The day I nearly met my maker……

Thursday 9/3/17 – I awoke wishing I hadn’t.  I felt worse than ever.   The health assistant came round to give me a wash,  every time I moved I felt sick,  every inch of my body hurt. They aspirated the tube and the output was less ”See, said then nurse,  it’s reducing ‘ making me feel like a hypochondriac.   I got back into bed and fell asleep.  I had no energy whatsoever and couldn’t even pick my phone up to message my daughter.  I remember thinking a week ago how I’d felt well enough to scrub the kitchen floor.  We have a really annoying rough tiled floor which is such high maintenance with a husband who tends to drop bits of food then walk in said bits.   But I remember the Thursday before I came into hospital I felt well,  had energy and cleaned our little bungalow to an inch of its life.   Now I lay in bed feeling like badness had encompassed me,  that something was choking me and no one believed me.  The same health assistant came some time later to do my obs.  My temperature was 39.9 – 104* in old money.  My sats were 93 and my BP high,  my heart racing.  A more senior nurse was called and she called a doctor.  The doctor came and took some bloods,  sepsis was mentioned. I was afraid,  they just gave me paracetamol until the blood results came through.

Later that afternoon my husband had arrived and I lay on the bed feeling like I was dying.  About 4 o’clock I think it was,  I sat up and could not breathe.  Literally gasping for breath. Stephen hit the buzzer and the nurse came in and said I was having a panic attack,  the anxious patient label obviously at the forefront of her mind.  She said I should not be in a side room as I spent too much time dwelling on things.  I wanted her to shut up and help me.  Stephen asked her to please get a doctor.  They did my obs – my SATS were 73 and she panicked – buzzers were pressed and almost instantly a team of doctors and nurses descended,  they gave me oxygen but I couldn’t maintain it so the mask was strapped to my face.  Stephen,  poor poor Stephen, was ushered out.  I remember seeing BFG and the nurse but everyone else in that room were strangers,  heroes,  fighting to save me.  With the mask on my SATS stabilised but my heart rate was too high.  They were shouting instructions to each other about the next step and I heard Crash trolley being summoned.  I remained conscious throughout.  The minute they took the mask away,  my SATS plummeted.  I heard the words cardiac arrest mentioned.  This was brutal, grasping, savage – don’t let it end like this please.  I was whisked through the corridors of the hospital at a great speed of notts and headed for ICU where the fight to save me would continue……..

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