fredag 29. juni 2012

Fall and hospital, 06.05.12

THE FALL
                                                                 Mwananchi hospital Mwanza   

Sunday 6.5. 4.15 pm.

First I asked Agnes to let me wait a while before getting up but then I found out that I could not get up at all! My left knee was falling aside and I could not stand on it, a very strange feeling I can tell you, very weird! Some men helped me to a chair on the road where I had to wait for a doctor. While I was sitting there I had a strange experience. A pastor came by and asked me if he was allowed to pray together with me. I agreed and he put his hand on my head and I felt a strange power come into me. It made me very calm.

In the meanwhile Lydia and other relatives came to help. I thought of an ambulance but they arranged an orthopedist. It was very painful to be carried in the car. He drove to a hospital but there was no access to x-ray. He told he was very sorry that we had to drive to a hospital he would rather avoid because the x-ray room was on the third floor with no elevators and no stairs. Four men were pushing me up to the third floor and I chose not to think what would happen if they slipped me. Coming up there were three watch dogs barking and showing their teeth. Just before the entrance was a big hole they had to carry me over. The x-ray showed that I had broken my thigh and needed operation. Woops the dream that they maybe could put the leg in its place again was gone. The young, competent doctor said that he could operate me but that he had not the right machines to do it so I had to be transported to either Dar-es-Salaam or Nairobi. Agnes started the first of many phone calls to the insurance alarm central in Denmark. The doctor decided that I should stay in that private hospital to avoid more transportation. 

I was brought to a room with again a dog in front of it, the building was open, so when you got out you were in the open air. The nurses understood little English so Agnes had to translate. They cleaned the bruises on my arm and gave me an injection with pain killers. Four women had to carry me to the toilet and all that time with a broken thigh! They could not supply a nightgown so I had to sleep in my clothes that were very uncomfortable to lie in. I was thinking of the commercial an insurance company has in Norway what can happen when you are in a far away hospital where maybe a cleaner draws out the power to hover, meaning that the patient was not attached to machines anymore.

There was only one position to sit/ly so after a while I did not know what to do with so much pain. The doctor was called and I got a second injection. Agnes and Lydia were sleeping and snoring! in the other bed. The insurance company was terrific, they were calling and organizing. Lydia was really great, she is a nurse herself and she followed us all the way to the airplane. 
                                                                                         
                                                                                                         Mwananchi hospital Tanzania
             
                       

In the morning Lydia’s sister came with breakfast. Apparently you did not get that from the hospital. Lydia and Agnes took a taxi home to collect our things and were just in time before the ambulance came to fetch me. While I had contact with the insurance upstairs about clearing the bill, meanwhile the family downstairs paid the bill without me knowing it. They wanted to help as much as they could, I really appreciated that. In the ambulance the stretcher had no breaks, so in swings a porter and I had to hold so the stretcher was not sliding away. At the airport a small plane from Flying Doctors was waiting for us and I had to cry, realizing that a whole plane from Nairobi came to pick up little me. It was very painful every time I had to be moved. It looked very difficult to get into the plane with a stretcher but no that was no problem at all. They used air mattresses and traces to slide the stretcher into the plane. I told them that I am so grateful that there are strong people! It is not easy to be forced to accept help from others, being unable to do it yourself. A female doctor and a male nurse were accompanying us. It turned out that they both live very near where I live. The flight took 1,5 hour. I have always wished to fly over the Maasai Mara and now I did, only in lying position. All the time they were checking on me how I was. It calmed me down that Agnes could come along and I am very grateful that the insurance made that possible. 

This time in Nairobi a very modern ambulance came and drove us to Nairobi hospital. Entering this hospital was coming to heaven compared to the other hospital. They did several checks on me and gave good information. I got lunch right away that Agnes consumed, because I had no appetite. They arranged a single room for me, I could share a room but the insurance arranged this, and I was driven to x-ray again and to the ward. Agnes could not do anything more and went home. The doctor who would operate me came and gave information about the procedure. The next day at 10 am I would be taken to the theatre. Theatre??? That is how the operation rooms are called. For me theatre is something joyful, not this. The doctor (Indian) was very friendly and calmed me down saying no one likes to go to the theatre, when I told him that I never had been operating before. There was no choice: I could not stay in bed the rest of my life and by the way then I should get blood cloths so then I had to miss my leg. He made me feel very confident that I was in good hands.

Later the Indian anesthetist came by. I had three choices: complete sedation, half sedation with me being drowsy and half sedation. Complete sedation is more unsafe because of possible heart -and long-complications. I have also heard from people who needed a long time to get in themselves again after complete sedation. So I choose half sedation with a puncture in the back and me half sleeping. The anesthetist acted very experienced and I trusted him. I astonished myself being so brave. I have no other words than compliments for the staff at the ward. They were very efficient and professional. The hygienic and ethical standard was very high. They did what they said they would do and I got very good information all the time. And they had time for you! The food was very good, you could choose all kinds of dishes for breakfast, lunch and supper. I had a jug with treated water all the time. Tea breaks with cake. I must say I often had to force myself to eat, no appetite at all. But they were checking on me saying that I needed it. Maybe it was good that I had not got so much sleep the nights before or just that I surrendered to everything what was going on. And after all that transportation it was so good to be there. I had a strong dream that night that deceased people I was very close with, stood around my bed offering me comfort, saying that everything will be all right. 

