Well then… It would be fair to say that I am furious. My head is hot and my eyes are evil. Having prepared myself for a discharge home today, I was informed early in the morning that I may be transferred to another hospital for a consultation on my back. This was confirmed at 13:30hrs. At 18:30hrs I was transferred from UCH to the National Hospital for Neurology and Neurosurgery in a very bumpy ambulance. The perfect transportation for any modern gal with a fractured vertebra. Upon arrival, I asked for some pain relief. I am not allowed any meds until I have seen the doctor. I have not seen the doctor yet. It is 21:00hrs.
I do not like this hospital.
I do not know why I am here. Is it for pain relief? Do I need an operation? What colour socks is my doctor wearing? Why can’t I go home and get my head around my diagnosis before I start my treatment? Why has a doctor not told me? What is a doctor? Why am I drinking lukewarm tap water? When am I going to get my drugs? Why did a man with a nappy rash just walk by my bed in his boxers? Why? Why? Why?
All I know is that they are not concerned about an imminent collapse of the bone. I guess that is a good thing.
In other news, Mamma and Middlesborough were good eggs in the ambulance.