Memories of Kelsall as a 10 year old: Part two HOSPITALS, a tour of North West hospitals
Blog #1 – Whiston Hospital: Tonsilitis – a cruel ending
When my sister and I were about 5 and 7 respectively (and
living in Kelsall), we were diagnosed with tonsilitis. Personally, I think I
had it, and my parents just thought they would go for a block booking to avoid
future hassle; so, we were both booked into Whiston Hospital in Prescott.
The stay there was unremarkable, apart from a VERY
sore throat and the staff being unspeakably cruel before allowing us to leave.
On the day we were to be discharged, there was a condition
that we had to undergo before being allowed to leave. They insisted we ate an
ice lolly first!
I remember crying constantly as they effectively force fed
me this tortuous concoction, which hurt like hell on my VERY sore throat
(I had just had an operation remember!); but after eventually finishing the
lolly (about 15 minutes later), they let us go home.
Blog #2 – Chester Royal Infirmary: Scarred for Life
This picture of the Smithy (next door to Dick’s house) does
predate my time there (I don’t remember a horse & carriage – other than the
rag & bone man who had one). Behind the Smithy was a scrap yard with bits
of broken metal, but most intriguingly, a large stone wheel (presumably it had
previously been used for grinding). I would often climb to the top of the wheel and then slide down it. Once however, I did this but fell off, landing on
some broken glass, resulting in a large “V” shaped cut on my knee; the flap of
skin was hanging down and blood pouring out. Luckily, I knew the mum one of my other
friends was a nurse, so dashed to her, just a few doors away. She tended to
me, calling my mum & ordered an ambulance to take me to A&E to get it
sorted out. A doctor got me to sit on the end of a bed with my legs dangling
down and cleaned up the wound. He then said he was going to inject some pain
relief into the wound before stitching it up. However, as soon as the needle
touched the wound, my leg shot involuntary upwards and I don’t know if that
doctor ever had children after this! He did however manage to complete the job
(after a short recovery break [for him]) & consequently I am now “scarred
for life”.
Blog #3 – Booth Hall Children’s Hospital: Epilepsy
At about the age of 8 I was diagnosed with Epilepsy. It was
thought to be hereditary as my mother had it as a youngster. She never had any
fits from about the age of 20, but religiously took medication throughout her
life for the condition (just in case). Her sister though also had the condition
and continued having Grand Mal-Clonic seizures (losing consciousness and shaking
or jerking parts of the body) until she eventually died at the age of
67.
I started out with just Myoclonic seizures (Short
jerking in parts of the body). This seemed very minor at the time as I
would just lose control of my left leg, which would shake uncontrollably,
sometimes causing me to fall over (but not always); I would often be able to
lower myself to the ground and then just sit and wait for my leg to stop
shaking – then get up and carry on as normal.
I referred to these as “funny feelings” and was sometimes
called “rubber leg” in the playground.
Because of my mums’ history, I was referred to Booth Hall
Children’s Hospital in Blackley, where I went every 6 months for tests and medication reviews. My consultant was a lovely elderly Austrian gentleman with
a heavy accent, but he always took an interest in me.
I remember once having an EEG test at one of these reviews
and actually had a seizure whilst they were running tests. I was over the moon
thinking now they can diagnose what was causing them and I would be cured. Life
is never that simple however, is it?
At about the age of 12, I had my first Grand Mal
Tonic-Clonic seizure, where I fell to the ground, my whole body shook
uncontrollably and I wet myself; unfortunately, I didn’t lose consciousness and
it frightened the life out of me. It happened at a Delamere Country Fair, with
all my friends and family present, so it was also pretty embarrassing.
Luckily (??), this was also my last Grand Mal where I didn’t
lose consciousness (I didn’t stop having them, but they were less frightening
(for me) if I was unconscious).
I regularly had seizures whilst at Grammar School, but after
a while, everyone (me included) would get quite blasé about them. It was not
uncommon for me to wake up (at school), alone, lying on a bench in the Gym
changing rooms, feeling a bit groggy. I would change my trousers (always
carried a spare), figure out the time, and then go to the appropriate lesson. A
teacher might say “glad you could re-join us Mr. Cooper”, whilst a classmate
might say “You didn’t half take a bite out of that cricket stump (plimsol, or
whatever came to hand) that we stuck in your mouth”
I mentioned that my consultant always took an interest in
me, to the extent he never referred me to an “adult” hospital. One of my more
embarrassing meetings with him was when he finally discharged me; I was 22 and
my WIFE had driven me to the appointment at a “children’s” hospital!
