Will the dust ever end?
The plasterers arrived at 7.30 this morning. They needed a water supply and an electric socket - fortunately both were available in the basement, close to where they would be working. An amazing array of equipment had arrived on Friday and I was curious to see what it would all be used for. Unfortunately we had to go out for blood tests at the hospital so I missed seeing them set to work. It seems that whatever passes for plaster here is applied with a machine, I didn't see it working but the end result was weird and a tad worrying - lumpy and a dirty yellow! Thankfully that turned out to be the first coat. The second coat was smooth and grey, again applied with the machine. The machine has to be filled with the dry powdered 'plaster' and obviously mixed with water. The machine was positioned just below our naya, where I had three driers full of freshly washed sheets and clothes etc. Of course by the time we got back from the hospital there was yet again a thin layer of dust everywhere. I give up! Oh, and the plasterers seem to be of Easter European origin - it took me an hour or two to realise they weren't talking to each other in Spanish!
The visit to haemotology was interesting! For our first visit we were taken into the room where the blood is extracted without having to wait our turn. But the procedure is that you take a numbered ticket from the machine on the wall (a bit like the deli in Tesco's!), when your number comes up on the screen you go in and have your blood taken. Anyone having a Sintrom (Warfarin) test then moves round the corner to wait by the door marked 'Sintrom' (obviously) from which sometime later (anything up to half an hour) a nurse pops out with a sheaf of papers and proceeds to call out the names of the patients, each patient is handed their sheet which gives the following week's dosage of Sintrom. Some people need to be seen by the doctor, I think this must be indicated on the sheet because at first it seemed quite random - some stayed but most left the hospital after recieving their sheet. For some unknown reason, or maybe because it was our first visit, we waited well over an hour for Derek's results for which we saw the doctor. The INR was very low so the warfarin dose has been increased slightly. He's still anaemic so needs to continue with the iron tablet. We have to return next Monday. This particular clinic is open from 8.30 to 9.30 and it would seem to be a good idea to get there as early as possible. How successful we'll be with that is another matter!
Derek was so fed up with waiting so long, he insisted on going to the Ford dealership to look at new cars! The morning's excitement (!) and activity was enough to have him sleeping most of the afternoon.
And I put my feet up too - I had planned to clean the naya thoroughly but when I saw the dust was still flying around from the plaster machine I decided it would be a waste of time - I'm no fool!
I promised to tell you about the hospital food and the Spanish families visiting the patients. The food in that hospital is dire...... I was never there at breakfast time but Derek tells me it was mainly 'French' toast type bread/biscuit... whatever you want to call it. Nothing with it though. Both Lunch and Dinner consisted of soup and roll, a 'main' dish and either a piece of fruit or a natural yoghurt. The soup has me totally baffled. The first few days it was thin and varied in colour from dirty yellow to dirty orange. Then later it had fideos in it (fideos are like inch long noodles) and sometimes it was quite thick but without the fideos. I can't describe the taste, it's so awful. No seasoning but sometimes you could detect a faint flavour - fish one day, vegetables another. In the end I came to the conclusion the kitchen must have this vast tub of powder which they mix with water and then chuck a few packets of flavouring into it. The soup always came with two small packets of salt - believe me you needed to use both to make the stuff halfway acceptable. The best way of getting it down was with the bread roll. The 'main' dish was usually a piece of meat or fish, occasionally a rubbery omelette - no potatoes, pasta or vegetables! The yoghurt always came with a packet of sweetener. Until the last day Derek didn't have a single hot drink, it was either water or fruit juice. No wonder he was desperate for a decent meal when he got home!
It struck me while I was watching the way the Spanish carry on in hospitals that the older spanish ladies all look pretty much the same! Quite small, the same shape, same hairstyle (but in different colours - very few grey heads there!), similar clothes, and a tendency to sit with folded hands and crossed ankles. Most of the patients were older men and where there was a wife, without exception she would stay overnight and sleep in the reclining chair. During the day the rest of the families would visit en masse, and of course it is a requirement almost that feeding, washing and changing the patient and changing the sheets seems to be the responsibility of the family rather than the hospital staff. None of this UK nonsense of 2 visitors per patient and keeping quiet, it's as noisy as a market in there, and I think the half dozen Brits on the unit found it a bit hard going! Visiting is pretty much all day long. It was rare to find a spanish patient without someone by the bedside but quite commonplace with the Brits (except for Derek who wanted me there all the time!).
