I have been having very odd dreams lately. The latest one was a nightmare. Having been locked in my house since March I had somehow broken free. Next I was in Covid-land being administered to by astronauts peering out of helmets. They were kind. Next I was on a carousel being flung into random hospital beds only to find there was already a body in the bed. I found myself left in a cupboard with an amazing view over London. I reverted to imagining myself on a plane. Clouds and sunsets and dawns filtered through the window. The ‘aeroplane’ loo was a wet and yucky., god only knows what trouble the other ‘passengers’ were in . I threw away anything that got wet or maybe contaminated. I dreamt the big brother master minding this flight was called Eric.

Alas. Twas no dream.

Well here we were in the middle of May . Boris addressed the nation. You can go to work. Or not. Shop or maybe not. See friends but not family. Cleaners can work but unless your grandchildren are your cleaners you cannot see them.
Golf. Ah yes. Play golf.

As for those like me carefully shielding for so many weeks ….well not a lot seems to be known about them. Maybe they’ve all jumped out of those windows we were urged to open.

Tempting thought that. After weeks of off on off kidney bladder infections antibiotics and trying to sort it at home, things took a turn for the worse this week.

Unbelievably hot and shivery and sweating yet another infection hit hard over Monday and Tuesday .. by Wednesday exhausted and tearful I found myself in A and E. Amazing incredibly efficient process. Security guard on the door. Masks, hand sanitiser dispensed immediately.
The checking in was incredibly easy speaking through a perspex screen so shiny and clean no virus would have dared to lurk.
The smiley kind lady seemingly knew my name , my doctor and what and where I should be. Not least because they had been told I was coming. On a normal day in A and E I guess the patients might be say 25% drunkards, 25% broken limbs and maybe 50% ill. On this particular day in hospital there was one drunken man wandering around with clanking plastic bag, one man with a broken looking foot and 2 ladies looking ill. Me and another! That’s all. No children. No families . Just us.

My temperature was taken immediately on check in. I never did get to sit down even 2 metres from the 75% rest! I was hastily escorted to “majors”. Not realising what that meant I found myself in a glass box. I was connected up to monitors and asked a million questions by men and women in full PPE. Peering at their hot and sweaty faces all I could see were their eyes. They were incredibly kind so reassuring so calm. They used a software package called ERIC* to interrogate my GP records and hospital records. So they already seemed to know my history my drugs my everything. That was amazing. I just hoped they were accurate.

As you probably realised faster than I did, they were worried about Covid 19.

A swab of throat and nose was dispatched to the lab. Very soon after that maybe about an hour, the result came back. Negative. Phew.

Next it was a scan for kidney. I waited ages with my invisibility cloak on whilst masked up scrubbed up people rushed back and forth. Back in the covid pod, a cheese sandwich had arrived and a little juice carton. Feeling too pewky I rejected the sandwich and sipped the juice.

Later after discussion and not having had fluids painkillers or antibiotics I agreed I should stay and not go home. A decision not taken lightly. But given I was some way from home and knew iv would help enormously, seemed sensible to stay. I was wheeled off to the wards.

Wrong decision !

The poor A nd E nurse wheeled me from bed to bed on a ward finding a body in each. So much for 2 metre rule let alone shielding!

The ward sister just yelled at us and told my accompanying nurse to put me in the corridor. There I sat feeling dreadful. I tried to stand up find the ward sister and say really I can go home I can see you are busy. Its ok. She just looked at me yelling into her phone telling a relative how to get food to a patient incumbent…….as I tipped out of the wheelchair, dropped the stupid sandwich and all my papers. Well, that got them going. Sandwich was returned to the plate ( They must have been confident the floor was clean!), papers returned to my hand. Me back in chair . Miraculously a bed was found. I crashed out there. Nothing to drink. 5:00 ish I got a pillow. Kept my coat on to keep warm. 6 ish a man from pharmacy arrived. Noted all my home meds and locked them in my cupboard. I stumbled around to find a toilet. A shared one. So much for shielding !

IV antibiotics arrived in the evening sometime.

By 11:00 pm a ward sister arrived. All hustle and bustle. I asked if I could have my home meds from the locked cupboard.

You do not have any meds she said. As she peered at her computer I call ERIC.

I do said I.
You don’t.

Please could we open the cupboard and see? I asked fighting back the tears. She did. Of course to her disgust there they all were. She stormed off as I began to sort the drugs.

A bit later she came back, calmer, apologetic.

Look I said. You are working under a lot of pressure. It’s weird times. Don’t worry . I’m supposed to have a name band. Im supposed to have dvt stockings on. You are supposed to check my home medication, administer drips and note the allergies. Here take my physical notes. My letters, my gp records I handed over. Just because ERIC doesn’t show it doesn’t mean it is not true. Here take my notes… here’s the evidence. And by the way could I please have some painkillers and a drink of water.