By now I was concerned that the medication was doing me more
harm than good, so I independently decided to stop taking the medication (by
this time I was only having 1 or 2 seizures per year, from a peak of maybe 10 a
day).
I knew I wasn’t allowed to drive until I had not had a
seizure for 3 years, so imagine my disappointment as I twice went over 2 years
without a seizure. However, by the time I was about 29, I did manage to learn
to drive; only delayed by the fact it took me 3 attempts to pass my test!
Happily, I can confirm I have not had any seizures in over
40 years.
P.S. An ex-colleague of mine had a brother with Epilepsy, and every Spring he would issue an e-mail, looking for sponsorship for his half-marathon attempt in aid of the David Lewis National Epilepsy Centre. The e-mail subject was always “Free Beer”, to ensure everyone read it!
Blog #4 – Countess of Chester: Broken elbow – or two
Once at primary school I had a seizure in the playground
that was quite severe and caused me to fall over; as a result, I broke my right
elbow and was taken to the Countess of Chester hospital where I stayed for
about 3 weeks.
One morning I had to go to X-ray to see if the elbow was
healing. This being the early 60’s, we had a regime to follow after lunch. Us
children were expected to have a nap after lunch; this being “code” for the
nurses having a cup of tea and some biscuits whilst we slept.
Can you imagine nowadays expecting 6-10 year-olds to
have a nap at about 2pm?
We rarely slept though at this time and invented games we
could play while staying in our beds. One of these was to roll a tennis ball
between the beds up and down the ward. Whilst it was a children’s ward, these
were full size beds and quite high if you are only 8. Consequently, when
leaning down to catch a ball, I fell out of bed. Back down to X-ray, to be met
with “what are you doing back here?”
Low and behold, I had broken my left elbow! Imagine how
proud my parents were that night to be met with the sight of me grinning, with BOTH
my arms in slings!
Blog #5 – Chester Royal Infirmary (again!): Broken Femur & Pelvis
Once during an Easter break (age 12), I was playing with a
tennis ball on the drive, when the ball rolled under the gate and across the main
Chester Road (A54). There was a lorry parked by the gate, so I went to the
front, looked round the lorry, saw nothing and started to cross. I was hit by a
car and knocked to the other side of the road (near my tennis ball!),
fracturing my femur and pelvis, then taken to Chester Royal Infirmary for 8
weeks! I was on a men’s ward, with my right leg in traction for 6 weeks. I was
operated on, and a silver rod (they had no stock of stainless steel) inserted
down the side of the femur to help the bone knit under traction. 50 years
later, my hip surgeon said it was barbaric that I had been given traction. I
was told the rod would remain there for life!!!
Whilst on the ward I met a nurse (now Staff nurse) who had
tended me during the “broken elbow(s)” incident. She was however ribbed
mercilessly by the other patients. Oulton Park (motor bike racing) was nearby
and one of the riders was admitted with a broken leg. The other patients
noticed that this patient seemed to require attention by the same nurse more
often than anyone else, and always with the screens around the bed!
I also had a huge life lesson whilst on the ward. The ward
had a balcony overlooking Chester Racecourse whilst the Chester Races were on.
We had a Sweep Stake on the main race on the ward, where I had the two
favourites and last year’s winner. Needless to say, I didn’t even get a place,
but thankfully this put me off horse racing for life.
During my rehabilitation at home, I was regularly picked up
by ambulance and taken to hospital for physiotherapy. There was another lad
(about my age, in a wheelchair) who was often also picked up at the same time.
He lived on a farm, and I remember once we plotted on the way back. As the
ambulance men took him in his wheelchair back to the farmhouse, I would sneak
out of the ambulance (on crutches) and head for where the lad told me the hose
pipe was kept. Resulting in a water fight between us and the ambulance drivers!
As a footnote I must add that nine months after the surgery, I
was called back to have the silver rod removed. Apparently if a stainless steel
one had been used, I would still have it; but they wanted their silver one
back!
