An Angry Word

Thank God for son in laws, is what I can say. The next day after hearing my tears flow more than they had for the past 20 odd years, my wonderful daughter set about rectifying the
situation. Upon speaking to her husband about my predicament, they found that is was possible
together with the health fund, to enlist the private services of a specialist surgeon to take over my case. Half an hour after finding and speaking to the head of the orthopedic department
he came to see me!

The first thing that this well turned out surgeon said was, that my son in law had spoken to him in no uncertain terms and here he was, forthwith taking on my case. Within the hour I had been
moved to a vacant position, that even after my pleadings had been refused to me, settled in a TV
ordered and telephone (that unfortunately after a day did not work any longer) plugged in, a
wheelchair by my side for more independent movement and I was feeling like a new person.

Encase in this corner spot, I could receive the privacy that I craved, would like there with the
earphones on and close myself off to the world. It was decided that a few more days would have
to pass for the swelling to go down and then I would have the operation necessary.

The days now passed more pleasantly, a visitor or two, chatting to the other ladies in the ward,
going down to see my grand-daughter, helped keep my nerves at bay.
Wednesday evening I was given the 'fast' tag and told that my operation was to be the next
morning. I knew I was in good hands, so I felt less anxious and woke up to find myself in the
ward with very little recollection of the recovery room etc....

The pain was bad and I was attached to a machine that allowed you to self induce morphine, this
is only allowed for the first night, for after that it is monitored by the nurses, but it helped. My
daughter slept by my side all night, that I shall be ever indebted for and recommend it to all
those who have to go through an operation, it is important to have someone with you, better not
to go through it alone.

Still encased in a heavy plaster, the days passed slowly. Now that I was under the care of a
'private' doctor, I was all but ignored by the nursing staff and left to manage on my own. This is
good and bad, as you know you are receiving the post operative care that you need, but each time you or one of your neighbors would request medicine, to be helped up, an adjustment to their bed or whatever, the nurses would sigh deeply and complain either how busy they were,
or that they were on their break (all of them at the same time) or take another hour before they
would actually bring the medicine to the patient in need.

May I guarantee you, that it is better not to be sick! stay healthy and stay out f hospital, for it
is a terribly sad place to be. Nurses who are pregnant and do not wish to lift sick, should stop
working; there should be more patient staff for the elderly, who I know can be difficult, but have
nevertheless lived their lives and are embarrassed to be in such a predicament of helplessness, I
know I was, but being younger and healthier, I could battle with myself to force my mind to
close itself to the pain and be independent, they nevertheless, were not so lucky and it was
painfull to watch, see and hear.

All in all, 11 had passed and it was now time for me to leave the 'comforts' of the hospital and
go home, but first I had to be fitted out with the right equipment.