Treatment at Airedale

TREATMENT

AIREDALE HOSPITAL

Most of Friday 26th March 2011 I had felt unwell, as the day progressed my condition deteriorated. Then, at teatime I removed my sweater and found my left arm bright red and extremely warm to the touch, the same symptoms as the two previous Cellulitis infections.

It was just eight o'clock when I arrived at Airedale Hospital A & E department. Following triage I eventually passed to a reception room where a nurse and two doctors succeeded in inserting a Cannula into my right arm on about the eighth or ninth attempt. From here I was transferred to ward fifteen, admissions. It was now eleven o'clock and my treatment of antibiotics commenced. The following evening I was asked to collect up my belongings as I was to be moved to ward one. I inquired about this ward to be informed that it was "short term medical".

As the porter pushed open the door to ward one, the smell that greeted me was one of "old people". Turning sharp left we found our way obstructed by an elderly patient doing tight turns round his walking stick, totally oblivious to our presence. Having been on the ward only a short time it appeared that most of its occupants were either geriatric or dementia patients. The patient in the adjacent bed appeared to be in a different category. His ramblings of time spent in India, assisting in open-heart surgery, and finally that he was going home "when his Zeppelin arrived", indicated that he too was in the wrong ward. I asked a nurse which were the "short term medical beds", "you are in one " she explained.

Late Sunday night before lights out I visited the toilet before settling down. Returning to the ward, a nurse cautioned me about going to the toilet during in the night, as the patient in the adjacent bed had a tendency to wander at night and was also incontinent.

Between two and three o'clock in the morning I was abruptly awaken by the agitated shouting of the patient in the bed directly across, "go away go away", "get out", "what are you doing here" several times. A moment later the curtains at the bottom of my bed were thrown back and a very large man unaccompanied confronted me, dressed in shirt and jeans and shining a torch in my eyes. Not a word was spoken. I immediately associated his appearance with the shouting from the other patient. I froze, terrified. He proceeded to move down the right-hand side of the bed, I now felt very vulnerable. His arm moved forwards as if to strike my face, I can't explain the fear of that moment. Fortunately his arm passed above my head, he appeared to grip a connector on the electrical plate above the bed, he then turned and left without a single word being spoken. Next, from behind the curtain at the bottom of my bed appeared the patient from the adjacent bed. (After speaking to the occupant of the bed directly across the following morning, it transpired that the patient from my adjacent bed had pushed down between the wall and his bed and was attempting to urinate into one of his containers.) It later transpired that the person at the bottom of my bed was a maintenance technician called in to rectify a fault on the nurse call system.

For quite sometime I lay in bed afraid to move. I eventually summand up enough courage to venture to the nurses station to complain. I was very upset and stressed and possibly said things that would have been wise to have been left unsaid. I did apologise to the ward sister later that morning. I returned to bed and lay there unable to sleep, then from down the passage came a mournful call for "help", repeated every few seconds. The sluice room was directly opposite my bay, and the nurses began to go in and out, every time the door closed with a bang the patient in the adjacent bed would call out "come in" while the other patient wandered up the passage was calling "help". I was unable the sleep the rest of the night, and by five in the morning I had my bag packed and was ready for home.

About six in the morning nurses began to move around the ward, I had my BP measured 168 over 102. A little high for me, but then "what a night", as more staff appeared on the ward I had a distinct feeling of being "persona non grata" so I decided to have breakfast in the restaurant and waste some time before morning rounds. Before leaving the ward I called at the nurse's station to let them know I was going for breakfast. There were no nurses present.

On my return I was confronted by a nurse who "demanded" to know were I'd been. I explained, and was sharply told that I must inform a nurse before leaving the ward in future, I told her that had there been a nurse on duty then I could have informed her. Shortly after this acrimonious exchange the Doctor appeared on her rounds, she explained that my IV antibiotics was now complete and that I would be required to spend another twenty four hours on the ward while continuing with antibiotics in tablet form. I told her I did not intend staying on the ward any longer and wished to go home. My discharge was then signed. Before leaving I had a long talk with the ward sister about the night events, and agreed that I would not make a formal complaint, she in turn would have a word with both the nurses and maintenance. Which was possibly the best outcome I could hope for.