Blog #6 – Northwich Victoria Hospital: Sliced top off thumb
I was 14 and it was the last day of school before breaking
up for the summer holidays. My dad was coming to pick me up after school to
take me and my newly completed coffee table home. Lessons were fairly informal
that day and I was in a corridor chatting with some friends with my right hand
on the (open) door jamb when someone shut the door; my thumb was trapped, and
blood was pouring out. I calmly walked to the staff room, knocked, and asked to
speak to someone about First Aid. Mr. Sumner (English teacher) came to the door,
and I presented him with my bleeding thumb; he promptly fainted! Luckily,
another less squeamish teacher came to my aid and arranged for me to get to the
local Northwich Victoria hospital. An ambulance duly came to take me to the
hospital and just as we were leaving, my dad arrived. Nothing phased him
however by this time (he was used to my mishaps by then), so he picked up the
coffee table and followed the ambulance to hospital.
It was a pretty miserable summer holiday as I couldn’t do
anything with this HUGE bandage on my thumb for 6 weeks!
Regarding the coffee table, this lasted until I went to
college; it wasn’t particularly well made, but it was a symbol of achievement, and
disappointment! At the start of the school year, we were asked to choose (from
a very short list) what we would spend a year making. Nothing really stood out,
so I chose the coffee table. Imagine my disappointment when a couple of lads
who had delayed their decision were given the (additional) option of making a CROSSBOW!
I WANT ONE! But I wasn’t allowed to change my mind.
P.S. The coffee table complemented a wooden raffia stool and metal cord stool I had made during previous hospital stays!
Blog #7 – Leighton Hospital: Appendicitis
Whilst at college in Alsager (teacher training) I was
experiencing some persistent stomach pains (right side), so went to see the GP.
He said to lower my trousers and lie on my stomach whilst he donned some
plastic gloves(??). I was then to discover the unorthodox method GPs had for
diagnosing appendicitis; now that was a surprise.
I was then sent to Leighton hospital to have my appendix
removed (thankfully, in a more orthodox fashion!). It was a relatively short
stay, but at least I managed to read The Hobbit for the first time.
Blog #8 – Leighton Hospital (again!): Glandular Fever
Still at Alsager, but now studying for a science degree.
·
As a “scientist” the subjects I enjoyed had
right or wrong equations or formulas. It was a bit of a shock to discover
Sociology, Philosophy and Psychology which were much more subjective. It seemed
that there were many different ways of looking at these subjects, but unless
you agreed with the tutor, you were wrong. I couldn’t handle this, so changed
to a science degree.
·
At the end of the first term of teacher
training, we had a teaching practice. Mine was in a local primary school (named
after the inventor of the Spitfire R.J. Mitchell). I realised I probably wasn’t
cut out for teaching here. There was a bully in my class of 9-year-olds who was
getting on my wick with his persistent bullying of his classmates. One day at
break, I got him up against a wall (feet off the ground) and he agreed being on
the other side of bullying was not a pleasant experience. His bullying did seem
to reduce, but perhaps this non-PC approach would not be sanctioned long term!
Back to the subject. I was feeling fairly listless and
couldn’t concentrate on anything, so went back to the GP (with some
trepidations, as you can imagine!). This time I was diagnosed with Glandular
Fever and was sent back to Leighton. There was some kudos with getting
diagnosed with Glandular Fever, as this was also known informally as the
“kissing disease”.
Another couple of weeks in hospital; again uneventful, but
at least (following a theme) I managed to finish the Lord of the Rings trilogy.
Blog #9 – Stepping Hill Hospital: Gag reflex!
Now living in Stockport, one night we had some fresh fish
for tea; unfortunately, I discovered it was not properly filleted. I had a fish
bone stuck in my throat and no matter how hard I tried gargling to get rid of
it, it remained in plaice (get it?). I eventually went to Stepping Hill
Hospital A&E to see if they could shift it. They however also struggled, as
apparently, I have a very strong gag reflex; every time they tried to grab it,
I just gagged, and they couldn’t get a grip.
Eventually they gave up and decided I needed a general
anaesthetic so they could have any easier time trying to grab it. I was only
out for about 5 minutes, but they did retrieve it. However, because I had had a
general anaesthetic, they made me stay overnight.
