos of skin graft 'implements' and the NPWT dressings THEY ARE NOT ME THEY ARE EXAMPLES FROM GOOGLE hopefully they wont upset anyone!
DRIVE SAFE, George xxx
Sunday, 7 April 2013
Thursday 23rd August and onwards MIlitary Ward...
I suppose this entry is more of a sum up of the trauma ward before I go into anymore medical stuff.
The military ward was more bearable than intensive care, although that is not to take away from the incredible loving and life saving care I recieved in ITU.
I was on level 4 - in bed 12 - on ward 412, I found that pretty cool (my stepdad found it too confusing...). I had my own room as I was the only girl and very high infection risk, this meant I had my own 'ensuite' although I didn't really get much use out of it! My mom was allowed to stay over for the first two nights on this ward and was given special permission to visit any time in the day for the whole of my stay. This was because I was so young, I was 19 at the time but that is the youngest age you can be in that hospital and as you can imagine I was very vulnerable physically and mentally and needed a lot of support.
The staff on this ward were brilliant, most of them were fairly young and seemed to take a liking to me, this was probably because the ward consisted of crazy old men and soldiers and so I probably seemed very sweet! I was also surprised that a lot of the staff were quite horrified at what had happened to me as I thought they probably saw it a lot. The staff were a mix of military nurses and HCA's and civillian ones. This ward is where I found my favourite nurse, Laura (never thought I'd have one of those!). She was bloody brilliant, I first had her (you have a designated nurse each day) on Thursday 23rd August my first full day on 412. At this point I was still very confused, couldn't move an inch and didn't even want to eat. Part of the routine is a daily wash after breakfast, be that a shower by yourself or a bed bath you have to do it. I had become absolutley petrofied of anything that would mean I had to be rolled (I didn't even want to eat because if I needed the toilet I would have to be rolled onto a bed pan as I only had a cathater for urine, too much information I know!) But Laura came in with Lyndsey (lovely military HCA) and calmly explained they had to do it, it was agony but they chatted to me whilst washing me to try and keep me calm. Still amazes me how they change a bed with you on it! I had lots of lovely nurses for the 4 weeks I was on 412, I was rarely on my own but at night time they would pop in and stop to talk when they were doing my drugs or dressings or canulars. My time on this ward was when I was at my weakest and most vulnerable but past the very real possibility of dying.
I know it's their job but they did everything for me, bed baths, dressing changes, cathater control, canulars, IV's, drugs, bed pan, washing my hair in bed even when I couldnt lift my head, holding my hand, clearing up my awful skin graft infection, eventually pushing me to the toilet and washing me in the shower, dressing me when I could finally wear knickers!, feeding me, making me laugh Laura even shaved my legs before I decided it really didnt matter if I had hairy legs I was barely alive!
DRIVE SAFE, George xxx
The military ward was more bearable than intensive care, although that is not to take away from the incredible loving and life saving care I recieved in ITU.
I was on level 4 - in bed 12 - on ward 412, I found that pretty cool (my stepdad found it too confusing...). I had my own room as I was the only girl and very high infection risk, this meant I had my own 'ensuite' although I didn't really get much use out of it! My mom was allowed to stay over for the first two nights on this ward and was given special permission to visit any time in the day for the whole of my stay. This was because I was so young, I was 19 at the time but that is the youngest age you can be in that hospital and as you can imagine I was very vulnerable physically and mentally and needed a lot of support.
The staff on this ward were brilliant, most of them were fairly young and seemed to take a liking to me, this was probably because the ward consisted of crazy old men and soldiers and so I probably seemed very sweet! I was also surprised that a lot of the staff were quite horrified at what had happened to me as I thought they probably saw it a lot. The staff were a mix of military nurses and HCA's and civillian ones. This ward is where I found my favourite nurse, Laura (never thought I'd have one of those!). She was bloody brilliant, I first had her (you have a designated nurse each day) on Thursday 23rd August my first full day on 412. At this point I was still very confused, couldn't move an inch and didn't even want to eat. Part of the routine is a daily wash after breakfast, be that a shower by yourself or a bed bath you have to do it. I had become absolutley petrofied of anything that would mean I had to be rolled (I didn't even want to eat because if I needed the toilet I would have to be rolled onto a bed pan as I only had a cathater for urine, too much information I know!) But Laura came in with Lyndsey (lovely military HCA) and calmly explained they had to do it, it was agony but they chatted to me whilst washing me to try and keep me calm. Still amazes me how they change a bed with you on it! I had lots of lovely nurses for the 4 weeks I was on 412, I was rarely on my own but at night time they would pop in and stop to talk when they were doing my drugs or dressings or canulars. My time on this ward was when I was at my weakest and most vulnerable but past the very real possibility of dying.
I know it's their job but they did everything for me, bed baths, dressing changes, cathater control, canulars, IV's, drugs, bed pan, washing my hair in bed even when I couldnt lift my head, holding my hand, clearing up my awful skin graft infection, eventually pushing me to the toilet and washing me in the shower, dressing me when I could finally wear knickers!, feeding me, making me laugh Laura even shaved my legs before I decided it really didnt matter if I had hairy legs I was barely alive!
DRIVE SAFE, George xxx
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)