I get these periods now and again, especially after a severe attack of arthritic pain and inability to move a limb or limbs, as I have just had, recently. I suffer from Gout which has affected all major and minor joints. I know how long the attack will last, from experience and just have to lie in bed and wait. I should have gone into hospital but hate the place. I rely on friends and takeaway meals, which are much better than any hospital food.
It all started after a crash. A small piece of bone, at the bottom of my spine broke off and became lodged against my sciatic nerve. It became like a lightswitch, certain ways that I turned and I would collapse in a heap.This, of course, caused more worry as a fall could leave me paralysed. They would not attempt to take it out for similar reasons. So I had a sort of bomb. I started drinking to relax and get to sleep at night. Over time this became gout.
About three years after the crash I was taken into hospital, unable to move most of my major and minor joints, all of which were swollen, inflamed and extremely painful.I had a very high fever and was sort of going in and out. It was nice there, warm, fuzzy and there was no pain, wherever I was. I liked it but in my more lucid moments realised that I was way too hot.
At one point I sat up straight, suddenly, demanding of a wee student nurse, 'what's my temperature?' She prevaricated but I went on. She said 105. Bump back down I went trying to think of icebergs and ice cream.
I found out much later that this sudden sit up is a classic end game thing. Well the next I realise is moving, still horizontal, upward, in a diagonal trajectory toward the centre line of the Ward. Umm. I got about 12 feet off the deck and rotated, still horizontal. I get up on one arm and look down at me and the wee nurse is washing me down. I look the other side and their was a guy thrashing about in his bed in a fever. I try to shout down, 'hey never mind me, I am fine up here, help that guy.'
I begin to head down the ward toward the dayroom, still horizontal but sort of sitting up a bit. Still 12 feet up, like a conveyor belt thing.I go out and come to standing up with that white stage mist stuff swirling about me feet. The Ward is behind me and left of me and on my right hand side is rock. Deep shades of grey. like in a mine. I am obviously in a passageway of some kind. I move a little forward to be nosy. I did not walk, I moved. The passage had a right turn and as the smoke moved looked to have a level sandy floor.I had a look round the corner. The passage seem to go onward after the right turn. But there was an opening on the left wall hacked into the rock. From it there was the brightest of white light in beams and centrally immense coming upward from inside. Before I could go and look I sensed someone coming down the passage toward me. I moved back to my original position but over a bit so I could see this light on the angle.
A tall man with shoulder length black hair, swept back patrician style came round the corner to stand in front of me. The mists swirled round his feet and he moved, not stepped, too. He was wearing an all covering luminous cobalt blue throat to mist garment.I could see forearms and hands and a face. The face was now clear as this light was behind him. he had a full black beard and black hairs on the forearms. I took this person to be my father, who had died many years before. Why, I don't know. The thought just seem to be projected to me. There was no fear, panic. It was too guys bumping into each other in a passage way.
There was no speech, it was all telepathic. We said, 'hello.' I asked, 'what is down there, in the light?' 'Would you like to go there and see?' he said, quarter turning. 'Great,I said,' and then I'll go back.' 'On no, if you go down there, then there is no back, it is up to you, as you wish..' ' Um. what is down there?' ' No, you have to choose between entering and going on or going back.' ' You still have a lot to do back there, but you can reject it and go on, if you wish.' 'Okay what have I to do back there?' 'You have people to help, now, the man in the bed and later, helping people with other things.' I was about to start but was stopped. ' No that is all, what do you wish to do?' I'll go back, I quite like it there and..........' ' Okay.bye' he said.
I sat up in bed and said,' that man over there needs help, badly.' The nurse had tears in her eyes. I was 30 at that time. She jumped and went over to the guy who really did need help. I conked out. I sort of came to with folk round the bed. one older nurse was asking the wee trainee, 'what happened?' She explained. 'Oh you should never tell them their temperature!!' ' I didn't, but he kept asking and getting agitated, even more.' I tried to defend her but couldn't. I never mentioned what happened until many years later. Eventually telling a friend of mine who was a nurse. She said that it's called an out of body experience.
