Sunday, 16 January 2011

Page 17 The Third Operation On My Hands





About a week after leaving hospital Alan took me back to the ward to thank the nurses. 
Some of the younger patients were in the day room, and one shouted 'red dress no knickers', or something like that.
I immediately lifted my dress to show I was wearing knickers.
Something I would never have done before my accident.
As I went to lift my dress, the nurse put her hand out to stop me, just in time.
She then explained to Al that Brain Injury victims often lose their inhibitions and self control.
Proving the hospital and all the nurses knew that I had a brain injury.  

She then changed the dressing on my right hand around my fixator. No one had done this since I left hospital, I think the District Nurse was too frightened.


I went back to hospital on the 1st May for a Day Surgery Assessment, to see if it would be safe for me to come in for the operation and go home the same day. 

Then on the 3rd of May I went back in to hospital for the 3rd operation on my hands. They removed all the ‘k’ wires and fixator, then applied splints to some of my fingers.
They finally plastered my broken right wrist, as well as both hands. 
This was far too late to have any hope of my wrist repairing properly especially after the nurse had re-broken it. 
To this day it’s deformed at an angle to my arm, for instance I can’t hold my hand out for anyone to put change in it etc.
But hey, as I said I was totally oblivious. 

We carried on for a few more weeks fumbling through at home. 
The District Nurse had stopped calling to give me injections and taping up my knee.
Alan was getting used to getting me up, washing and dressing me everyday.  He was still lifting me up the stairs one step at a time.

The scariest thing was when he would take me shopping in a wheelchair. People had no patience and people would lean over my wheelchair to get something off a shelf.  While they were doing this, coats and cardigans would catch on my fixators and ‘k’ wires, or a handbag would fall off a shoulder and hit my hands.

Finally on the 15th May I went back to hospital again to have the plaster removed from my hands and wrists. 

Because of my brain injury I couldn’t understand how the buzz saw thing that they use to cut the plaster off, wouldn’t cut my arm off.  
I could only think of the things we used in the garage when building our bikes, which are pretty lethal.  

Because the hospital were covering up my severe Injuries and TBI, no one knew why I was absolutely terrified, so I was treated like I was being ridiculous.

But then I finally got to see a proper Orthopaedic Consultant, Dr Salter, who remembered seeing me in passing, whilst I was on the Ward, immediately after my accident.

Dr Salter actually looked up from his paperwork, and spoke to me and listened to Alan.  

He was very concerned about my Confusion and inability to communicate, as well as the pain in my back and neck.  

He said he thought I had a much more serious Brain Injury and would be referring me to Neurology so they could assess and help me.   

Alan was very relieved to know this, while I remained oblivious.

Alan collected the remaining disability equipment we'd been sold by the hospital. 

A kettle tipper and bath seat and key holder. 

The tap turners didn’t work, every time he clipped them on they fell off again. 

I was already using sticky blue plastic sheeting under my plates to stop them from moving around. 
As well as the strange adjustable extended eating implements with soft touch grip handles and a spoon or fork on the end. I’d taken these home from hospital with me. No knife, I wasn’t able to use one as I was unable to apply any pressure.  

Alan had to cut my food up for me for another year. Still cuts up things for me now in some cases.

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