Another Pair Of Eyes

Imminent

I just sat in on a consultation with a lady in which she decided that it was her time to die. She has a metastatic tumour in her brain, and a decision regarding palliative radiotherapy turned into a decision that, actually, further treatment wasn’t what she wanted.

I listened silently as the doctor explained what the likely course of the disease would be. A steady increase in weakness. A progressive decline in mental agility and, eventually, consciousness. That it would not be painful, and that it was a matter of months.

Through it all, this woman sat serenely, facing her ‘imminent end’ as she put it with this incredible dignity. I can only hope that if I am in a similar situation one day that I will be able to manage half the grace that she showed in the face of death. The doctor offered to call her daughters to inform them of her decision. ‘That would be lovely, thank you,’ and there it is. I supposed after 80-odd years you can have lived the life, done what you wanted, and be ready for it to be over.

I looked out of the window and I saw a greying cloudy day, but I can ever-so-easily imagine that, if your days are numbered, it could be one of the most precious things you had. I don’t yet understand how I’d be able to face losing that.

Funny thing, this elective. On the weekends it’s a holiday and during the week it’s something quite separate.

Serenade

We were driving, and the drive was long. We stopped for supplies at a small cafe by the roadside, and got ice-cream (New Zealanders, it turns out, crazy about ice cream. It’s basically their national food, after any form of meat). The ice cream was good, and it was cheap, and our eyes were sated. And we sat upon a fence outside and we consumed the ice cream, and our stomachs were sated. And there was a tour bus, filled with ageing New Zealanders. They asked us from whence we came, and we spoke, and it was the United Kingdom of which we expostulated. And they did say ‘goodness you’re a long way from home, we’re on a mystery day out* with this country singer.’

And they were. And they called out to their group, and their singer, and like a flock they surrounded us, and together they serenaded us with a Maori song. And then they got on the bus, and they drove away.

I bloody love this country.

*a day where you get on a bus with a bunch of people and are transported about to various places to do stuff, but you have no idea in advance what these things might be.

Castaway

So, today – a mere 9 days or so after being put in plaster – my cast has come off. Early mobilisation, they say. No signs of rotational block, they say. Minimal chance of further displacement with (low load), they say.

I say, goddammit yes, I can do stuff again! Cannulation is low-load, venesection and ABGs* the same. Clinical win! Things like showers and getting a coat on and cutting up food need no longer be an awkward mess of angles, and although I can’t drive now I’ll be able to in the next few weeks.

It’s not an immediate return to form, obviously. Elbows stiffen very quickly without use, and I cannot straighten my arm because the muscle is so tight over the joint. Flexing it is easier, but again the full range of movement has been lost. It (should be) temporary but it’s a bizarre feeling of limitation. In addition I am firmly told to spend the majority of my time using one of those slings made of black foamy stuff with straps on to minimise loading movements and to stop me falling into things and leaning on it etc. I’m not supposed to do anything vastly more strenuous than carrying a glass.

But hey. All the above will improve. For now…FREEDOM!!!

*arterial blood gases

NZ

Today I am off to New Zealand and will not return to these shores until October. Been a few occurrences since the last post – I’ve passed my exams, and broken my arm. I’ve done something to my feet, and cannot easily walk. I am pissed off, upset, frustrated, and the excitement of the upcoming weeks is freshly tainted with dread. And I don’t particularly want to talk about it. There’s a lot to this and a great deal of thoughts either way but the upshot is as follows:

• I’m still going to New Zealand. Stop me at your own peril.
• I’m going to have to make some fast friends in the orthopaedics department.
• The airport, and the walking through it, is really going to hurt.
• Research says I may be able to get the cast off soon. I have an unusual fracture that may well require early mobilisation to prevent permanent loss of movement.
• My feet will hopefully recover within a week. If they don’t then they too are fractured, which would mean that there is something other going on.
• The latter scenario is very unlikely.

Basically, nothing is going to plan but I’m hoping that things resolve. I’d write more but typing isn’t the smooth interface you’d hope it to be with one arm out of commission – a lot of things become surprisingly difficult. Wish me luck everyone, because at this rate I’m really going to need it.

Polls

Today, I have been to the polls, and it was…quick. I’ve not voted in a general election before – the last one was when I was 17 and I missed it by a matter of months, so this was my first journey into a polling station ever. It was remarkably relaxed – I’m not sure what I expected really; maybe some strict identification process (or an identification process!) and a row of booths into which people filed to scrawl furtively on their tightly-folded ballots, with the whole process under the watchful gaze of the presiding officer. Apart from the scrawling bit, obviously. Instead, I wandered into a completely empty polling station, handed my polling card to the lady and got my ballots without even having my name checked. The booth was less of a booth and more of a convenient corner created by the cunning placement of flip-charts, and having completed the scrawling process I dropped my ballots off and that was that.

Remarkable.

If you haven’t voted, you should go and do so.

Networking

Morningwin

Well, it’s 7:37 as I start this and I’ve got nothing left to do before I leave for the hospital, because this morning has been such a whirl of efficiency it’s amazing. I’ve prepared or eaten all three meals for today (delete as appropriate), done a load of washing, and washing up, finished section C on my essay and I only got up at half 6.

AND today I’m not going to my usual ward round with Dr. See-no-students but instead I’m going on the neuro rehabilitation unit ward round, which is fascinating and has a brilliant consulant at its head. and then I shall come home and use my enormous pile of textbooks to finish my essay, submit it, and never think about it again. I will be free to focus on learning and revision for the intermediates, and it will be a strange kind of freedom.

Can you tell it’s a sunny morning?

No, that is not my gold car in our driveway.