Fresh “troops” rolled in and they were brisk and business like in what they did. Then the Doctors appeared. Darting back and forth while sieving through patient’s medical records.
It was at this juncture that Doctor Hilmi appeared at the foot of my bed. He looked up at me and asked, “You have Diabetes?” I gave him an affirmative reply and he went on to ask me why I refused to take medication to treat my Diabetes.
After explaining my reasons why I chose to manage my Diabetic condition by a change of lifestyle and discipline over my diet, Dr. Hilmi replied in a pompous manner that I was technically wrong in having made that decision and he went on and on to deride my folly in not subscribing to drugs to control my Diabetes.
“Doctor, do you mind checking what is recorded for my blood sugar level in my medical records that you now hold in your hands, please”, I hastily defended myself. “What is the latest reading of my blood sugar?”
Doctor Hilmi turned red in the face, preferred to remain silent. I gave him the answer. “Doctor, is it not 5.8? And that’s non-Diabetic, if I may add. That’s how effective my management of Diabetes is over drugs.”
Food Sucks
Two slices of bread and a cup of black coffee for breakfast. No butter, no jam, no nothing. No eggs. No creamer.
Worst of all, I had no cash with me and my Bank’s ATM Electronic Cards were left behind at home. Hence, I could not get someone to buy me something better for breakfast from the Cafeteria.
The Heart Guru Visits Me
The Heart Specialist finally appears at my bedside. He has a retinue of doctors and nurses as he moves from bed to bed.
One of the Doctors explains to the Heart Specialist about what is my condition. Then they start to talk about other things and share some moments of laughter.
Doctor Hilmi is with the retinue and he is as quiet as a Church mouse. Gosh! he almost looks as though he was peeing in his pants every time the Specialist looked at him. Anyways, the Specialist looks at me, points to the ECG printout and says to me, “You had a Heart Attack. You need to be kept here for observation for 5 days. This is general practice as it is known that repeat attacks happen most within the first five days.” And off he went.
That’s it.
What’s Wrong With The System
I noticed that almost everything is delegated “away” from the Heart Specialist and is taken care of by whoever is designated to do this and to do that. The Heart Specialist appears and looks at the records of the patient’s vital signs, cracks a few jokes with his fawning aides, speaks to the patient in what Christian’s would term as “Pentecostal tongues” and walks off majestically.
The Heart Specialist only knew me by my bed number. He failed miserably as a Specialist to connect with me on matters that landed me there in the first place – to get the Specialist’s assay and what-if’s in the curative process.
Diagnosis
So all I knew about my problem is that I suffered a heart attack because a piece of paper said so. And hopefully it is a piece of paper that belonged to me and not to some other patient. But still, it is the paper that is pointed at and I am declared a heart attack case.
What else did I learn about my health or unhealthy condition?
Nothing. I am not supposed to know. So that if they made any mistakes, I wouldn’t know they made mistakes. Like I was not told that the Heart Specialist that first morning had instructed that I be given an injection to dilute my blood. And I learned a day later that the order was not followed and I was never given the injection. See what I mean?
One of the Staff yells, “Two came in. One survived. One died”. Those who heard him say that, enjoined with a burst of laughter.
As I lay still, I thought to myself if I would eventually leave this world, the same way Michael Jackson did with this bunch of loonies at the Critical Bay.
The Nurse seated at the desk, looked across the floor and spoke to me from a distance of approximately 20 feet, “Uncle, where are you from?”. I mistook it as part of the series of tests they were conducting on me and this one was for my hearing.
Now why would she want to ask that when all my particulars from my Personal ID Card had been entered into my Medical file that was on her desk?
An hour later, the same Nurse hollers a reminder that someone should transfer me to the Intensive Care Unit on the first floor at Block D.
A while later, a young Hospital Attendant walks over to my side, holds my Medical file, looks at me and smiles. Leaves the file at the foot of my bed and walks away. Great! I guess his job wasn’t to transfer me to ICU but only to leave my Medical file on my bed. I never saw him again. Hmmm! who is it that claims that unemployment is severe in the country?
Repeated reminders continued to ring out: “Hey! this Uncle has been accepted at ICU Block D. Get him moved to ICU”.
The transfer to the ICU only happened more than 2 hours later either because I could not get out of bed, walk over there by myself or because I refused to expire at the Critical Bay and give credence that no one makes it out alive from CB!
Okay, so much for the Critical Bay.
To the ICU Room
I was transferred on this mobile bed into an elevator. Then we came out from the elevator. And the attendant spoke to the other guy, “Hey! we are out on the same floor”.
So I am moved back into the elevator once again and this time they stop talking to each other so that they could concentrate on the button panel to make sure we get off on the ICU floor.