This is why I hate being ill because I dwell on this incident. it was nice and I have no regrets, but just wish that I knew where I was going after my time here. As time goes on, I have come to the conclusion, that there is a somewhere, way in our future, that we are all from. Things are so perfect there that folk are bored stiff. So, as they can do anything as a collective, we are sent back to various points, to experience how things were, in the past, from their perspective.This is done to make the folk realise how things were and to appreciate what they now have, whatever that is there. It could just as easily be somewhere deep inside this planet and we are sent to the surface to periods of the past. Then each planet would have it's own history and interact from the centre. who knows for sure. But when I am ill I always seem to end up here which is why I hate going into hospital and always end up totally bored when I come out or get up, when I am laid up at home.
When I do have to go in, unable, say, to move a left leg and a left arm, as they are both swollen up at the knee, elbow and wrist I get mad as soon as the ambulance arrives and it continues until I get out of there.!! So this is how it goes............
The ambulance crew want you to get up and get into a wheelie chair thing because it is easier for them. Now I am going in because I cannot stand up, so getting out of bed and into a chair is torture. Invariably, despite telling them, they grab the swollen arm to pull and push you into the chair.This is helping me?? My blood pressure is zooming, I am ready to scream and they treat you like a Pavlov dog with, 'good boy, see you made it.' So you get in the ambulance. Then you have to get out the chair thing and onto a stretcher with more pulling and pushing and good boy chocolate drops.!! I begin to relax a bit and try to calm down and they want to know all my details. Inside leg measurement, age of your goldfish and so on. I once asked, 'why, you are only transport and they have a file on me in the hospital.' They must know my name and address, as they have just picked me up, but still ask for it all. So you arrive at the hospital and enter the first interrogation room.
A nurse comes and asks a whole load of questions then they ask they all again a bit later. This is to find out if you are brain damaged or disorientated. I tell them I'm having a gout attack. I can't move my leg and arm. Sometimes, for badness I change minor details. This doctor, one time, stormed in and said you've changed your story, this is not a detective thing, you know. I replied, 'Oh isn't it, I thought that you were detecting what was wrong with me, as you don't believe me when I tell you.' I stopped doing it as I may be wasting time for folk who really need investigation. So they decide that you have what you already know that you have and admit you. Things are pretty good as you lie there. for hours, in peace, until you go to a ward. You get wheeled about everywhere and I realised after a few admissions that I should take a double dose of painkillers prior to leaving home. Things are nice, warm and fuzzy.
I arrive at the ward, wave to fellow prisoners and get heaved off the stretcher, onto the bed. Despite saying that my left side is bad, that is the side they go for. This comes about because only 25% of people are left handed, like me. Right handed people, naturally, go to a person's left side. They have asked, where is it sore, but then ignore the information, completely.So I have arrived.
The first questions as I sit there are, did you bring in pajamas, soap, towels, cuddly toy, pills, No, I reply, I can't move, so how can I pack a bag? Well someone living with you could have done it. If I had somebody to look after me why would I be here? Its all wasted and I gave up rebelling, mostly.
So you are in. All of this has brought on more pain so I ask for painkillers. Oh no you have to wait until a doctor sees you. Now it I go in on a Friday, doctor's rounds are not until Monday. This is helping me?????
So I always ensure that I have some with me but if you admit that you lose them!! The games afoot.
Food time arrives and there is a choice of crap. They transport it from a central kitchen in trolleys which are then plugged in at the ward. Result...dried, often burnt crap.
Now for years I was allowed to phone for a carry out or to have food brought in at visiting time. On my last sentence they were on bug hunting madness and no food was allowed. They even took the earphones away for the radio system!!! Are visitors sprayed and put into chemical suits when they visit.....no Staff walk about with trainers on, which they come in with. Sure keep it as clean as you can but it is impossible.
So you are woken at some ungodly hour to wash and then go back to sleep until breakfast, which is the best meal of the day as it involves no cooking! How do you get back to sleep? Why not do both at once?