	TREATMENT at AIREDALE HOSPITAL Most of Friday 26th March 2011 I had felt unwell, as the day progressed my condition deteriorated. Then, at teatime I removed my sweater and found my left arm bright red and extremely warm to the touch, the same symptoms as the two previous Cellulitis infections. It was just eight o'clock when I arrived at Airedale Hospital A & E department. Following triage I eventually passed to a reception room where a nurse and two doctors succeeded in inserting a Cannula into my right arm on about the eighth or ninth attempt. From here I was transferred to ward fifteen, admissions. It was now eleven o'clock and my treatment of antibiotics commenced. The following evening I was asked to collect up my belongings as I was to be moved to ward one. I inquired about this ward to be informed that it was "short term medical". As the porter pushed open the door to ward one, the smell that greeted me was one of "old people". Turning sharp left we found our way obstructed by an elderly patient doing tight turns round his walking stick, totally oblivious to our presence. Having been on the ward only a short time it appeared that most of its occupants were either geriatric or dementia patients. The patient in the adjacent bed appeared to be in a different category. His ramblings of time spent in India, assisting in open-heart surgery, and finally that he was going home "when his Zeppelin arrived", indicated that he too was in the wrong ward. I asked a nurse which were the "short term medical beds", "you are in one " she explained. Late Sunday night before lights out I visited the toilet before settling down. Returning to the ward, a nurse cautioned me about going to the toilet during in the night, as the patient in the adjacent bed had a tendency to wander at night and was also incontinent. Between two and three o'clock in the morning I was abruptly awaken by the agitated shouting of the patient in the bed directly across, "go away go away", "get out", "what are you doing here" several times. A moment later the curtains at the bottom of my bed were thrown back and a very large man unaccompanied confronted me, dressed in shirt and jeans and shining a torch in my eyes. Not a word was spoken. I immediately associated his appearance with the shouting from the other patient. I froze, terrified. He proceeded to move down the right-hand side of the bed, I now felt very vulnerable. His arm moved forwards as if to strike my face, I can't explain the fear of that moment. Fortunately his arm passed above my head, he appeared to grip a connector on the electrical plate above the bed, he then turned and left without a single word being spoken. Next, from behind the curtain at the bottom of my bed appeared the patient from the adjacent bed. (After speaking to the occupant of the bed directly across the following morning, it transpired that the patient from my adjacent bed had pushed down between the wall and his bed and was attempting to urinate into one of his containers.) It later transpired that the person at the bottom of my bed was a maintenance technician called in to rectify a fault on the nurse call system. For quite sometime I lay in bed afraid to move. I eventually summand up enough courage to venture to the nurses station to complain. I was very upset and stressed and possibly said things that would have been wise to have been left unsaid. I did apologise to the ward sister later that morning. I returned to bed and lay there unable to sleep, then from down the passage came a mournful call for "help", repeated every few seconds. The sluice room was directly opposite my bay, and the nurses began to go in and out, every time the door closed with a bang the patient in the adjacent bed would call out "come in" while the other patient wandered up the passage was calling "help". I was unable the sleep the rest of the night, and by five in the morning I had my bag packed and was ready for home. About six in the morning nurses began to move around the ward, I had my BP measured 168 over 102. A little high for me, but then "what a night", as more staff appeared on the ward I had a distinct feeling of being "persona non grata" so I decided to have breakfast in the restaurant and waste some time before morning rounds. Before leaving the ward I called at the nurse's station to let them know I was going for breakfast. There were no nurses present. On my return I was confronted by a nurse who "demanded" to know were I'd been. I explained, and was sharply told that I must inform a nurse before leaving the ward in future, I told her that had there been a nurse on duty then I could have informed her. Shortly after this acrimonious exchange the Doctor appeared on her rounds, she explained that my IV antibiotics was now complete and that I would be required to spend another twenty four hours on the ward while continuing with antibiotics in tablet form. I told her I did not intend staying on the ward any longer and wished to go home. My discharge was then signed. Before leaving I had a long talk with the ward sister about the night events, and agreed that I would not make a formal complaint, she in turn would have a word with both the nurses and maintenance. Which was possibly the best outcome I could hope for.