So there I was ladies and gentlemen, in a much better room, still hooked up to an IV. Though cleaner, I felt slightly miserable. Being in hospital was now feeling like a never ending story. A new doctor came in and took some blood from me for the millionth time. He said that this set of blood tests may determine how soon I’d get to go home. A little part of me wished as hard as I could as the blood was drawn, in the hopes it would magically change any results that would keep me here any longer.
As he left, a nurse came in and gave me a menu for the day. I, a self confessed food addict, had not even thought about food for the past few days. The TREACHERY. I know. The menu was pretty standard, it had things like sausages and mash, vegetable pie and ice cream for dessert. I picked the smallest serving size possible as I wasn’t too optimistic about eating properly. Oh and OBVIOUSLY ice cream would be my dessert option. Not long after, I was taken off the IV drip again, being told to try having water to maintain my blood pressure. I felt frustrated with myself for not being able to drink water and keep it down. It was such a simple thing after all.
My mum came to visit and could see I was partially down in the dumps, and asked the nurse if I was allowed to leave the room for a walk. She said I was able to, but not to stray too far from the ward. My mum helped me get up and then linked arms with me to make sure I didn’t fall over like last time (that seems to be my speciality in this process). We walked to the end of the ward, which took me a while even though it was a short distance. In a way, walking felt quite alien (more than usual that is, I’m so lazy!). An under ten minute walk had me out of breath by the time we returned to my room. I was shocked at how tired I felt, and fell asleep not long after.
After waking up, I felt my mood had lifted which I was grateful for. Not long after, my dinner had arrived which was vegetable pie and mash, with ice cream. I tried to eat as much as I could, but after three or four spoon fulls, I threw up again! The nurse came in and gave me a concerned look while she took notes about how much I’d eaten. I felt so queasy while my stomach felt like it was burning. I imagined little baby devils with pitchforks living in my tum, poking it for their entertainment (yes I know, I’m aged 22). The rest of the day went by in a blur of sleep, daytime TV and blood pressure checks. So far, I had managed to maintain my blood pressure with smaller frequent sips of water.
At about 3AM I was woken up by a ghost. Just joking! No Paranormal Activity stuff here. I was woken up though, by a nurse, who I’m pretty sure was real (or was she?). She informed me I was going to be put back on the drip as my blood pressure had dropped again. GREAT! She plugged me back in and I resumed trying to sleep.
I was woken up for a bed sheet change and breakfast which comprised of a small bowl of Rice Krispies and a glass or orange juice. I managed to have a few spoonfuls before bloating and queasiness set in. Again, a nurse popped in and noted down how much I had eaten. She called in a doctor who suggested I try some tablets to decrease the bloating and burning I was feeling after attempting to eat. The doctor also took another blood test, saying he would be back to explain the results as soon as he could.
Lunchtime rolled around pretty fast, and after taking one of the new tablets I was given the burning sensation reduced. HA! take that baby stomach devils. This time I had a jacket potato for lunch, and I managed to finish half before feeling like I’d swallowed an anchor. I even managed a spoonful of ice cream! The nurse gave me a nod of approval whilst noting down my progress.
The doctor returned and explained my blood test results. My Neutrophils (a type of white blood cell that fights infection) were still low, which the doctor was concerned with. He also explained that they could not specify a reason for my Sepsis, and that Gastroenteritis was an educated guess made by the doctors and stomach specialists. He even went onto say they may be able to investigate further if I ever got Sepsis again. On hearing this, I found myself mentally facepalming. I really wasn’t comfortable with the doctor making it sound like Sepsis was just waiting around the corner for me again!
For dinner, I had picked a vegetable pasty with a side of corn and a chunk of chocolate cake for dessert. I managed to finish just under half before the feeling of queasiness and bloating returned. I didn’t even get to have the cake! My sister had no problem finishing that for me, telling me it tasted pretty decent. *A moment of silence for not being able to finish my cake*
The next morning, I was woken up by being asked for another blood test. What loveliness to wake up to, eh? I was in a really good mood, as I had not been put back on the drip, meaning I was keeping a decent blood pressure level. Whoo! As I attempted corn flakes for breakfast, a doctor came in with the results from the test. She said I would be discharged today, but my Neutrophils were still slightly below borderline. This meant I would have to book in another blood test with my GP in two weeks time to ensure my Neutrophils were back to normal, along with a check on kidney and liver functions.
A nurse returned not long after, giving me leaflets on after care. She removed the cannula from my hand and quickly put a plaster on it, telling me it would heal up fast. It felt good being able to move my hands like a normal person! The things we take for granted eh?
I felt so happy to be going home! The doctor returned to say if I were to have high temperature or get sick again, to immediately come back to A&E. She also stated I should have my room disinfected to avoid getting sick again, as my Neutrophils were still slightly low. The nurse helped me pack my stuff, and before I knew it, I was on the way home.
Little did I know, my journey to recovery was only just properly beginning.