So while I am still awaiting the call from the hospital for my next suggested course of treatment, I thought I could tell you a little more about the emergency ward at Coimbra University Hospital. I have used the heading ‘De nada!’ as this was the most frequently expressed two-word sentence in the hospital. It means “You are welcome” in Portuguese or more literally “Nae problem.” Every time the medical staff did something for me, I would thank them by saying, “Obrigado,” it was always swiftly answered with “De nada.”
The Ward
The layout of the ward, as can be seen in the picture I took on the left, is roughly rectangular with beds set round all the walls except in the door space on the East and West. I counted roughly 18 beds/gurneys. The control console was in the middle where all the necessary PPE, medicines, washing bays, oxygen bottles and whatever else is needed to run an emergency ward was available. The console has duplicate sides one facing north and one facing south. On each side stood the “big boss”. I am sure he was a senior nurse but the role here was supervisory. The one overseeing my area reminded me of an army sergeant major. One item, no matter how small, out of place or any one patient not getting what he considered proper attention, would instantly catch his beady eye. Few words were needed to instigate instant action. As you will also see in the picture, sometimes due to numbers, extra beds were taking up the passageway space.
This configuration allowed the medical staff to attend to any patient immediately. There was rarely any time a nurse was no more than four strides away from any bed. There were a lot of nurses and orderlies - I just could not work out the total number. Under the manager there was obviously your typical matron or senior nurse, then nurses, orderlies and others. There was no noise other than that made by patients and machines. As, and when you require a scan, x-ray or other treatment, you are swiftly wheeled away on your gurney to the required room or department, which all seems to be on the same floor. The ground floor. There were about 5 computer stations around the ward as every action and or medication administered is recorded in real-time. As a simple farmer, I was impressed with their management system. You receive a copy printout of those events on being discharged.
Unfortunately, you cannot see your monitors as they face the central console and are behind you. But the alarms you do hear. Mine went off a number of times, 50% of these were probably down to me moving or shifting, consequently causing a tube, wire or contactor being separated from some part of my body.
Every 2 hours or so the “sergeant major” would get his nursing staff together and they would walk around the patients in his area discussing the ailments and ongoing treatment of each individual patient. I soon noticed in the company of Portuguese speaking patients they almost whispered when they conferred, but when they got to me, they talked normally as my Portuguese is not up to much and certainly not capable of comprehending medical terms. They quickly had this figured out. A team of doctors also did these rounds but less frequently.
Many of the staff have worked in the UK or other EU countries. All seemed very young, but I suppose that is relative to my age. Mind you, when the doctor supervising me went out to brief Rozanne, who unfortunately had to sit in the car, in the car park most of the day, later told me about the young ”intern” who had spoken to her. So even to her, the doctors seemed young. The younger staff and most of the doctors mercifully spoke English.
Aladdin's Lamp
I began to wonder why I needed to pee every 30 minutes or so. What was my problem? I finally asked after about my fifth pee. “Oh, we have administered a medicine to empty you of fluids." All I had to do was point to my middle for a pee bottle to appear almost instantly. This bottle was something that resembled what I can only describe as “Aladdin's lamp” except, it was plastic and what went in, also came out the single spout. How I would have loved to have one of these on my many lengthy light aircraft flights over Africa. I do not know why this is not a prerequisite for small planes. No solution for the ladies though. Of course, some of the patients had more serious waste to pass, but this was also handled in the same cheerful manner.
As Rozanne had been told - they would either have had to operate on me that night or at the very least, would only admit me once I had undergone the CT scan. Awaiting the last outstanding procedure - the CT scan, Rozanne was instructed to go home. No sooner had she just sat down to a nice glass of wine with our neighbours; they then called her to come back to collect me as they had now done the CT scan. My heart needed some time to recover so that I would be able to withstand the operation. I was fortunate enough to be allowed to recuperate at home. After some instruction on my medication, including how to inject myself - I was released.
The Alien
Of interest, this tumour moves around. It can be on the left side of the stomach, the upper part or right side all within a few hours. Because of this, Rozanne believes it is an “alien”. She has clearly been watching too many sci-fi movies. Also, it now appears she has been trying to drown me. I am allowed 1.5 litres of liquids a day under my present regime and it is amazing how fast our liquids mount up. Try factoring in your yoghurt, soup, custard, jelly etc. We certainly underestimated our fluid intake now that it is being monitored closely. Before you know it, you're over the limit with a few cups of tea thrown in. Rozanne’s mantra has always been, “drink more water, it is good for you.”
I have always considered myself an average “farter”. I know this from attending boarding school and being in the army. My son has also always put me to shame. But now with the assistance of the “alien”, I have moved up a league in this department.
I have had lots of support and offers of advice. Most of it is very encouraging. My sister-in-law, Anna, is a consulting nurse specialising in heart failure in Australia. She told me I could get rid of as much as 10kgs (10 litres) of fluid. I do not know how much I lost on the first day in hospital, but as I was not allowed to eat or drink, or receive intravenous liquids along with the number of pees I had, I must have lost 3 or 4 litres. Since Tuesday, using the scale as a way of monitoring myself, I have lost another 8kgs. This is by far the most effective diet I have been on and would be happy to share the name of the drug for a small consideration!! Anyway, Anna’s advice and imparted knowledge has been very comforting.
The GIST
One of many people to offer me comfort was my wonderful friend Yasser in New York. Not only his own personal words of comfort but also the following from a third party. He informs me, he has a cousin who specialises in GIST (Gastrointestinal Stromal Tumour) treatment. Remember, it is just suspected that it is a GIST, they will only know for sure if and when they remove it. Anyway, his cousin said if you were to have a cancer tumour, a GIST would be his tumour of choice. Only later I wondered if this was similar in the event you were going to get a punch and asked, “Would you prefer a jab to the face or an uppercut?”
By the way, I have mentioned the good guys by name and will try and avoid any embarrassment by not mentioning the not so good guys by name. So far on this journey, I have still to meet one within the latter category. On that note - until next time.
Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.
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