I must admit, I did milk this. I claimed to be groggy with a
very sore throat after the “operation” and managed to get 2 days off work. Not
my most auspicious experience, but everyone has skived off sometime (haven’t
they?).
Blog #10 – Stepping Hill Hospital (again!): Broken wrist – what a save!
Still living in Stockport but working in Altrincham. 2 doors
down from the office was a pub where we played darts or pool some lunchtimes.
We even held Christmas competitions where I managed to win the Pool trophy a
couple of times (but never Darts – damn you Spaff!)
We were fairly health conscious though and would often use
the local Leisure Centre for badminton or 5-a-side football at lunchtime. Once,
when playing in goal during a 5-a-side match, I made a wondrous save from a
thunderbolt of a close-range shot. Subsequent saves however were very painful
on my right wrist.
On the way home I thought I would stop in at A&E
(again!) to get it checked out. Low and behold, I had broken my right wrist.
Considering my history (see previous blogs), this also resulted in getting my
first plaster cast. I was advised not to drive but ignored this (if it was my
left hand, I wouldn’t have been able to change gear).
I carried on working though (no more skiving for me!); my
handwriting had never been brilliant, but certainly worsened when wearing the
cast; plus, it was very slow typing with only my left hand.
Blog #11 – Stepping Hill Hospital (yet again!): Hip Replacement
Now living in Whaley Bridge; after a couple of years of
increasing pain in my right groin and consequent difficulty walking, it was
suggested I needed a hip replacement. This was (just) pre-pandemic and within a
couple of months my operation was scheduled. I attended a pre-op. seminar, had
some blood tests, and then came the big day of the operation. I was prepped and
waiting nervously on a bed in the theatre waiting room.
About 6 others with me all went to theatre, and I seemed to
be the last, but still nothing was happening. Eventually, the consultant came
and said my operation was postponed for 2 days. Apparently, the blood tests had
indicated an issue with my anti-bodies and the consultant wanted an additional
blood specialist (and machine) to be available in case of any problems.
2 days later the operation went ahead as planned,
successfully. The anaesthetist gave me the option of staying conscious during
the operation or being spark out; I very firmly told him I wanted to be spark
out! The consultant only complained that my right leg was VERY heavy,
making the operation more onerous for him. When moved up to the ward, I was
delighted to discover I had been allocated a single room (with its own
bathroom), instead of a standard 4 bed ward; I felt special!
I was only in for about 4 days, but then had to endure 6
weeks of using dining chairs rather than armchairs and a high bed (to reduce
acute angles between hip and leg); plus, no driving.
The biggest plus I had after these 6 weeks, was being able
to sit in my reclining armchair; sad, aren’t I?
Blog #12 – Bundle: Memory issues – Dementia?
For a couple of years, I had been concerned that my memory
was getting worse. Eventually I saw my GP who recommended a CT Scan, to be
followed up with a consultation with a memory clinic. I duly went to Stepping
Hill to have the CT Scan; I got the report straight away (which seemed to
indicate Vascular Dementia may be an issue), then waited a few months for an
audio consultation with a Memory Assessment Service in Derby. They felt the CT
Scan was inconclusive and recommended an MRI Scan and Psychologist report.
After moving back to Kelsall, I then had the MRI Scan (at
Chesterfield Royal Hospital) and awaited a psychologist appointment; I was told
this may take a further 12 months. I requested that the Memory Assessment
Service consultant review the MRI scan, without the Psychologist report, as I
felt uncomfortable with waiting a further 12 months (under a cloud) for a
diagnosis. This was agreed, and an audio consultation appointment made (just
before Christmas 2021).
Thankfully, the MRI Scan was fine. As part of the audio
reviews, I had mentioned that I had cracked my head on the (metal) garage door
just before the CT Scan; this seemed to explain the anomaly in that report
(which had suggested a small lesion on the brain). By the time I had the MRI
Scan, this lesion had almost healed and there was no other cause for concern.
So, in summary, I DO NOT have Dementia or
Alzheimer’s; my memory issues are just those naturally associated with getting
older. I can live with that 😊;
what a wonderful Christmas present to get that written report after the consultation
and to be able to stop worrying, 9 months after that original CT Scan.
SUNSHINE BAND 002
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