Saturday, 28 August 2010

Page 13 The Doziest PhysioTherapist


During the next two weeks in the hospital.  I was repeatedly given Head X-Rays and more X-Rays of my hands.  The hospital were well aware of my Brain Injury, swelling, fluid, Deviated Septum and Broken Neck.  They were just not telling us. 
The nurses told me 'I kept them going, I made it enjoyable to come to work’.  I have never understood why, I had this effect, but pretty much everyone who knows me say the same.  I know it's beyond me too!

I had to wait until the nurses weren’t busy, to be ‘fed’.  They were very good and I didn’t starve.  I couldn't understand the menu so just ate the same every day each week.  It was too complicated, the nurse would read out a few items that you could have for the main course, and by the time she had said the first choice, it had gone from my head.   So I had no ability to choose.  Then God Bless ‘em, they would read out the vegetables etc., that were supposed to go with the main course.  We all gave up, Alan would choose for me and I would have the same every day all that week..  Well, I didn’t know I had the same the day before, I couldn’t remember, so it didn’t really matter.   Again, I was completely oblivious.  

Maurice a male nurse had fun repeatedly giving me my drinks with the straw cut off just below the level of the top of the drink.  So every time I took a sip, I would make a loud slurping noise.  The nurses would have a laugh hiding round the corner to catch me out every time.  I couldn't remember they had done it before.  They nicknamed me 'slurpy'.

Several months later when I eventually got referred to Neurology, this was all explained to us, and I was told that I was a certain number on the Glasgow Coma Scale.  Yep!  There is a scale for it.  I was rated at quite a low number on this scale, low being bad.  Ha! Can’t remember what though.  

Anyway, I digress, over the next few weeks I kept being visited by a young Physiotherapist.  Now this girl was very funny, and I have never been able to understand the intelligence behind this.

I had shattered thumbs and little finger on my left hand.  Most of my other fingers were broken, and some of my hand bones.  Also my right wrist was very badly broken with my hand at 90 degrees to my wrist.  My elbow was also broken too.  My body was totally unstable and I was not unable to stand without some sort of support, hence the physiotherapist.  I had wires down through my left thumb and little finger, with corks on the ends.  I had a fixator with nuts and bolts on my right thumb.

So, please can anyone shed any light on why a physio would bring me crutches to walk with?  Especially considering that Poole Hospital now knew that I also had a broken neck, even if they didn't tell me.  
Now, stop laughing, it doesn’t stop there.  She came back a few days later, with, yes you’ve guessed it, more crutches.  This time, they were the ones that you rest your forearms on and hold the upright handles.  I said, stop laughing.

A few days later again, she came with a walking frame, the type you would have to pick up and place one step in front of you and then take a step.  No, no no, it doesn’t stop there either.  Yep!  She came back again, this time with a walking frame on wheels, with a hand brake lever.   Eventually, she got the message, I think!  Either that or she ran out of options, I will never know.

Then I got a sensible woman, Mary Felder, Physiotherapist, who could not help with my spine instability, but who came armed with the idea of McConnell strapping.  They put this lethal sticky tape across your knee to hold it in place better.  I had a dislocated knee which caused tearing to the cruciate ligaments.  So my kneecap floats about.  It is also now very crunchy like when you crush a bag of crisps, every time I move it.   Anyway, this helped a bit.  But, it ripped all your skin off each time they take it off.  Sore!


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