May You Live In Interesting Times

So, there I am driving to work at a quarter to eight yesterday morning when I suddenly realise I've got a sharp pain in my chest and I'm not breathing very well. Oh, I thought, I've been here before, the weekend of the 2003 Rugby World Cup Semi Finals when I stopped breathing on the Saturday and had heart failure on the Sunday. Now what I did next just about sums me up, rather than pull over to the side of the road and call an ambulance (as I had been advised to do by my doctor should this ever happen) I carry on driving for another five miles, pull in at my office tell one of my managers what has happened and then drive 10 miles in the opposite direction to the Royal Bournemouth Hospital. The hospital is only about two miles by crow from where I live - but I obviously wanted to make the journey more interesting.

Anyway at eight fifteen I 'self admit' myself to A & E - and I'm the only patient, given that England v Sweden is still some twelve hours away this is probably normal for this time of day on a Tuesday. The receptionist, enters my details on the computer contacts the A & E observation ward, tells me to follow the red triangles on the floor until I arrive in the Kingdom of Oz (okay I lied about that bit).

Within two minutes of entering the ward I am taking my clothes off, putting on one of those weird, do up at the back, gowns, having my chest and legs shaved and being attached to an ECG machine on my left side, whilst on the right I am connected to the blood pressure thingy and a heart monitoring machine. I am given a spray under my tongue to make sure the pain in my chest is relieved and five minutes later I have the first of four blood samples taken, plus a blood sugar test and shortly afterwards a doctor, called Brain, arrives. We go through my medical history (post 2003) and he says that my ECG result is abnormal but given my cardiomyopathy he doesn't know how abnormal until my file comes down from records, he says that I'm going to have another ECG. David, the Irish nurse in charge of A & E, gives me an injection to make sure my blood doesn't clot and five little pink tablets.

After the second ECG a nurse comes and says I have to have an X-ray and she leads me away to the X-ray department where she takes two x-rays of my chest - then I go back to the ward, I look at my watch and it's still not half past nine!

Half an hour later, the doctor comes back and says that it is probably an angina attack and what concerns him is that it happened at rest. They will need to do another blood test (at this point the words of Tony Hancock speed across my brain) and the downside is that it has to be twelve hours after the initial 'episode' and that depending on the results will determine whether or not I can go home- that means I am in hospital for the best part of another twelve hours. Now the next thing I say really sums me up again - and the doctor gives me one of those looks usually reserved for the kids at the back of the special school bus - having listened to all of this I say "my ticket in the car park runs out in ten minutes," - he can see that although I am an accountant by day I am a control freak by night and says "don't worry, I'll take care of that".

David comes back and tells me my blood sugar test is 12.1 - I nearly die (sorry bad taste)
"12.1! I repeat but I'm a diabetic, it shouldn't be higher than 7.5."
He shrugs and says "don't worry, it's probably because of breakfast," to which I reply, "Yes, I had Shredded Wheat, you know no added sugar!" He gives a rueful smile and says, "You may as well put your trousers back on, you've a long boring day ahead of you."

I ask him if I can go to the car and get my phone, Janis hasn't a clue what's going on and work needs to be updated. He says I can only go if I haven't got any pains in my chest, when I say I haven't he says go on then, but make it quick. From the car I grab my phone, wallet and Mp3 player (if you are going to be stuck somewhere for twelve hours may as well have 4,000 songs for company) and then I phoned Janis from the car park.

There is a long pause at the other end of the phone when I tell her where I am and why I am there but tell her not to panic and can she phone the office.

Then it's back to the ward, I ask one the doctor why I can't go home for the wait between tests but he says they can't allow that in case something happens to me whilst I'm under observation. I try not to clock watch but its very difficult, also I feel really guilty as what appears to be a conveyor belt of old injured people are brought in on stretchers and whatever those wheely trolleys are called.

Mid-afternoon the doctor returns with his boss, this is the same doctor I saw in November 2003 when I spent a week in and out of hospital whilst a variety of tests were run one me to determine why I had stopped breathing and why I had heart failure - the cause was later found out to be idiopathic and the resultant effect was cardiomiopathy (my heart muscle apparently resembled a flat football). The doctor is very jovial and says "Hi Paul, long time no see," to which I reply "that's a good thing," and he smiles back. He asks how work is going and if I've been under stress lately, I explain about Angela being off for six weeks and me doing her job and mine and he says "this is stress related, one of your arteries closed briefly which is why you had the chest pains and the shortness of breath, I'm confident there is no long lasting damage but we must wait for the blood test results later tonight."

I declined lunch but come four o'clock I am starving when the tea trolley comes round, the sandwiches all contain mayonnaise so I have a banana. At various times during the afternoon I am questioned by different doctors and nurses until finally it is eight o'clock. Almost dead to the minute of my admission a nurse arrives and says it is time for my test, the results will be known within twenty minutes. I ask her if she can do something for me and explain about the blood sugar test, she tells me it's not a problem.

At eight thirty she comes back and says BM is 6.1 - I feel like I have won the sodding World Cup - 6.1! Brilliant! Ten minutes later the ward sister comes to me and says, "good news, you won't be staying overnight." She asks me if there is somebody to take me home, I reply that I drove myself to hospital and I was going to drive home, she gives me one of those 'you naughty boy' looks and says "If you sneak out quietly I'll pretend I don't know that."

I walk through the front door just as Sweden are equalising after a long interesting day.

postscript: On Wednesday morning Janis tells me that when she told Nathalie that I wouldn't be home at the normal time because I went to hospital because I wasn't feeling well Nathalie replied "Is he dead?"

Kids eh?