You sort of doze after breakfast until they decide to pull and haul you about to change the bedding. They change it every single day, why? Give me peace!!!!
The highlight is doctor's round with the gaggle of students. They all huddle. I know what's wrong, they know what's wrong. My file is inches thick. The way they whizz through the file details telling the students about my past makes me feel that I should be dead and why am I still annoying them! Oh renal failure (brought on by their pills) oh four pints of blood when two ulcers burst, which I did not know that I had. (brought on by their pills irritating the stomach) Oh admitted several times unable to move any joint. Some idiot always says, 'was that painful.' So I permit them to prod about, they gotta learn. So I get painkillers and they guess what else to give me and the waiting game begins.
The pills clear out the poison and the swelling goes down and then the physio torture group arrive. They feel no pain, whatever. But the sooner they get you up, the sooner they get the bed. It just becomes a drag. Some patients are up for a bit of fun, others not so. Fair enough. Normally talk of tunnelling out starts a la the Great Escape movie. You can have a lot of fun with the staff with that one.You revert to childhood rubbish which seems funny at the time.
I have signed myself out many times as I just cannot stand the regime and constantly be treated like a moron. No matter how many times you say, don't touch that leg/arm, that is the one they always go for. I am supposed to be in there for help and to make things easier, but things just become just as difficult, but in different ways, than to being at home.
The National Health Service in the uk is a great thing but it has ended up as being overstretched with not enough staff having to do too many things. The staff become automatons handling lumps of meat with little personal interaction or time to actually care. They must do this, this and this before the next shift arrives. The whole place is run by auxiliary staff who have little medical training. You never see a Sister or Charge Nurse as they are now office managers. Qualified nurses are few and far between, too.
I hate it in hospital, every time. Now I make the best of it and just break their rules. I always have extra pills and until the last time, I got food in via visitors. The last incarceration just made things a bit sneaky with bacon rolls and sandwiches stuffed in folks pockets. How clean they were who knows? But they were damn good.
So there you are then. I do hope that there will never be a next time. There almost was recently and I am sure that there will be again. Every system can be screwed and I'll survive, escape and become bored, yet again. I do hope that this does wear off soon, as things are always so nice afterwards.
Hope I have not bored you too much.
It all started after a crash. A small piece of bone, at the bottom of my spine broke off and became lodged against my sciatic nerve. It became like a lightswitch, certain ways that I turned and I would collapse in a heap.This, of course, caused more worry as a fall could leave me paralysed. They would not attempt to take it out for similar reasons. So I had a sort of bomb. I started drinking to relax and get to sleep at night. Over time this became gout.
About three years after the crash I was taken into hospital, unable to move most of my major and minor joints, all of which were swollen, inflamed and extremely painful.I had a very high fever and was sort of going in and out. It was nice there, warm, fuzzy and there was no pain, wherever I was. I liked it but in my more lucid moments realised that I was way too hot.
At one point I sat up straight, suddenly, demanding of a wee student nurse, 'what's my temperature?' She prevaricated but I went on. She said 105. Bump back down I went trying to think of icebergs and ice cream.
I found out much later that this sudden sit up is a classic end game thing. Well the next I realise is moving, still horizontal, upward, in a diagonal trajectory toward the centre line of the Ward. Umm. I got about 12 feet off the deck and rotated, still horizontal. I get up on one arm and look down at me and the wee nurse is washing me down. I look the other side and their was a guy thrashing about in his bed in a fever. I try to shout down, 'hey never mind me, I am fine up here, help that guy.'
I begin to head down the ward toward the dayroom, still horizontal but sort of sitting up a bit. Still 12 feet up, like a conveyor belt thing.I go out and come to standing up with that white stage mist stuff swirling about me feet. The Ward is behind me and left of me and on my right hand side is rock. Deep shades of grey. like in a mine. I am obviously in a passageway of some kind. I move a little forward to be nosy. I did not walk, I moved. The passage had a right turn and as the smoke moved looked to have a level sandy floor.I had a look round the corner. The passage seem to go onward after the right turn. But there was an opening on the left wall hacked into the rock. From it there was the brightest of white light in beams and centrally immense coming upward from inside. Before I could go and look I sensed someone coming down the passage toward me. I moved back to my original position but over a bit so I could see this light on the angle.