The ICU Room
I reached the ICU Room at close to 11 pm. It was cold. The ICU room has no room temperature control for their air conditioning. It was just a matter of whether the patient would die from the cold if his illness does not take him home earlier.
The Nurse on Duty was a very young and pleasant woman by the name of Halifah. I learned that she alone had to take charge of 15 patients on this side of the room.
I hardly slept through that first night at ICU. I could not move out of my bed as I had electrode probes attached to my chest. Several more ECG readings were taken during that night. My blood pressure was at 144/102 with a pulse rate of 98.
As I looked across my bed, I was met with unsympathetic stares from those who slept at the other side of the room.
I was given a set of ICU Heart patient’s clothes to wear. With my left hand totally disabled by the intravenous feed attachment and my chest full of probe wires, I had to turn into the One Armed Swordsman on a bouncy bed mattress in order to change from my T Shirt and Long pants into the apparel that I was handed – without Nurse Halifah’s help.
At the Outpatient Emergency Lobby in the hospital, I was hastily wheeled in and a second ECG was performed.
A Doctor appeared from out of nowhere and he walked with the gait of a woman. He asked me to repeat my name. Hmmmm made me think why he needed that for since my name is written on the file he held open in his hands.
Anyways, he instructed the Attendant to move me into the Critical Ward just adjacent to where I was at that moment.
Critical Bay
Once again, I was administered the ECG. I was fully conscious, feeling tired and it was nearing 8 at night. More comments made from the ECG readings. My blood-sugar was also tested. My left hand was punctured for any need for intravenous drip. More blood sample was taken.
Then a bloodied young man was rushed in and they moved him to the left side of where I lay.
The wailing of a woman 15 minutes later confirmed that the young man didn’t make it. He died.
Adrenalin Takes Command
OMG! I am not going to go that easy. And my blood pressure shot past 190. I overheard the guy yell to someone that it was over 200 and I had to be given something fast.
How Idiotic Medical Professionals Can Be
Along came a middle aged Indian Lady Doctor who told me, “I am sorry that we can’t give you the intended injection to dilute your blood because when you last had your attack, it is past 24 hours”
Harummmph! Last attack from 5 pm till 9 pm on Saturday Jan 15th. Now its not yet 9 pm on Sunday Jan 16th. Must be Indian mathematics at work.
[FastForward] On Jan 18th. another Cardiologist instructed that I be given that same injection immediately and I was given the injection. So what the hell was that earlier 24 hours idiocy all about ha?
Anyways, the Indian Lady Doctor went on to say that it cannot be assumed that I can “save” my heart with a by-pass (as it was already suspected that my heart had blocked blood vessels), because it is highly probable that parts of my heart tissue may have been mortified by the myocardial infarction.
Suddenly, I am surrounded by heart pundits who sound so astute about the ramifications of anything that concerns the human heart. That’s fine by their learned education but they can’t explain how, what and why I am still alive after what they themselves admit would have sent a human to his forever home six feet under the ground.
As opined by Lainybelle, “It Could Be Windy’s Heart, I Hope It’s Not“, I am back from the Hospital with the Cardiologist’s confirmation that it is my heart that is in trouble. This is not good news at all for me.
I have been suffering this recurrent chest pains (where the sternum is located) and the onset of the chest pains is always after I have eaten food that tend to produce more flatulence in the stomach. Believe me there are such kinds of food, like as though they serve a worthy cause – to propagate farts and it adds more color to life.
The pain that I suffer is a crushing pain a wee bit towards the left of my sternum and it radiates to my back on the left side. The pain hovers from any length of time between 45 minutes to an hour. On two separate occasions, the pain remained for 2 hours but on Saturday, Jan 15th. it lasted from 5 pm till 9 pm, a horrifying 4 hours.
What is peculiar about this pain is that it does not exhibit the usual symptoms that are attendant with myocardial infarction or what is popularly called as heart attack.
The following day, Jan 16th. I sought an opinion from a qualified Medical Practitioner. Having heard about what triggers my chest pains, he insisted on running an ECG. The result of the ECG shocked him enough to turn and say to me, “It is some sort of miracle that you are still alive till now”. He hastily wrote a referral letter which I had to hand over at the Hospital’s Emergency Front Desk.
This is going to be a long article. The next part will follow shortly. I can’t exert myself too much at the computer as I need to get sufficient rest.
Soreeee, this isn’t Mr. Ed, the talking horse of the TV Series.
It’s just me, Windy who Walks the Talk. I wish to thank those who left words of encouragement and concern about what appeared to be a heart attack that I suffered a couple of days back. Something that truly unnerved me and Lainybelle published an article about it, “OMG! Did Windy Suffer A Heart Attack?”
Obviously it is very disconcerting for a handsome, young man like me to come to terms that his pump is having some trouble, or so it seemed.
