Following yesterday's blog post, FROM BATMAN TO FATMAN, this is my follow-up post recounting my experiences in hospital.
Having being led to my bed, dressed in a hospital gown wearing a catheter and carrying a urine bag attached to the catheter, one nurse attached my urine bag to the bed and attached a saline drip feed to me. It hadn't sunk in what was happening to me though I did realise that I was seeing the future as an old man. As Bette Davis quipped, "Getting old is not for sissies."
The hospital ward was split into bays with four beds to each bay. My bay wasn't a sociable bay as the other three patients had closed their curtains around their beds. I phoned my wife to say that I was admitted to hospital and asked her to bring me some stuff - some spare underwear, pyjamas, toothbrush and toothpaste, shampoo, soap, newspapers, a couple of Sudoku books, a pen and a notepad, bottles of water, my mobile phone charger, and tissues. She came round in the evening with my stuff. She even sneaked a pack of cigarettes into my bag but I didn't smoke any cigarettes while in hospital. I didn't have the urge to smoke, and nor did I have a desire for a glass of chilled dry white wine. My wife mentioned that several people wanted to visit me, I politely mentioned that I wasn't up for a visit from her son living with us. She well understood that I was in no mood to put up with his nonsense.
This was only my second time being admitted to hospital - the first time was well over 40 years ago when I had a corneal graft (transplant). I wasn't expecting a good night's sleep. I was expecting the snoring, a lot of beeping as patients pressed their buzzer for a nurse's attention, and talking amongst staff on the ward. Also I was there under close observation - every two hours even at night when I may be sleeping, my blood pressure. my blood sugar levels and my temperature were checked.
But what I hadn't reckoned for was the 'madness' in the ward. It felt like I was sleeping or rather not sleeping in a lunatic asylum. I was told that people with urinary infections often get a bit delirious, plus I suspect there were were a few people with dementia in the ward. A urology ward is dominated by old people, I was one of the youngest patients on the ward.
There were three patients in particular who were causing the madness; they also occupied much of the nurse's time making it difficult for anyone else to get the attention of a nurse during the night.
The patient next to me snored like a volcano. The irony of him regularly asking nurses for more pain relief so he could sleep was lost on the staff. His sleep meant no sleep for me! This patient also had a habit of ripping out any tubes and wires attached to his body so he could go outside presumably to smoke.
Another patient quite near me screamed every time he had his blood pressure taken and his blood sugar levels tested. These are painless procedures. He was totally blind, but he had been in hospital for nearly 40 weeks so you'd think he'd have gotten use to them. But alas not!
A female patient in a bay behind me turned into a screaming banshee at night. Rather than pressing the buzzer to get a nurse's attention, she would repeatedly shout for help. If no nurse came to see her immediately, she then started shouting that they wanted her dead. This happened every night.
A few patients often shitted themselves in bed. I could understand that given it's a urology ward but they seemed be using their poo as a weapon against the nurses.
During my stay in hospital, security staff were called in three times to sort out various incidents.
Also my urine bag was regularly emptied and the colour of my urine was checked. At this time there was a lot of blood in my urine. This apparently is normal as my bladder and kidneys adjust to changed conditions but nurses were concerned about the amount of blood in my urine. I was strongly advised to drink a lot of water which of course filled my urine bag even quicker. I did as advised; I'm a good patient!
My saline drip feed bag was regularly checked. By the end of my hospital stay, I was getting quite an expert in managing the saline drip feed machine. The machine regularly beeped when it was low on charge. I knew how to charge the drip's battery and I knew what button to press to turn off the beeping sound. The beeping sound never brought a nurse around to my bed. One time my saline bag was empty and the machine was beeping. I decided to press the buzzer for a nurse's attention. Surprisingly a junior doctor came to me and immediately switched off my buzzer's loud beeps. I explained that my saline bag was empty and perhaps needed changing. He just angrily looked at me and said, "Do you want to go for a walk?", before storming off. I was gobsmacked as if I wanted to go for a walk with a catheter and urine bag attached to me in the middle of the night! After a bit of time, I got the attention of a nurse who explained that I was not prescribed any more saline bags - I had used three already. Why didn't the doctor say that to me? Nurses are generally much better than doctors at communicating to patients.
