"From the highs to the lows"

This is a long one...

I was admitted to A&E having been found in type 2 respiratory failure. I can't remember seeing the paramedics or any staff in A&E as I was so unwell. 

I was moved up to MHDU, where I spent 4 days and the care I received was absolutely brilliant. I can't fault anything and wish I could remember the staff's names, but unfortunately I've forgotten. I was then transferred to ward 43 where again the care I received was faultless and the staff where always kind and cheerful. I spent over a week there and then I was moved onto my 3rd and final ward on the Monday night. 

This is when the highs became the lows of my patient journey. After arriving in ward 6, I was placed in a bay with another 2 patients. The nurses station was right outside and the noise during the night from staff talking, laughing etc was unbelievable (but as much as I couldn't sleep, it was nice to hear laughter). I had lost a lot of weight (9lbs) since coming into hospital (20 days) as I was lactose intolerant and I was supposed to be on an energy dense diet, this rarely happened, but was told by the dietitian that I can eat what I want as I knew my own body.

In the 5 days I spent in ward 6, I was offered a wash twice and I was weak so I needed assistance which I didn't get most of the time. I also needed help getting to the toilet, which was down the corridor. Many times I pressed my buzzer and after watching staff standing outside the bay on their mobiles they'd eventually come and switch the buzzer off. Sometimes they'd switch it off, leave and not come back. My daughter, who is a nurse, had to toilet me and help me wash and dress and get me out my bed quite a few times while I was in hospital as staff would switch off my buzzer then disappear, this is basic nursing care. As someone with severe copd I was left to lie in bed, even after I asked if I could sit in my chair. 

One morning a nurse put me on 4 litres of oxygen as she deemed my o2 sats too low, they were 88% which is the normal range for copd.

On the Friday after arriving in ward 6, myself and my daughter were told I was getting home that day. The Dr said they'd get physio to cast an eye on me and then I could go home. My daughter left to get things sorted and said she'd come in later on when I was getting discharged. The physio came and saw me and was happy for me to go home so I messaged my daughter to tell her. She tried phoning the ward multiple times, but was hung up on a few times. When she got through to a staff member it was nightshift who told her I wasn't getting home as physio needed to see me, even though that had already taken place.  

The next day my daughter arrived on the ward and I just cried and begged her to get me out of here because I didn't think I would last much longer. I explained that the housekeeper had taken away my soup, as they said they weren't getting in trouble for me eating leek and potato soup. Instead for lunch I was given 2 bits of dry bread and a banana (not even a knife to cut it). I was 38kg on admission and 33kg on this particular morning. My daughter then spoke to staff and said that I was for discharge the day before and that my medication and letter was sitting on my table. Again they mentioned about the physio and that I wouldn't be seen until the Monday or Tuesday and again my daughter said the physio had seen me the day before. A member of staff then got my notes and read that the Dr, physio and Dietitian were happy for me to go home on the Friday, the staff member then said that they were too busy to discharge me home. My medication etc were on my table and my daughter was coming for me, so everything was in place. Within half an hour I was out the door and within 2 weeks I'm walking longer distances on my own, have put on a stone and my mental health has never been better. 

I know the NHS is under pressure and they do a fantastic job under pressure, but I felt there was zero communication between staff and no basic nursing care in this ward. I was just left to lie in a bed even though I asked to sit in a chair many times then had the embarrassment of my daughter dressing me and helping me onto a bedpan, it was undignified to say the least. My mood was so low and hope I never have to return.

As I said before A&E, MHDU and ward 43 where brilliant. It's a shame that the experience of the last ward is what sticks in my mind most of all.