Testing, testing...

Firstly I need to apologise to those of you who have been waiting for me to post about what happened at the Friday 24 hour levels testing thingymebob. I'm sure not that many of you have been checking my blog out, waiting with hooks all tentered and breath carefully bated. I'd know if I had one of them site meter doodah's which tells you how many visitors you've had - I'm sure someone can tell me how to acquire on of those - Jae?? :>

Secondly, I wanted to thank my friend Kitty and cousin Beth for ringing me after my last blog, asking if I was ok and when I said 'Fine' asking me if I was really ok?? I appreciated that. I think I've put my mum into panic mode and she thinks I'm not coping but I'm just trying to be honest and real about how things are, and they aren't always easy.

That said, I'd know if I was depressed, I have been before when I was on the Hep C drugs and I took anti depressents for a while. Now my main problems are physical not mental and I feel able to handle things mostly so please don't feel too sorry for me.

Back to my visit to the hospital in January.

I had to not have any treatment in the days running up to the tests to avoid affecting the results. Luckily other than a 24 hour gum bleed I had no problems that needed treating. I also didn't have any tranexamic acid, which bleeders can take to help stop clots from breaking down too easily. I have to say I don't find that stuff works that well for me but I avoided it anyway, to be on the safe side. I wanted to go to the tests with my very own levels all intact and unadulterated by anything else.

I also, luckily, had not started another period because bleeding heavily would have affected the results apparently.

Anyhow, I turned up at the hospital at just before 9 a.m. - the best thing about this being that I got a parking space right outside - notoriously tricky at any other time of day, even with my little blue badge.

Having gone up to the clinic on the third floor, I was greeted by the ever cheery Jill, one of my clinical nurse specialists. She's ever so nice and suggested that I use the social workers room when I wasn't in the treatment room, if I wanted a sleep or to read my book. Rather than sitting in the waiting area which is pretty dark and uncomfortable, and obviously full of other ill people!

She took blood to test my first set of levels prior to giving me any factor, then gave me 2000 units of factor VIII, and then straight after took the first of 8 lots of blood over the next 24 hours.

Half an hour later at 9.30 she took the next lot.

Then half an hour after that.

Then I had another two hours to wait, so I went and got a cup of tea from the cafe and had a teacake.

At about 12 noon Jill was ready with her kidney tray full of stuff to take my next donation for the labs. Each time a couple of test tubes worth was taken, good job it wasn't any more as I was already feeling pretty woozy. Saying that, they had also tested if I was anaemic prior to the levels testing and my blood count was 11.5 - pretty good really given how heavily I'd been pumping it out recently - and I think mainly down to the very good iron supplement I've been taking - Spa Tone it's called, highly recommend that if you're anaemic...

After that one I wandered off downstairs to get some lunch. The cellar restaurant is on the second floor - only kidding, it's in the basement obviously hahahahaha. So I went down to that as they've got a better choice of institutionalised meat and veg. In order to get there you have to walk through a low ceilinged corridor that you come across people pushing cages of suspicious looking items, body parts I like to think. And there are lots of filthy pipes dangling from the ceiling - definitely the sort of place you'll run into porters with pickaxes or psychopathic surgeons with scalpels.

Having avoided all the murderous members of hospital staff I found myself a reasonable looking bit of battered fish and chips and sat myself in a corner with my book. Nobody bothered me and I was able to while away a good hour there.

Back upstairs Jill told me she had got me booked into the ward for the night. My final injection of the day was not due til 9 p.m. and the next one needed to be taken at 9 a.m. on the Saturday. I much preferred the idea of staying a night on the wards than driving 25 miles home after the time I was normally in bed and driving back in at the time I was normally recovering from not sleeping that well overnight. I had brought my pyjamas and toothbrush in, just in case.

Two more hours were spent in the little social workers room, it had a desk and a sofa with arms that folded down so I could get very comfy. It was bloomin hot in there - it's too tricky to turn the heating down to a reasonable level and you gotta keep those germs nice and toasty so's they can breed. I had the window cranked open and was still struggling to stay awake. I'd got my boots off and feet up when Jill popped her head in to see if I wanted a cuppa - ooo yes please.

At about half three Jill took me round the corner to East 3 A, the ward where I'd be spending the night, and left me in the day room. I waited there for another hour or so, reading the magazines and listening to one doc quizzing another about a condition they'd just seen. He did quite well incidentally, no idea what it was they were on about tho. Think they thought I was a staff member - pretty idle one as I was just sat there, because when two other patients came in they tootled off smartish.

At 5 p.m. a nurse came in to take me onto the ward and take some more blood. Ward was ok, only four beds in there and one of those had curtains drawn around it. They said visitors were welcome any time really so I gave Ade the hubby a ring and he said he'd pop in after work and bring me bedsocks - ahhh.

No-one was too chatty so I got myself settled and was offered some nice(?) indeterminate stew for tea. Decided that I'd had too much lunch and opted to eat some of the semolina pudding and a banana. Yummy.

The lady in the bed next to me - with the curtains - had people with her but didn't sound too clever - literally. The nurses kept trying to talk to her and work out what was wrong but all she'd do was moan. They'd ask her was she in pain - uuuuur, was the response. Do you need more painkillers - uuuuur. You can't have any more because you wouldn't swallow the last lot - uuuuur. We'll try and sort you out some more iv morphine - uuuuur.

Poor thing. The trouble was different nurses would come and ask her the same questions, promise they'd get a doc to see her so she could be prescribed something iv, and then they'd forget and another would turn up asking the same questions. I felt like sticking my head in between the curtains and shouting - just give her something godammit!! Not sure why I didn't, guess it's just that English tendency to avoid getting involved in someone else's life if at all possible...

She also had at least three relatives with her at any one time so it was hard to see why they weren't doing more to communicate on her behalf.

Ade turned up with some socks and some flapjack, which I offered to the diabetic opposite and the lady on nil by mouth. Didn't try the moaner. Polished it off myself.

After my final jab for the night I settled down for a fairly sleepless night, what with 'uuuuring' on one side and some sort of generator outside the window on the other I managed dribs and drabs of sleep before being awoken quite late for a hospital at 7 a.m.

I was delighted to have my final bloods taken shortly after 9 a.m. - they obviously wanted my somewhat unwarranted bed back - and legged it, in the way of a bleeder with one arthritic ankle, limply for the exit.

Jill had said the results might take a little while to get, so I decided to ring first thing Monday, on an optimistic whim. I'd be interested to see what they said as I don't remember ever having my levels studied this way before....