Weekend at CGH: 6 Hours of Observation and Hunger
Since my Stroke 2010, I do not take medical advice or warnings lightly. Call me a “scaredy-cat”, and I will not deny you the satisfaction.
Remembering defiantly not continuing my high-blood pressure meds even when diagnosed, before the on-set of my Stroke, and regretting immediately upon waking up in the Acute Stroke Ward in 2010 for not taking said meds, I have since been diligent in the pursuit of any medical doubts, whenever applicable and feasible a notion, of course.
If my consulting doctor(s) say I need to do something, or something needs to be checked, I will try my best to sort myself out, even if it meant buying myself a piece of mind at the end of the hoo-ha. My priority since my Stroke, is medical affordability, with everything else a bonus in my life.
So when my “Family Physician” at the local polyclinic (*A designated term for a in-house physician you choose to visit everything you go to the polyclinic, in lieu if being assigned whomever is available - you pay an additional SG$7 for this “added / requested service” in your final consultation fee) says he needs to send me to Changi General to have my low-oxygen level checked out (and maybe COVID-19), then I will wait for the ambulance.
And the next thing I know, I am sitting inside a nurse’s room, and having an oxygen tank on wheels right in front of me, and a breathing apparatus shoved gently in my nose, and my oxygen level rose! Well, not enough, as the ambulance staff came in to assess me, and I am sitting upright in stretcher, heading down the polyclinic, up in the ambulance, and watching the back door from the inside, thru the windows out into the roadside trees and skies above.
In my nervous/panic’d/trying-to-be-calm-state, I become chattyAF. I exclaimed that this was the first time I’ve been in an ambulance, and that even when I had Stroke (which I did not know was “Stroke” then), we took a cab to CGH instead. Bless the ambulance staff for being extremely patient with me :)
Arriving at the A&E (Accident & Emergency), and being transferred to the Observation Ward - all the while fully conscious, and quite frankly “curious”, as I was intrigued to find out what was happening - which no doubt might not have been “fair” to the people working there, and lying on hospital beds, but I realised I became quite self-conscious when multiple questions were asked of me; “Do you feel breathless?”, “Do you find it hard to breathe?” And I realised it was all happening to me, so maybe I should not be too resistant to diagnosis, innit?
I realised I might have become those “uncles” who refuse their diagnosis and just WANTS TO GO HOME, like the 90-year old uncle lying beside me, who spent the better part of 5 hours - as I awaited at the Observation Ward, waiting to be transferred to a Day Ward - trying to convince everyone who would listen to him, that he wanted to go home. Kudos to the staff who parlayed him the entire time. Even I tried to talk to him, but perhaps fell on indifferent ears :p
I had by then mentioned twice to staff and doctors that I had not had my breakfast nor morning meds since the morning, but did not push for anything more, even of it was a biscuit or drinks, and so I sat in hunger past lunch time, as the food trolley was pushed around the ward (*I knew none was prepared for me, as the staff would have needed to ask in advance, to prepare the food). And by 3pm, I was given my lunchtime medication (Pills), with no sustinance. And by the time the staff changed over, and the evening’s doctor came to explain the situation and status to me, I mentioned for the 3rd time I have not had a meal, to which he made a fuss to his staff, which I appreciated the empty gesture, at the very least for max effort LOL
I had (over)heard much earlier before, when the nursing staff changed shift and handed over, that one of the out-going staff more likely stopped a incoming nurse from giving me anything, as “the day ward will take care of me instead”. Telling myself I did not want to be THAT uncle beside me, I kept my mouth shut, to which after all of this, I regret not speaking out, as it was an obvious pushing away of responsibilities, as by the time I was pushed out of the Observation Ward, it was early evening time at 5-ish. And to think that I was hoping I was transferred earlier at 3pm (when it was mentioned), I would at least be able to ask for a biscuit and a cuppa, maybe?
Sure, there might be tons of things happening that I am unaware of - needing to keep me unfed to diagnose me, or to observe how my body is yadahyadah - but all I could think of, is regretting not eating breakfast before I went for my polyclinic consultation. And its not just about the food. but that I had been diligently taking my daily morning medications, for the past decade without fail, and this would be the first time I am not.
