By 5pm Friday the 28th February I found myself in East Ward, bed 12 of the Peter James Rehabilitation Hospital in Burwood East.
Before I begin I just want to give a huge shout out to all the Staff at PJC (Especially my crew ” Mamma Mia” “Van Helsing” and ” Strawbs” as well as Tahlia, Debbie, Ken, Kylie and a heartfelt Namaste to my favourite orderly Will) who gave 110% every day to look after not only myself but everyone in the Rehabilitation ward at the Hospital.
Upon my arrival I was stressed out, sleep deprived, pissed off and on the verge of a complete break down due to having the equivalent of one hour of sleep the night before due to complete mayhem in my ward at Box Hill hospital the night before.
Having said that, the two folks from the Patient Transport Unit who took me to PJC were lovely and happily informed me my new hip was made from the same stuff that the stretcher they had me on was made from – so it was bound to last me for many, many years.
With that piece of information tucked away to be used as ‘bragging rights’ for later on, I began my stint in the Rehabilitation wing.
Despite being built in 1985 ( If my memory serves me correctly) East ward looks like something straight out of the 1950’s. Crisp white Hospital linen that had the life starched out of it and every bed had its own blue wrap around curtains for privacy. A light switch, a nurse call button, a TV and a landline phone – the only devices on hand ( Of course, everyone had their mobiles but man, it felt like I’d stepped back in time) Naturally the Wi-Fi was shit.. so, Hubby bought in our little pre paid dongle to cover me for my stay.
Over the days that followed, I had all my gear bought in to help me get around the ward. My manual wheelchair, my walker and the gutter frame that was given to me by Vanessa – the in house OT so when I was ready, I could walk. The nurses would often comment on my stuff saying it was much fancier than what they had on offer ( That was true. It was) I must admit I did feel a little bad but at the end of the day, I had to do what was best for me to help me get by.
Another thing that happened was that my Support Workers were allowed to be with me for half a day to help me get showered and dressed. This took a load off the day shift nurses it freed them up to assist other patients. My Husband was also doing his share with helping me throughout the day. He was very hands on with everything – wanting to know how everything worked so he could assist me better.
I have to say, my Hubby was my rock throughout this entire ordeal. He was there for me every single day. Never left my side. I had a couple of really bad nights while in PCJ and when I woke at 6:30am the next morning, there he was, sitting there quietly waiting for me to wake up. I am majorly proud of him and honestly, he’s just been amazing. Even when I’ve wanted to just throw in the towel he’s been there with unwavering support and plenty of tissues to wipe away my tears.
Anyway, my first week consisted of going to the rehab gym and learning how to put one foot in front of the other ( at time of writing, I am still learning how to do that. It’s a very slow process) and coming to terms with the new way of walking. I can’t remember if I said this in my other blog but I actually grew a couple of inches taller thanks to the operation so yeah, not only did I have to come to terms with a new way of walking but being a bit taller is also on the cards!
Gabby, my physiotherapist, was great and she certainly put your girl through her paces. She was always encouraging me or pulling me up if i did something wrong. By the end of my first week I could transfer from my bed to the chair beside it and from that to my wheelchair and visa versa. So, in recovery terms that was huge.
Around my 2nd or 3rd day, my Support Worker Miss S noticed how both my legs were swollen. The Dr was called ( A lovely Irish Dr called Hugh) and it was decided that I needed to swap out some of the meds I was on. Turns out it was all fluid and thanks to a change in medication, I was able to lose around 3kgs-4kgs (roughly 8.8 pounds) in fluid. I never needed to urinate so much in my life but it really did help!
I had 3 other people with me in my ward during my first week. We got along rather well. There was Marry-Anne who was recovering from a knee reconstruction, Peter ( sadly I didn’t find out why he was there. Although, he did tell us that he had 2 brain tumours in the past. I will write more about him in my next blog) and another lady whose name I can’t remember. She had, had a stroke and at that stage wasn’t doing very well.
Before I end this blog, I just want to say people give hospital food a bad wrap and I am here to tell you the meals I had were rather lovely . All of the vegetables ( I was particularly fond of the potato mash) I could eat. Breakfast was at 8am sharp. Lunch was at 12pm and dinner was at 5pm. Like clockwork. Each meal was like a 3 course on its own. I grew attached to their cordial ( weird I know) and no, I did not go mad for the jelly cups. They just didn’t appeal to me. At all.
There will be more to this blog – a part 3 – in a few days.
In the meantime, thanks for reading
Ceej
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