Part 3: The Whipps Cross experience.

On arrival at (Whipp's Cross) hospital, I was taken in to A&E. From then on things, just seemed to be happening so fast, but I remember feeling cold. So cold, that I was shivering all over, so the nurse gave me a 'warm blanket' It looked more like aluminium foil than a blanket and I msut have made a comment about it because she started explaining how it works. I can't say I remember much of what she said though. The consultant came at some point, and told me I had sustained a clean break in the humerus, and a fracture in my ankle joint. He said I would be in plaster for about 12 weeks for he fracture in the ankle, and though the break in the humerus was bad, it was treatable. In plain English, my upper arm was broken just below the shoulder, above my elbow. He said I will have to undergo surgery to have a piece of bone extracted from my hip, and screwed into place with bolts to conjoin the two pieces of broken bone in my arm. Okay, I thought, but will I ever walk again after having bone extracted from my hip, I thought. So I asked him, and he said yes, the fracture will heal after being plastered for a couple of weeks, so will my hip. Then, his actual words sank in: 12 weeks. That was 3 months from the day. In other words, I'll be in plaster until the new year. I was sad, very sad indeed. Just that afternoon, I'd made enquiries about flights to New York City, where I intended to spend the Christmas and New Year break. I'd never been to NYC before, and this was meant to be a trip of a lifetime!

The consultant went his way, and my Mum, brother and sister came in with my Uncle. He had driven all the way from Chelmsford to London as soon as he heard I'd had an accident, and all I could think was oh my, what trouble was I putting everyone through? They all looked pretty tired, but also very relieved. Unfortunately, due to the neck brace I had on, I could only see whoever was right in front of my face as I lay on the stretcher. A nurse came round and sent them all home. She also informed us that I would be transferred to a ward as soon as a bed was free, and they had no choice but to leave without knowing exactly where I would be the following morning. It was too late to get Xrays done, so I had to stay in the neck brace until the following morning, just in case there were injuries to my spinal cord. Needless to say, I spent the night on that stretcher. No room was free, or nobody remembered, or came to get me, whatever the reason was, I was left on the stretcher in a corner of A&E overnight.

I woke up the next day with a serious allover body ache! My chest felt heavy, my foot hurt, and my arm was aching from somewhere outside of my body. I told the nurse, and the doctor as they did their rounds. My Mum and sister came round and were making all the necessary phone calls to inform my job, friends, teachers, etc and my Mum also tried to make the A&E cubicle as homely as possible for me. Up until that moment, I didn't know what had actually happened. During one of the phonecalls I overheard my sister saying she looked back and saw me up in the air, and came running back. I figured because the car was coming at a high speed, the impact sent me flying and I landed on my left side, thereby fracturing my arm, and when I rolled over on landind, I scraped my forehead. I still don't quite understand how I broke my right ankle joint, or lost my boot on that foot. All I could think at that moment was WOW! GOd is good! NOw I could put the consultant's shock/surprise into perspective. He was shocked I was alive, and actually quite taken aback by the fact that I had not lost consciousness through the whole experience. At that moment, I began to praise God. I thanked Him that I was fully aware of my surroundings throughout, because otherwise medical science could/would have given up on me. Soon after, my Mum had to leave for work. As soon as she left, my cousin -who also happens to be a trained medical doctor- arrived, and my, was I glad to see her! Then my sister left for Uni, and I was left alone with my cousin. By now, I was feeling unbearable pain all over and I informed the nurse, who chose to ignore me. Then my cousin -who is otherwise shy, reserved and softspoken- went over to inform the nurse again, asking if it wasn't obvious enough that I was in pain and needed medication, and after about an hour, by which time I was in tears, he brought me some painkillers. By now, my 'lunch date' had arrived -my film producer friend- and he was beyond words. Instead of having the lunch he had made me promise to buy him, he was standing beside me on a hospital stretcher and completely lost for words. Had I had the strength, I would have continued the discussion from the night before with my cousin, and I was more than ready to still have that lunch date, stretcher, painkiller, tears and all... Sometime in the afternoon, I was transferred to Sycamore (yellow zone) ward. There were not enough pillows on that ward to keep my foot elevated!!! My cousin also left and I fell asleep, sleeping like a log. I became aware of how the next 12 weeks would be. No amount of previous conversations could have possibly prepared me for the following 12 weeks.