A tall man with shoulder length black hair, swept back patrician style came round the corner to stand in front of me. The mists swirled round his feet and he moved, not stepped, too. He was wearing an all covering luminous cobalt blue throat to mist garment.I could see forearms and hands and a face. The face was now clear as this light was behind him. he had a full black beard and black hairs on the forearms. I took this person to be my father, who had died many years before. Why, I don't know. The thought just seem to be projected to me. There was no fear, panic. It was too guys bumping into each other in a passage way.
There was no speech, it was all telepathic. We said, 'hello.' I asked, 'what is down there, in the light?' 'Would you like to go there and see?' he said, quarter turning. 'Great,I said,' and then I'll go back.' 'On no, if you go down there, then there is no back, it is up to you, as you wish..' ' Um. what is down there?' ' No, you have to choose between entering and going on or going back.' ' You still have a lot to do back there, but you can reject it and go on, if you wish.' 'Okay what have I to do back there?' 'You have people to help, now, the man in the bed and later, helping people with other things.' I was about to start but was stopped. ' No that is all, what do you wish to do?' I'll go back, I quite like it there and..........' ' Okay.bye' he said.
I sat up in bed and said,' that man over there needs help, badly.' The nurse had tears in her eyes. I was 30 at that time. She jumped and went over to the guy who really did need help. I conked out. I sort of came to with folk round the bed. one older nurse was asking the wee trainee, 'what happened?' She explained. 'Oh you should never tell them their temperature!!' ' I didn't, but he kept asking and getting agitated, even more.' I tried to defend her but couldn't. I never mentioned what happened until many years later. Eventually telling a friend of mine who was a nurse. She said that it's called an out of body experience.
This is why I hate being ill because I dwell on this incident. it was nice and I have no regrets, but just wish that I knew where I was going after my time here. As time goes on, I have come to the conclusion, that there is a somewhere, way in our future, that we are all from. Things are so perfect there that folk are bored stiff. So, as they can do anything as a collective, we are sent back to various points, to experience how things were, in the past, from their perspective.This is done to make the folk realise how things were and to appreciate what they now have, whatever that is there. It could just as easily be somewhere deep inside this planet and we are sent to the surface to periods of the past. Then each planet would have it's own history and interact from the centre. who knows for sure. But when I am ill I always seem to end up here which is why I hate going into hospital and always end up totally bored when I come out or get up, when I am laid up at home.
When I do have to go in, unable, say, to move a left leg and a left arm, as they are both swollen up at the knee, elbow and wrist I get mad as soon as the ambulance arrives and it continues until I get out of there.!! So this is how it goes............
The ambulance crew want you to get up and get into a wheelie chair thing because it is easier for them. Now I am going in because I cannot stand up, so getting out of bed and into a chair is torture. Invariably, despite telling them, they grab the swollen arm to pull and push you into the chair.This is helping me?? My blood pressure is zooming, I am ready to scream and they treat you like a Pavlov dog with, 'good boy, see you made it.' So you get in the ambulance. Then you have to get out the chair thing and onto a stretcher with more pulling and pushing and good boy chocolate drops.!! I begin to relax a bit and try to calm down and they want to know all my details. Inside leg measurement, age of your goldfish and so on. I once asked, 'why, you are only transport and they have a file on me in the hospital.' They must know my name and address, as they have just picked me up, but still ask for it all. So you arrive at the hospital and enter the first interrogation room.
A nurse comes and asks a whole load of questions then they ask they all again a bit later. This is to find out if you are brain damaged or disorientated. I tell them I'm having a gout attack. I can't move my leg and arm. Sometimes, for badness I change minor details. This doctor, one time, stormed in and said you've changed your story, this is not a detective thing, you know. I replied, 'Oh isn't it, I thought that you were detecting what was wrong with me, as you don't believe me when I tell you.' I stopped doing it as I may be wasting time for folk who really need investigation. So they decide that you have what you already know that you have and admit you. Things are pretty good as you lie there. for hours, in peace, until you go to a ward. You get wheeled about everywhere and I realised after a few admissions that I should take a double dose of painkillers prior to leaving home. Things are nice, warm and fuzzy.