It was clear at this time that I will not be going home by Friday night, but I certainly hope I’ll be getting dinner at least, right? RIGHT...?
To Be Continued.
Remembering defiantly not continuing my high-blood pressure meds even when diagnosed, before the on-set of my Stroke, and regretting immediately upon waking up in the Acute Stroke Ward in 2010 for not taking said meds, I have since been diligent in the pursuit of any medical doubts, whenever applicable and feasible a notion, of course.
If my consulting doctor(s) say I need to do something, or something needs to be checked, I will try my best to sort myself out, even if it meant buying myself a piece of mind at the end of the hoo-ha. My priority since my Stroke, is medical affordability, with everything else a bonus in my life.
So when my “Family Physician” at the local polyclinic (*A designated term for a in-house physician you choose to visit everything you go to the polyclinic, in lieu if being assigned whomever is available - you pay an additional SG$7 for this “added / requested service” in your final consultation fee) says he needs to send me to Changi General to have my low-oxygen level checked out (and maybe COVID-19), then I will wait for the ambulance.
And the next thing I know, I am sitting inside a nurse’s room, and having an oxygen tank on wheels right in front of me, and a breathing apparatus shoved gently in my nose, and my oxygen level rose! Well, not enough, as the ambulance staff came in to assess me, and I am sitting upright in stretcher, heading down the polyclinic, up in the ambulance, and watching the back door from the inside, thru the windows out into the roadside trees and skies above.
In my nervous/panic’d/trying-to-be-calm-state, I become chattyAF. I exclaimed that this was the first time I’ve been in an ambulance, and that even when I had Stroke (which I did not know was “Stroke” then), we took a cab to CGH instead. Bless the ambulance staff for being extremely patient with me :)
Arriving at the A&E (Accident & Emergency), and being transferred to the Observation Ward - all the while fully conscious, and quite frankly “curious”, as I was intrigued to find out what was happening - which no doubt might not have been “fair” to the people working there, and lying on hospital beds, but I realised I became quite self-conscious when multiple questions were asked of me; “Do you feel breathless?”, “Do you find it hard to breathe?” And I realised it was all happening to me, so maybe I should not be too resistant to diagnosis, innit?
I realised I might have become those “uncles” who refuse their diagnosis and just WANTS TO GO HOME, like the 90-year old uncle lying beside me, who spent the better part of 5 hours - as I awaited at the Observation Ward, waiting to be transferred to a Day Ward - trying to convince everyone who would listen to him, that he wanted to go home. Kudos to the staff who parlayed him the entire time. Even I tried to talk to him, but perhaps fell on indifferent ears :p
I had by then mentioned twice to staff and doctors that I had not had my breakfast nor morning meds since the morning, but did not push for anything more, even of it was a biscuit or drinks, and so I sat in hunger past lunch time, as the food trolley was pushed around the ward (*I knew none was prepared for me, as the staff would have needed to ask in advance, to prepare the food). And by 3pm, I was given my lunchtime medication (Pills), with no sustinance. And by the time the staff changed over, and the evening’s doctor came to explain the situation and status to me, I mentioned for the 3rd time I have not had a meal, to which he made a fuss to his staff, which I appreciated the empty gesture, at the very least for max effort LOL
I had (over)heard much earlier before, when the nursing staff changed shift and handed over, that one of the out-going staff more likely stopped a incoming nurse from giving me anything, as “the day ward will take care of me instead”. Telling myself I did not want to be THAT uncle beside me, I kept my mouth shut, to which after all of this, I regret not speaking out, as it was an obvious pushing away of responsibilities, as by the time I was pushed out of the Observation Ward, it was early evening time at 5-ish. And to think that I was hoping I was transferred earlier at 3pm (when it was mentioned), I would at least be able to ask for a biscuit and a cuppa, maybe?
Sure, there might be tons of things happening that I am unaware of - needing to keep me unfed to diagnose me, or to observe how my body is yadahyadah - but all I could think of, is regretting not eating breakfast before I went for my polyclinic consultation. And its not just about the food. but that I had been diligently taking my daily morning medications, for the past decade without fail, and this would be the first time I am not.
It was clear at this time that I will not be going home by Friday night, but I certainly hope I’ll be getting dinner at least, right? RIGHT...?
To Be Continued.
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