Tuesday, 10 August 2010

Page 5 - Emergency Department, Poole NHS Trust Hospital Part 2

I could barely speak, I felt as If my jaw was hanging down.  The ligaments didn’t seem to work, and I had no control of the right side of my face, and jaw. I had fluid sloshing around my right jaw and inner ear area in my skull.

I couldn’t move my neck, or head and was slurring dreadfully. By the way? I still slur and fumble my words today, and no I don't drink (^_~)

I had a few more x-rays, which were arranged after the ER Dr had come to see me.  He only spent a few minutes with me, could barely speak English and did not examine me in any way. 

I was told I would be going to Odstock, Salisbury District Hospital, as my Injuries were far too serious for Poole Hospital to deal with.
It must have been recorded at this stage that I could not move my legs. If it was, it's been removed from my records. There is now only a perfectly hand written record of events. You see they re-write things putting in, and leaving out, what they want left out. If you request your medical records, the request goes through the hospitals Legal-Medico department, who decide exactly what they release and what they lose, hide or destroy.  Their job is to stop you from suing the Dr's and the Hospital, whether you want to or not. They don't care whether you might just want to know what's wrong with you.  Nor do they care whether this hiding and destroying of your medical records means you may die from a further misdiagnosis in the future. They're lawyers, and that's what they do, generally, and literally? They're happy to kill you to cover up previous mistakes.

I spent the afternoon in the Accident & Emergency Department, on my own in a curtained cubicle, going in and out of consciousness.  

During this period another young male nurse came into the cubicle.  He said he was here to remove my nose ring.  Well I was a biker! 
He had an enormous set of red bolt croppers.  The kind a fireman would use.  He actually put them up to my tiny nose ring, before realising how stupid this was. 
I think the two young nurses who were laughing together while undressing me had sent him in as some kind of joke. 
I told him how to remove the ring but he wouldn’t.

At some point the delightful Dr Vinod K Panchbhavi, Orthopaedic Registrar, arrived. 
Having looked at my x-rays, he said he could do the operation on my hands.  So I wouldn’t have to go to Salisbury.  I was quite pleased about this, as I was frightened my husband would be unable to visit me.  I was very confused.  

I have only recently found out Dr Vinod K Panchbhavi was negligent, and left me with  Syrinx in my spine, deviated septum with Dural tears causing Cerebral Spinal Fluid to leak from my nose, a broken and dislocated neck, broken lumbral spine, coccyx, and arachnoid cysts in my sacral spine.   
As well as developing arachnoiditis, and many associated syndromes from all this undiagnosed Injury. None of which I've been able to get diagnosed due to the continuation of this cover up.
I regret not being sent to Odstock, as he also left me with undiagnosed Severe Brain Injury, which was deliberately undiagnosed for another 5 months.  However, everyone at the hospital reassured me that Brain Injury frequently goes undiagnosed. Most people go back to work unawares and lose their jobs, their marriage disintigrates or they just have another crash. Nice to know eh?

My husband had been answering questions from an assistant of some kind.

Dr Vinod K Panchbhavi asked me whether I was right or left handed.  
My husband said I was ambidextrous, and used both hands.  Dr Panchbhavi asked which hand I wrote with, and was told both.  He seemed very cross at this.

As a small child, in class, I had my left arm removed from my cardigan sleeve. I was told not to use my left hand for writing. But had always used both hands.

Dr Panchbhavi told me to choose between having my right or left hand fixed, as he would only be fixing one hand properly.  I was dismayed to hear this and too confused to chose, Alan had to say my right hand.

I was very scared now as I worked in micro electronics, enjoyed art and crafts and my hands were vitally important to me. As important as to a piano player or any artistic person.

Alan was told to go home as I would be going up to the Ward to await my operation. This would take place as soon as the ‘Fixator’ arrived by Motorcycle Courier from Southampton Hospital.  That's always tickled me.
Alan was in a state of complete shock and I will never know how he went to collect his bike from the scene of the accident and rode home.

Alan eventually got home and broke down completely, and couldn’t stop crying.  He had been told nothing and was terrified he was going to lose me.  Apparently, it was big bottles of cheap wine that got him through this night and the first few weeks of my being in hospital.

The Dr or assistant then asked more questions.  I said yet again that I didn’t have a spleen. It was to be another week before someone gave me emergency antibiotics.

I was given a consent form to sign, with shattered hands and after sending my husband home! 
I am astounded at the stupidity of that alone.
I was wheeled up to the Ward.

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