On The Ward.

So I was 21 at the time. I was taken up to an elderly ward which had people suffering from dementia, amputee’s and the elderly. I was the only person under the age of 60, I told my parents to go home as they had huge bags under their eyes and to come back when the doctors came on the ward for rounds. I have seen and been around a lot of scary thing before in hospitals, but I was scared, emotional, high as a kite, lost and all I could hear were people screaming, calling out for people, and crying. I was a little shaken up, But a little later two young girls were also brought up to the ward. These girls were like little lights for me, we became friends taking to each other from our beds, sharing books, snacks and talking about what was going on. One of them had been in and out of hospital for months, and the other one had been brought up here because she had been having headaches and blackouts and again no one knew what was going on. We were all in the same boat and we had each other once visiting times were over.

Finally the doctors came round and one was the man from the past night, he was awesome he said that he was going to sort eveything out and get all the scans done today. So I felt hopeful, he also gave us the good news that the shadow in my lung wasn’t lung cancer and wasn’t a PE. AMEN! some good news.

Skip a few days ahead, the clot buster hadn’t worked, I hadn’t been taken down for any scans, I was still in pain and my parents were starting to put on their parenting shoes and kick up a stint. Which I am glad they did, because this young doctor who just came by twice a day and said how is the pain, have you checked your breast recently ( which I had and hadn’t noticed anything) But after asking a few questions like this I started to clock that they were scanning for more than just this clot. They were trying to find out what could have caused it, and as I don’t tick any of the boxes for the reasons someone would find themselves with a blood clot, one of the main things is cancer. So I started to put everything together. My parent’s would walk away with the doctors look at the scans and ask them questions were I wasn’t able to hear them.

Finally after a week, still in pain no answers, they finally gave me scans and found nothing but the clots. Which was a good thing. They said there was nothing more I could do and would send me to see a Blood Specialist. By this time I was pulling my hair out. WHY could they not find anything. Then a pin dropped, that because I was sent away from hospital the first time because they said it couldn’t have been a clot, it had now gone past the time where they were able to vacuum the clot out of me. Now I was starting to feel angry and was ready to scream, cry and every emotion under the sun. But my friends did come and see me in hospital and brought some sunshine and laughter into my dreadful week.

So they sent me home and told me to wait for the letter to come to see the blood doctor and a vascular surgeon. I didn’t have cancer, I couldn’t have the clots taken out, they were not sure why I got them oh and ‘We don’t know what else to do for you’. I was grateful I was going home because I didn’t want to stay here another moment if they couldn’t help me. My patience started here, and I would certainly need it with what was about to come.


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