I arrive at the ward, wave to fellow prisoners and get heaved off the stretcher, onto the bed. Despite saying that my left side is bad, that is the side they go for. This comes about because only 25% of people are left handed, like me. Right handed people, naturally, go to a person's left side. They have asked, where is it sore, but then ignore the information, completely.So I have arrived.
The first questions as I sit there are, did you bring in pajamas, soap, towels, cuddly toy, pills, No, I reply, I can't move, so how can I pack a bag? Well someone living with you could have done it. If I had somebody to look after me why would I be here? Its all wasted and I gave up rebelling, mostly.
So you are in. All of this has brought on more pain so I ask for painkillers. Oh no you have to wait until a doctor sees you. Now it I go in on a Friday, doctor's rounds are not until Monday. This is helping me?????
So I always ensure that I have some with me but if you admit that you lose them!! The games afoot.
Food time arrives and there is a choice of crap. They transport it from a central kitchen in trolleys which are then plugged in at the ward. Result...dried, often burnt crap.
Now for years I was allowed to phone for a carry out or to have food brought in at visiting time. On my last sentence they were on bug hunting madness and no food was allowed. They even took the earphones away for the radio system!!! Are visitors sprayed and put into chemical suits when they visit.....no Staff walk about with trainers on, which they come in with. Sure keep it as clean as you can but it is impossible.
So you are woken at some ungodly hour to wash and then go back to sleep until breakfast, which is the best meal of the day as it involves no cooking! How do you get back to sleep? Why not do both at once?
You sort of doze after breakfast until they decide to pull and haul you about to change the bedding. They change it every single day, why? Give me peace!!!!
The highlight is doctor's round with the gaggle of students. They all huddle. I know what's wrong, they know what's wrong. My file is inches thick. The way they whizz through the file details telling the students about my past makes me feel that I should be dead and why am I still annoying them! Oh renal failure (brought on by their pills) oh four pints of blood when two ulcers burst, which I did not know that I had. (brought on by their pills irritating the stomach) Oh admitted several times unable to move any joint. Some idiot always says, 'was that painful.' So I permit them to prod about, they gotta learn. So I get painkillers and they guess what else to give me and the waiting game begins.
The pills clear out the poison and the swelling goes down and then the physio torture group arrive. They feel no pain, whatever. But the sooner they get you up, the sooner they get the bed. It just becomes a drag. Some patients are up for a bit of fun, others not so. Fair enough. Normally talk of tunnelling out starts a la the Great Escape movie. You can have a lot of fun with the staff with that one.You revert to childhood rubbish which seems funny at the time.
I have signed myself out many times as I just cannot stand the regime and constantly be treated like a moron. No matter how many times you say, don't touch that leg/arm, that is the one they always go for. I am supposed to be in there for help and to make things easier, but things just become just as difficult, but in different ways, than to being at home.
The National Health Service in the uk is a great thing but it has ended up as being overstretched with not enough staff having to do too many things. The staff become automatons handling lumps of meat with little personal interaction or time to actually care. They must do this, this and this before the next shift arrives. The whole place is run by auxiliary staff who have little medical training. You never see a Sister or Charge Nurse as they are now office managers. Qualified nurses are few and far between, too.
I hate it in hospital, every time. Now I make the best of it and just break their rules. I always have extra pills and until the last time, I got food in via visitors. The last incarceration just made things a bit sneaky with bacon rolls and sandwiches stuffed in folks pockets. How clean they were who knows? But they were damn good.
So there you are then. I do hope that there will never be a next time. There almost was recently and I am sure that there will be again. Every system can be screwed and I'll survive, escape and become bored, yet again. I do hope that this does wear off soon, as things are always so nice afterwards.
Hope I have not bored you too much.
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