A Dire Week

 For several days I had been getting night sweats, and my temperature spiked to 39+C. Finally I phoned the GP and was surprised to be given an appointment the same morning. He diagnosed a chest infection and started antibiotics, which seemed to do the trick. But then, for a few days, Ann was ill with a fast pulse reaching 150+, and a feeling of pressure on her chest with breathlessness. At first she thought it was heat exhaustion from the unseasonably hot weather we had had (it reached 40C on one day - a UK record). But as it went on, she too phoned the GP on the Monday after I'd seen him.

Ann, 24 hours in a chair 

We really cannot fault Dr Bone. He ordered Ann straight down to the surgery, listened to her heart, and sent her up to see nurse for an ECG which he reviewed with her as soon as it was ready. He looked serious and said she would have to go to hospital at once, through the A&E department as an urgent assessment. He even phoned the hospital to prepare them to take her through as quickly as possible. But at the hospital things happened less smoothly. I was not allowed in due to persistent Covid restrictions, so left her at the door, going on to wait at Edwin's for further news. It was six hours before Ann was finally seen for a blood test and repeat ECG. The A&E department was overwhelmed with patients, many standing waiting, others sitting on the floor for want of chairs. They could not find even a trolly bed for Ann, but when I finally visited late at night she was in a tiny curtained-off bay next to resuscitation, still in a chair like a dentist's chair, but old and worn with the lining coming through. She was confined to that chair for 24 hours, with sleep impossible, and the following afternoon had been given nothing to eat nor even a cup of tea. Edwin brought some juice and sandwiches, and later in the evening she was transferred to an "assessment" ward. There, she did have a bed, but it was complete bedlam with beds being wheeled in and out all night, demented patients shouting for attention, a psychotic patient screaming about the voices telling him to end his life, and some violent drunk being restrained by the police who had to be called. The old lady in the bed next to Ann finally went silent: she had died there alone. 

Next day, I was finally able to take Ann home. She had probably had a heart attack, Although the gap of a few days meant the acute changes were missed. Ann was put on  a beta-blocker to control the heart rate and anticoagulants to prevent blood clots breaking free with the potential to cause a stroke, and an appointment with the cardiologist tomorrow. Later we heard that that Monday was their all-time busiest on record, to the point where they would have to close A&E completely and divert all ambulances to other hospitals. Ann is still getting very tired, but hopefully is on the mend, and we will finally get the verdict of a consultant soon.