Now I’ve apologised for leaving such a long gap between posts, we can move on with the journey. As we begin this next section I’d just like to say again, please do ask questions and make comments if you’d like to. And if you know of anyone who would be encouraged or helped by reading this, please do share it with them.
Having left you teetering on the edge of a cliff, I once again found myself in the A&E department of Frimley Park hospital. The feeling inside my head was still unbearable unless I kept my eyes closed and tilted my head to the right. I really can’t recall much from that day, other than the intense and constant agony inside my head.
Here’s what else I remember:
- Mim lovingly fed me scrambled egg and hash browns because it’s tricky to eat with your eyes closed.
- I had a brain scan.
- I was moved to the stroke ward.
My Mum kept a fairly detailed journal of events, which I’ve borrowed for some light reading. It’s been really helpful for remembering the order of things. Something I find really interesting is how little I was aware of life going on outside of the hospital.
Mum and Dad are very active in their Church and local community. Reading about how much they were still doing, whilst driving to St George’s every day to visit me, has given me an appreciation of what the whole experience was like for them. The following words from my Mum seem to sum up what my family were going through as I spent my first night back in A&E.
“I felt like I’d just climbed Mount Snowdon only to discover Everest standing before me!”
Pete’s Mum, April 2018
That night was long and lonely – I hardly saw any staff and didn’t sleep at all. However, by the next morning, the feeling in my head had started to ease. I still couldn’t keep my eyes open for very long, but the sensation of the inside of my head being out of sync with the outside was definitely fading.
Such was the improvement, that I felt confident enough to attempt a trip to my ensuite toilet. A decision that resulted in immediate regret as I nearly missed the seat as I sat down. The next fifteen minutes or so were spent leaning against the wall before I attempted the return trip.
Good news arrived in the morning as the medical team informed me that they didn’t think I had suffered a stroke. However, they wanted to do an MRI scan of my brain just to be sure. This felt like a good time to remind them that my open heart surgery had happened only one week before and that I’d been advised that MRI scanners were definitely on the list of ‘things not to get into a week after you’ve had open heart surgery!”
I had imagined that the reason for this was the fact that I now had metal wires holding my sternum together – so it could heal – combined with MRI scanners being supermassive magnets: in my head the result of me going anywhere near an MRI scanner would result in a scene from a horror movie. Turns out my reasoning wasn’t quite correct. But we’ll get into that at a later date.
Following the second scan, the doctors settled on it not being a stroke and said that it was probably labyrinthitis – an infection of the inner ear. Now this could be another one of those times where they think it’s one thing but it’s actually something else. But you don’t need the answer to that right now. All you need to know is that it wasn’t a stroke.
And if I hadn’t suffered a stroke, then I no longer needed a bed on the stroke ward. However, because of my dizziness, I wasn’t well enough to go home, so I was moved to a general medical ward.
Now the stroke ward was a very quiet and very peaceful place. So much so that I assumed I was the only patient there.
The general medical ward was not quiet.
The general medical ward was not peaceful.
The general medical ward was a very interesting place.
A Journey Of The Heart 