The next morning I decided to try not be part of all this, that it just happens around me. A nurse came to remove my nail polish on my toes that could react under the operation! The doctor came to tell that there was a delay of an hour. The whole time I was imaging the moment that they would take me to the operation room, until it really happened. I kept my eyes closed, but had to sit right up to get the puncture. A very strange feeling arose in my legs, like they were air mattresses. I did not want to see the operation room. I got a glimpse of the doctor in green with a cap. A nurse was asking if I could spell my name and really, I said, do I need to do that now? Later May-Lisa told that they were checking on my drowsiness so it was not only a stupid question. But I could hear everything, the carpenting on my leg, the drilling. Every time the doctor said: shoot. First I was waiting when I should feel the cut but found out that they were operating already. May-Lisa was telling me later that you get a headphone with music on in Norway so you do not hear what is going on. At the end of the operation I felt pain when they were sowing (later it turned on that they were using skin staples) and the anesthetist told later that I could manage that, he did not want to give more than absolutely needed. Leaving the theatre I got a glimpse of the hammer they had used to fix me! After 1,5 hour I was brought to intensive care and was so relieved that it was over. Back at the ward I slept for several hours and was very pleased that Agnes and Kiboi came to visit me. The next day Kiboi came with beautiful roses which made the whole room smell roses the day after.

Nurses came in and out, checking all kind of things also during the night. I had pain and got pain killers but I could manage, not more than before the operation. So that was a good experience. All the staff was very nice, people came in for all kind of purposes. Someone took the mosquito net to wash it; cleaning people coming in, and people bringing the meals. When the watch changed all the nurses came in and there were many students. I had a great time for being in a hospital. The next day Doreen and Philip came by to say hello. And Lambert who also visited his grandmother in the same hospital. It was sad that she died the Monday after my discharge. She was 90 and very sick, but it is sad when your grandmother passes on. But Lambert had the attitude of let us celebrate her life and be grateful for her life. The day after the operation Albert, the physiotherapist, came with a frame and I made some steps around the bed. The next day I had to go out on the corridor to train walking! I also got stockings that help the blood circulation. The doctor in Mwanza had told that I already could walk one day after the operation and I could not imagine how that would be.

I had a television in my room and there were two channels with only movies. Not that it was possible to see a whole movie, something is going on the whole time. And a few hours in the middle of the day they saved power. Boring was the generator at night, making electricity but also a lot of noise. Every morning the doctor came to visit me. Two times a doctor from the insurance called to hear how I was doing. There was a good contact between the two doctors. But the one in Denmark was talking about me getting back to Norway. Where would I live then, my house is rented out and Christian has a three level house. I begged them to let me stay, convincing that I was in the best hands. More people came to visit like two sisters of Agnes and Cornel and Fatuma. And Cornel and Lambert found out that they knew each other from before, from primary school. They were talking about that I maybe had been an African queen before. That I came to Kenya to take care of others while now it was the other way around. Payback time! And as I had sent out sms to many I know, there were a lot of calls and sms from different countries and that was really a great support for me. I am sincerely grateful for that! Agnes said that I now was a part of the family and it is great to experience to be part of an extended family. Even brothers in law were calling me to wish me soon recovery. I was again in good hands.

On Wednesday I went for a scan because the doctor wanted to measure the density of my bones as he assumed that I may have osteoporosis. Well it is a severe form 4.2. It will take three years before I get well again. All the time I have the chance to fall again and break again while it is very important to walk a lot, to really put weight on the bones. I have to take calcium the rest of my life. And for these years a calcium injection every three months. (Later on I found on the internet that the cause of osteoporosis can be use of medicines for a long time, smoking, physical inactivity or not having enough hormones. The latter happens to women over 60 years. Later the doctor told that it is risky to give hormones to women above 60 because of cancer). Well that was a lot to digest.

On Friday the physiotherapist told me about the process further on and thought I was maybe very optimistic and needed a bit reality. Suddenly I got afraid not to get my mobility back and I got depressed. I could not help crying and the nurses were worried: the lady is crying! and two came to talk with me. They offered me a counselor but that I can manage myself or I could call Doreen or Lambert. The physiotherapist came back to calm me down. And I did not want them to call the doctor who was not supposed to come to the hospital on Saturday morning but he came and talked to me. I will get 98% of my mobility back. To meet this doctor impresses me very much; he is very calm and has an inner peace that makes that when he enters the room everyone gets calm. He is such an up-raised person, has such a lovely being, it really struck me to meet such a person. I told him that I am very grateful that he studied and worked hard for years to be able to do such operations, he is very competent. He looked being bit embarrassed. I am grateful that he came on my way.

And I did not wish to fall and be operated but at least I know what is going on and can do something about it because osteoporosis shows no symptoms. The doctor was surprised that it is not a routine in Norway to scan the bones of women above 60. But I have to over win the fear of not falling again. I say to myself that that simply does not happen.

The attitude of people around me has helped me a lot to be positive. Of course they say sorry for what happened to you, but now you will get better with the help of God. It is more thinking from this moment, today, and looking forward and not backwards. Of course also people around me started to reflect on life, that you should not take things for granted. Just such a small thing as falling on the street, that that can have so big consequences.










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