In due course ERIC was duly appeased. Painkilling drugs delivered and by 1 in the morning all was calmer. I even had a name band! She explained her worries about working for NHS, shift work, travel Covid she was a really tired stressed out young nurse coping …only just.

I must have slept a bit. I woke at 3:00 so hot and sweaty I took my coat off. Woke at 4:00 shivering. Put coat back on.  By 5:00 I gave up but just watched the dawn rise over London. High up as I was my cupboard window

I could not see the other patients in my corner. But over the not-so private-broken-privacy-curtains we said hello.

Nice ladies. None had had Covid test. Only I had. But one had glandular fever, another an infected finger and a third a hip . We all shared the bathroom. It was fine. But I did just hesitate when I remembered  my shielding letter from the Boris. That had told me not to share a bathroom at home , not to be less than 2m from anyone in my household and to open a window!

Well clearly that does not apply in hospital, not least because 6th floor views were stunning but no windows would open! No curtains to abseil with either. The ward sister arrived at 6:00 am for morning iv. She was happier and we chatted. She was worrying about not sleeping too much during that day. She was moving from night shift to day shift. Poor lady. Stress.

Tea and toast arrived. I’m not sure how that could be revolting. But it was. I then thought I’d do my morning home drugs as they had not been locked away after the shenanigans of the night.

As I began to count out the morning drugs a different nurse turned up.

“What are you doing”?

She tutted and strutted. In her rules  I was not allowed to take my home meds. They were meant to be locked away.

I just could not be bothered to argue. Off she bustled to get her ERIC computer screen. Staring at screen, not me, she pronounced my home meds were wrong. ERIC did not list them. I tried to say pharmacist had checked them. Night staff had updated ERIC. To no avail.

She just gathered up my meds. Put them in the cupboard and locked them away AGAIN. FFS.

I gave up. Useless. No point in arguing.

I tentatively asked for iv paracetamol. Always a great painkiller. No she barked. Try oral paracetamol and codeine. Because you cannot have iv at home we need you to get used to oral in hospital. I could not be bothered to tell her codeine and migraines are a bad combination  Oral paracetamol will not help as much as iv. I should know I’ve done the pain management course. I know the research evidence. I mean we cannot do operations at home so that’s hardly a reason to not do surgery in hospital. I did not say that. I just kept quiet. Tired and pissed off. It was illogical. If I did my own medication at home surely I could in hospital .

 Shortly after, this nurse pushed ERIC off round the ward the nice urology registrar arrived. I explained what had happened. Ah yes he said. The ERIC system sometimes blocks the meds. We can override it. He and his sidekick tapped away on the computer screen. Unblocked it. They spoke to the day staff. Miraculously iv paracetamol was produced. Home meds unlocked YET AGAIN. A nice jug of warm water was brought. Conveniently just out of reach. FFS

Daughter 2 arranged a delivery of  bottles of water and a sandwich. Phew. Needed to try to get fluids in as a crashing migraine descended.

The registrar had suggested I could go home. He suggested I get blood tests via GP. He suggested GP could organise iv at home which would be fantastic.

 Home we went.  I went in the back door stripped off, put everything into the hot wash with lashings of antibacterial. I left my shoes outside and showered and showered hoping to eliminate any covid shared bugs from that bloody ward.

Before evening managed to persuade Rottweiler receptionist at our GP that I needed a doctor call.

A random GP rang me back. I explained the need for blood test. I explained the need for iv.

Miracles of miracles ERIC had already sent the discharge letter electronically. That is amazing.

Well done ERIC. Wow.

Alas, the letter stated I had discharged myself against medical advice. AMA

Uh oh ERIC you bugged up.

Bollocks.  It is true that I had suggested I leave after I’d been wheeled around the ward ineffectually finding a bed. I had indeed petulantly offered to help them by leaving as they were clearly overwhelmed. But, no I had not discharged myself.

I explained to random gp, that I had not discharged myself. After warning me about the consequences of AMA, blah blah….She seemed to believe me.

She also read from ERIC that I should go to hospital for blood tests. But I am supposed to be shielded I said.

Oh really? She replied. Why is that? FFS. Miraculously she must have initiated a district nurse service. Or Eric did. A very lovely phone call later told me a nurse would come to my house to do the blood test on Monday.

Random GP did say if the Registrar could send her the culture results. She could arrange the hospital iv at home process. Well needless to say I do not have the results. The iv at home thing is just not happening but I will try to sort it tomorrow, being a Monday, maybe someone would help.

Back on the oral antibiotics again. Back to square one.

I will get more help tomorrow. But I am so worried about the NHS . The stress, the computerisation the maelstrom of breaking shields, cross infection and loss of simple empathy understanding and fundamentals of care. Water. Food. Drugs. Painkillers. What has happened? It is utter chaos outside of Covidland