Though wearing a catheter and urine bag, I still had very regular urges to go to the toilet. I found it impossible to determine whether I wanted a pee or a poo. If a pee, I needn't worry as the catheter and urine bag will work their magic. If a poo, then I have to to the toilet. I was going almost hourly, yet another reason why I got little sleep in hospital. As you probably all know, when the urge comes you have to go, and the more you think about going the worse it gets. Going to the toilet meant unplugging the drip feed machine and wheeling the machine, while carrying my urine bag that was hooked to my bed, to the toilet. It was very difficult to get to the toilet quickly. I did get caught short two times but at least it was on the toilet floor which I could clean up myself and not in my bed which would require a public confession!
I had a few visitors while in hospital. My youngest grandson came to visit to give me some grapes, though he proceeded to eat most of them! Teasingly I asked him whether I was still Fatman. He said I wasn't but he stopped short at calling me Batman! My oldest grandson, whom I've been told was very worried about me, visited me twice, once on his own. I was very touched with his solo visit as no one 'forced' him to come.
During one daily round of doctors - there was always a gaggle of them, many junior doctors following the senior doctor - the doctor told me that I had an enlarged prostate gland making it difficult for my bladder to urinate and making my kidneys work hard. He said that I would need surgery in six months time to cut away bits of my prostate. He said to me that it is a benign and not a malignant cancer but I would be regularly screened before my operation. I have to wait six months for two reasons. One there's a waiting list for this type of surgery - it's the National Health Service (NHS)! And two, my bladder needs time to shrink and regain its strength.
On the Friday the doctor said that I could be discharged that day but my blood test results weren't good - too many white blood cells - so I had to stay in for at least another night. I was determined to get out of the 'lunatic asylum' as I was getting very fed up being zombified either on my bed or on my chair. I kept drinking lots of water so the blood in my shrinking bladder would wash out quicker. I even asked a nurse to dilute my urine but she wasn't having it!
On Saturday, my blood test results improved and I was free to go after I had a lesson in catheter care. I passed the lesson, that's something to add to my curriculum vitae (résumé ) and I was a free man by early Saturday evening. I was looking forward to a good night's sleep.
At home, I have to regularly empty my daytime urine bag strapped to my leg and change that bag weekly. And I have to attach an night-time bag to the daytime bag before I go to sleep. Also I have to drink lots of fluids.
The only 'lunatic' I now I have to deal with is my stepson. He has a habit now of drinking my drinks meant for me! I am comforting or perhaps conning myself that coffee and white wine count as fluids!
My urge to go to the toilet is now more or less normal and my urine has far less blood in it. There's a little discomfort wearing a catheter particularly when I move around as the catheter rubs against my trousers. A nurse explained to me that my body wants to eject the catheter as it's a foreign object.
I have to have my catheter changed every three months, something I am not looking forward to. While at the urology outpatients' department, a few tests will be administered to check on the state of my prostate gland.
The ending of this story won't be know until a few months time. But I'm upbeat and hopeful. Until surgery, my mission is to make catheters and urine bags sexy. Obviously I cannot have sex, not even solo sex, because of the catheter but I still want to feel that I'm a sexy devil! I may not be Batman and I'm certainly not Fatman, but I'm now sexy Catheter Man!
Before I go, I just want to make two observations. First, I am so pleased that this country has the NHS. All what I went through didn't cost me a penny. And second, it's very clear that without migrant workers the NHS would collapse.
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24 comments
Not sure why you are complaining about lunatic asylum. You worked in academia, that is a lunatic asylum. Are you just upset about a return to one?
I didn't have to sleep in the university lunatic asylum!
@spunkycumfun no, one just lives here.
I've had a catheter and experienced walking the halls with my rolling stand. One doctor came in each morning and gave me goals forr the day. Walk 10 laps around the floor. I dutifully shuffled around the floor. Fortunately, I was under anesthesia when it was inserted. Removing it was quick.
Sleeping in the hospital is impossible. I had one roommate. He constantly complained to the nurses and set off the bed alarm a few times. He also asked for the door to be kept open, which added the sounds of the busy floor.
I agree, the nurses are in charge on the floor.
Apart from checking my urine and drinking lots of fluids, I was given no goals on being discharged from hospital.
Not fun for sure. Glad you're home now and at least have the chance of getting a decent nights sleep.
If you said, it escapes me now. What was the root cause of the issue? (Not being nosy really, just looking for tips on avoiding it myself.)
The doctors didn't state a root cause as it could be caused by many factors ranging from genes, lifestyle to ageing. They didn't advise me to stop smoking or drinking wine.
