Fnaar said:
Saw some very icky things during my nursing days... but the worst has to be Christmas morning on a ward, me with hangover, old fella calls me over (he's bedridden) and says "I think I've solied myself". Draw the curtains round, pull back the bedclothes, and he's plastered in cr@p, from chest to knee. Guess who had to clean that up...
I have some sympathy. When I had major surgery seven years ago, I had much of my large bowel removed and then re-joined (in a nutshell). The upshot (or should that be downshot) was that I couldn't eat or drink for six days whilst it was healing. Only a drip to keep me hydrated. By the sixth day I was having major problems not least becuase I had half a dozen drips, drains, stomach drains, etc. etc. hanging off me but I was also suffering from steroid withdrawal and a major, major, thirst. Think of your worse, worse, thirst and multiply it by ten. Anyway, when they heard my innards had woken up they allowed me quarter a thimble full of water every hour and then increased it to an ice cube, etc. By bed time I was feeling much better and I was getting through half a cup an hour. For those who don't know what happens when you operate on your innards they go to sleep effectively but then they wake up and make a mountain of green bile. At which point the drain from my stomach starts filling up and this is clearly visible. My wife can't take this so she runs off to throw up and doesn't return. I'm clearly pretty distressed by this (actually I was close to break down, but that's another matter) and the nursing staff offer me a sleeping pill to get to sleep that night which I accept.
7.00 am the nurse wakes me the next morning and I had slept all the way through. I felt like shoot but that's no surprise because I was drowning in it. I was apopletically apologetic (if that's possible) but the nurses were very good about it. Only thing was I couldn't have a bath or shower for seven days and could only wash myself which I was in no fit state to do.
I would add that this was in an old ward just prior to closure and cleanliness wasn't high on their adjenda. I watched several of the cancer patients walk up and down leaking what can only be described as bowel jelly and then the cleaner would come with his polisher and just polish it into the floor. Only a sister could clean it up as body fluids were for qualified staff only, I was told. I very nearly discharged myself there and then, especially as I had an MRSA case in the nearest room.
I did what I could to clean myself and for the next 24 hours I was affixed to a bedpan. Literally couldn't get off it. Not only that, my wife failed to visit me and I couldn't get her on the phone. I was pretty low at this point. The next thing I recall was my wife was walking towards me in her bedclothes. Why? I had to do a double take. Apparently she had left the hospital after being violently sick 24 hours previously only to be admitted to the same hospital two hours later with appendicitis. She was operated on in the night and was in the next ward for much of the next day recovering. The nurses knew, but couldn't tell me until my wife was mobile enough to tell me herself. At least we were able to keep each other company for the next three - four days.
If there's any nurses or ex-nurses out there you have my deepest respect and gratitude for what you have to put up with.