Fortunately, I know something about the symptoms about a heart attack and I believed that it was not my heart that was about to yield – not when there is still so much blogging to do. Hahaha.
At the Doctor’s Clinic that fateful night, the Doctor first asked me these questions:
Do you feel any sharp pain in your left arm?
Do you feel any pain in your jaw?
Do you feel any pain at the back of your neck?
My answers to all the three questions were: NO, I don’t.
Okay, so it’s not my heart. Then what is causing me to suffer that terrible, terrible pain at my chest, near to where my heart is?
What was puzzling was that the excruciating pain was located right at the spot where my heart is. Short of comparing it to childbirth pains, a thing which I could never experience, I would have to compare it similar to the agonizing pain that I felt when I had stones in my bladder.
As usual, I am always a die hard and I needed to understand what was the cause.
Last night, just as I tucked myself in bed to sleep, the same pain at the same spot returned for a second and at almost the same time as the previous night. It was 10:30 and the pain lingered till 11:15. I kept massaging my left breast, tried to do a Mr. Bojangles in the air and yet the pain refused to relent.
Now along comes Doctor-to-be Miss. Khek, who is my youngest son’s sweetheart. She is now doing her housemanship stint. She informed that what I am suffering is peptic ulcer. WHOAAAAA!
According to her, the pain from peptic ulcer radiates and cause back pains. Lying in prone position aggravates the ulcer pain , something that I noticed too.
I scrambled to find out more about peptic ulcer and Oh my badness!, there were issues that confirmed that this petite houseman Doctor is correct.
Peptic Ulcer….
Signs and Symptoms:
* Abdominal pain with a burning or gnawing sensation * Pain 2 – 3 hours after eating
* Pain is often made worse by an empty stomach; nighttime pain is common
* Pain may be relieved by antacids or milk * Heartburn
* Indigestion (dyspepsia) * Belching * Nausea
* Vomiting
* Poor appetite
* Weight loss
Risk Factors:
* Heredity * Older age
* Chronic pain, from any cause such as arthritis, fibromyalgia, repetitive stress injuries (like carpal tunnel syndrome), or persistent back pain, causing long-term use of aspirin or NSAIDs
* Alcohol abuse * Diabetes may increase your risk of having H. pylori
* Lifestyle factors, including chronic stress, coffee drinking (even decaf), and smoking, may make you more susceptible to damage from NSAIDs or H. pylori if you are a carrier of this organism. But these factors do not cause an ulcer on their own.
(Items in BOLD reflect my situation.)
Okay, I am not going to copy and paste the entire webpage here and waste your time reading. Hahaha.
Well guys, what am I to say about Lainy? Her problem was so alarming since last night and continued into the morning. I told her to rest and finally screamed at her to go and see the Doctor.
She relented only after lunch hour at her Office. She was ordered to be confined in Hospital just moments ago at 14:10 pm.
I will be confined in hospital windy.
One word: Deservedly.
No, let me make it a few more words: She asked for it. It was coming!
Hell mannnn! I just can’t explain this woman anymore.
She throws caution and all good advice to the winds. What does she expect to happen to her fragile health condition?
It was only last week that I messaged her something like this.
Lainy, you’re so sick, you would make any Doctor sick of treating you.
For one, I am not the kind that panders on sympathy when I fall sick. It needs one to be resolute; to take the right remedial actions to get better and stay better. Therefore, I do not subscribe to the oft heard advice, that if you’re chronically sick, don’t dwell on it. “Live life to the fullest”, they say, “and do what normal healthy people are able to do.”
That kind of sums up what Lainy has been doing year in and year out – pretending that she is not chronically sick and that she can live like normal healthy people do. That’s tragic.
I hope that this time, they keep Lainy confined “CRIB” which means Complete Rest In Bed for as long as she can afford to pay for the confinement. I hope that they don’t allow her even to walk to the Comfort Room and that she does her toilet routine, lying down or seated, right on her bed.
Lainy needs a few damn hard lessons to learn to respect her body.
Her devotion to work is outright ridiculous. Her waking up at 3 in the morning filial piety to attend to her Church duties is outrageous. Her trying to please everybody except please her own health. These and many more stupidities will one day drive her to the brink of no return.
I have said this to her before. For whatever you think you’re doing it right, neither your Employer nor your Church nor the friends whom you please at your own health risk and sickness, NONE of these will ever be there to pay for your medical and hospital bills.
Breaking News!Breaking News!Breaking News!
While almost completing this Article, Lainy messaged me exactly this just moments ago…
Gosh. No vacant room. Only ward. ;-( ;-( ;-(
I say: Good for you Lainy. Live stupidly and don’t complain!!!
“
General Santos Time
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