My first reaction was good grief! - but I see that Pony beat me to it. What an ordeal. It’s good your hospital stay was free because it would be adding insult to injury to have to pay for such an experience.
I hope the surgery comes sooner than expected so you can ditch the catheter and bag. Take care!
My experience has certainly reinforced my commitment to the NHS. I even had a district nurse come round to check on me yesterday.
Oh oh oh.
Glad to hear you are safe and (partly) sound at home.
You are lucky to have avoided kidney damage. I hope you manage to get the surgery scheduled in due time and can get back to normal activities soon.
Before coming to this site I was the primary carer for my elderly father. Until I assumed the responsibility, I wasn't up to date on his health as we lived in different countries.
When he suffered a stroke and became non-verbal, I went through my father's handwritten address book to try and locate his doctors and figure out his medical history. Eventually one of the names I contacted turned out to have records of my father having visited the urology clinic. Apparently my father had been dealing with an enlarged prostate for many years but had serious trepidations about going under the knife. So at 90 years old no surgeon was going to put him under anesthesia for the prostate. The catheter and urine bag became his friend, a permanent fixture until his dying day. Actually, the urologist would come to the house monthly to change the tube, perform an ultrasound. I learned all about measuring the daily amounts of urine, assessing the color for kidney health and possible UTI, etc etc. As I mentioned, my father was non-verbal so I and other carers that I eventually hired, had to watch over the urine/prostate situation day and night in his stead.
The reason I am going into all this detail (and believe me I am sparing us all some pretty gory mishaps from time to time)...
Don't hesitate, get the prostate reduction done and save yourself (and your family members) all the trouble decades later. I doubt that medicine will have advanced by then to offer any other solution besides surgery.
One final detail, though:
When the catheter was first administered at the hospital, it had an interesting side effect on my father's prostate, and not only. The first night in the hospital, he kept on waking everyone in the ward with his loud demands for "I want pussy!" That was one of the few things he managed to utter after his stroke. Eventually the other patients and the staff couldn't deal with "I want pussy" all through the night, and they moved my father to a room in the "elite" part of the public hospital, the upper floor with the one patient per en suite room, until he was discharged.
If I ever (knock on wood) end up in the public hospital and am placed amongst the general / lunatic populace, you can bet I will play cray cray and shout "I want dick" all night long until they take me to the first class section.
Thanks for your useful words.
Next time, I now know what to do to get moved to my own private room in a hospital!
Good grief!! Your hospital stay was a nightmare.
As a old nurse, darkness messes with peoples heads. They can be sane during the day and crazy at night. It's not easy. It also does not make for a restful night.
I am sorry you have struggles. It sounds like the docs have a plan. And you are surely smart enough to work the plan.
If you have access to Netflix, there is a limited series called Ratched. It's inspired by Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest.
Big hugs!!
Unfortunately I don't subscribe to Netflix, but I'll watch out for the series if it is shown on another platform.
Goes to show how important healthcare coverage is. What’s happening in America is such a disgrace. We are under siege all the time.
The National Health Service is probably the best thing that's been invented here.
I slept very well in cardiac ICU, staff were awesome, I felt very safe. Had a catheter for almost 3 days, it didn’t bother me a bit. Cuckoo Nest is one of my favorite movies, it’s very real. I was working in psych when the book was released, several of us were reading it and comparing their patients with ours. Even Nurse Ratched worked our unit (I’m not kidding!!). Working psych was some of the best years of my life, but hospital politics are the worst to work under. It was all female and is why I’ll never vote for a female president!!!
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is a great film, probably in my best top ten films. Jack Nicholson was born to play that role.
I am glad your home and still not at the lunatic asylum. It can be very frustrating to stay in the hospital as there are so many different kinds of people there and you never get enough rest.
Please take care of yourself and do everything the doctors have told you to do, and try to stay away from your stepson as I fear he will only make you more agitated. And you need to stay as calm as you can, so that you can fully recover. And I hope all goes well with your upcoming surgery too my friend.
I hope your Monday continues to treat you well.
I'm happy I'm now at home. I'm doing everything the doctors have advised me. I'm an obedient patient!
@spunkycumfun That's good and you need to continue following doctors orders my friend as I would hate to see you end up back in the hospital again!!
@Tmptrzz I can happily report that there's no blood in my urine now after drinking lots of fluids.