My Aunt, cousin, Mum, sister and and a couple of friends came to visit that evening. What a joy it was to see familiar faces. Mum helped with cleaning/freshening up, and everyone left for the night. I then drifted in and out of sleep till daybreak. The hours just passed, and I was grateful for the load ( and I literaly mean load) of fruits my Mum and Aunt had brought the night before. I couldn't stand the sight of the hospital food, talkless of eating it. When I needed to ease myself, I pressed the buzzer on my bedside remote -as you are supposed to- for the nurse's attention. Well, nobody came! I just kept buzzing till someone appeared, and when I told her what I needed, she went in search of a bedpan. Before she went off, she took a look at my buzzer, and asked my why I had switched it off. I told her I did no such thing, and she switched it back on before walking off. Whiche ver way my buzzer ended up being turned off, it sure wasn't fun to know someone, and a medical personnel at that, would thinnk of doing such a thing, but to go on and actually do it? That was just appalling to hear/experience!! There was an old lady on the other side of the room, in the corner by the wall who refused to sleep. She seemed to be in pain and was moaning about it. She kept talking to herself and no one in particular, pressing her buzzer repeatedly and generally attempting to get out of the bed. At some point, she finally succeeded and shrieked. Then of course, the night nurse came running, rebuked her and put her back in bed, then wheeled her, bed and all, out of the ward to God knows where.

The next day (Oct 23rd) was not that much different from the day before. The nurses came in to clean/freshen us up, change the bedspreads, and breakfast/lunch/dinner was served. None of which I touched - thanks to Mum and Aunty's load of fruits, I really wasn't lacking in the food department! I was taken for Xrays and the consultant actually twisted my arm back into shape, although the area was swollen and it sure was painful, but he said that was to ensure the bones fused at a regular, more natural angle, and then a brace was placed on it, and a sling was placed around my neck. More friends came round that evening, and as soon as they all left that night, the night nurse told me that my friends were tall and scary, and their presence made the other patients nervous. Also, the sound of their laughter was none other than noise nuisance and I should tell them not to come again. She said the only visitors allowed are family, and only two people at a time. What a foul way to end what had been such a lovely evening. Right there and then, I decided I was leaving the hospital come day break. I could not possible take one more day of such ill treatment at the hands of the staff. Earlier on that day, I'd heard through other patients, that the old lady across from me passed away during the night. Whether it was due to natural causes, or negligence on the part of the staff, no one was sure. The fact of the matter is, she looked well and healthy enough before being wheeled off the night before. To hear she was no longer with us, was quite alarming. I wished my Mum, or some other member of my family was around. I would have made them go and find the consultant and make him discharge me right away!!!!!

The next morning (the 24th of Oct) the consultant informed me that I was young and strong - like I didn't already know - and also quite healthy, making surgery on my arm unnecessary. The break would be left to heal naturally under the brace. I mentioned that I would very much like to go home, as soon as possible thank you very much! As soon as he left, the physiotherapist came with a crutch and showed me how to hop on one foot with the help of the one crutch. He told me I could leave anytime, as long as a family member was there to pick me up. I didn't need to be told twice. God definitely answers prayers, and I was particularly grateful for this answered prayer. I called my Uncle and my Mum, and told them I was ready to come home. My Uncle came to get me and off we went!

Back home, I relaxed and finally started to mentally wind down as well. With one hand in a brace and a foot in plaster, sleep was definitely not an easy task. I spent that night on the sofa, propped up with pillows on all sides. What a sight I must have been for sore eyes! I realized I had been sen home with a tonne medication. A pill to keep the stomach lined and prevent ulcerations which I had to take every morning. Paracetamol and Co proxamol which I had to take every 4 hours, and Senokot against congestions. I felt so sorry for myself. Poor me, who prefers injections was forced to take pills. The first few days at home are a blur. The medication kept me on a constant high, and I drifted in and out of sleep. I was glad to be back home though, even though it had taken me 3 days to finally get there.