All in all, although it has been interesting, it's not an experience I want to repeat anytime soon.
Right, off to make a few phone calls and then put my feet up again. Neither of us are sleeping well so I'm napping whenever I get the chance!
TTFN!
The visit to haemotology was interesting! For our first visit we were taken into the room where the blood is extracted without having to wait our turn. But the procedure is that you take a numbered ticket from the machine on the wall (a bit like the deli in Tesco's!), when your number comes up on the screen you go in and have your blood taken. Anyone having a Sintrom (Warfarin) test then moves round the corner to wait by the door marked 'Sintrom' (obviously) from which sometime later (anything up to half an hour) a nurse pops out with a sheaf of papers and proceeds to call out the names of the patients, each patient is handed their sheet which gives the following week's dosage of Sintrom. Some people need to be seen by the doctor, I think this must be indicated on the sheet because at first it seemed quite random - some stayed but most left the hospital after recieving their sheet. For some unknown reason, or maybe because it was our first visit, we waited well over an hour for Derek's results for which we saw the doctor. The INR was very low so the warfarin dose has been increased slightly. He's still anaemic so needs to continue with the iron tablet. We have to return next Monday. This particular clinic is open from 8.30 to 9.30 and it would seem to be a good idea to get there as early as possible. How successful we'll be with that is another matter!
Derek was so fed up with waiting so long, he insisted on going to the Ford dealership to look at new cars! The morning's excitement (!) and activity was enough to have him sleeping most of the afternoon.
And I put my feet up too - I had planned to clean the naya thoroughly but when I saw the dust was still flying around from the plaster machine I decided it would be a waste of time - I'm no fool!
I promised to tell you about the hospital food and the Spanish families visiting the patients. The food in that hospital is dire...... I was never there at breakfast time but Derek tells me it was mainly 'French' toast type bread/biscuit... whatever you want to call it. Nothing with it though. Both Lunch and Dinner consisted of soup and roll, a 'main' dish and either a piece of fruit or a natural yoghurt. The soup has me totally baffled. The first few days it was thin and varied in colour from dirty yellow to dirty orange. Then later it had fideos in it (fideos are like inch long noodles) and sometimes it was quite thick but without the fideos. I can't describe the taste, it's so awful. No seasoning but sometimes you could detect a faint flavour - fish one day, vegetables another. In the end I came to the conclusion the kitchen must have this vast tub of powder which they mix with water and then chuck a few packets of flavouring into it. The soup always came with two small packets of salt - believe me you needed to use both to make the stuff halfway acceptable. The best way of getting it down was with the bread roll. The 'main' dish was usually a piece of meat or fish, occasionally a rubbery omelette - no potatoes, pasta or vegetables! The yoghurt always came with a packet of sweetener. Until the last day Derek didn't have a single hot drink, it was either water or fruit juice. No wonder he was desperate for a decent meal when he got home!
It struck me while I was watching the way the Spanish carry on in hospitals that the older spanish ladies all look pretty much the same! Quite small, the same shape, same hairstyle (but in different colours - very few grey heads there!), similar clothes, and a tendency to sit with folded hands and crossed ankles. Most of the patients were older men and where there was a wife, without exception she would stay overnight and sleep in the reclining chair. During the day the rest of the families would visit en masse, and of course it is a requirement almost that feeding, washing and changing the patient and changing the sheets seems to be the responsibility of the family rather than the hospital staff. None of this UK nonsense of 2 visitors per patient and keeping quiet, it's as noisy as a market in there, and I think the half dozen Brits on the unit found it a bit hard going! Visiting is pretty much all day long. It was rare to find a spanish patient without someone by the bedside but quite commonplace with the Brits (except for Derek who wanted me there all the time!).
All in all, although it has been interesting, it's not an experience I want to repeat anytime soon.
Right, off to make a few phone calls and then put my feet up again. Neither of us are sleeping well so I'm napping whenever I get the chance!
TTFN!
posted by CaroleW at Monday, January 15, 2007
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