"The worst day of my life"

In October I got sick, I was vomiting profusely, bleeding heavily and in so much pain. I was taken to Antrim Area Hospital to get checked out and after waiting hours in the waiting room I was seen by a doctor who told me my kidney function was not good, they needed to admit me for observation and treatment. I was taken to a temporary ward and after a long night with no sleep a nurse came and opened my curtain, opened the window and refused to let me sleep.

A day later I was removed from that ward and told they had a bed in gynae for me. When I was taken there I felt scared but relieved, I could rest. Until they woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me they were moving me. My belongings were placed in my bed and I was taken to another room and left in the middle with no regard, nowhere to put my things, no privacy and nowhere to hide from the bright lights ( I have chronic migraines triggered by light).

I was finally seen by a gastroenterologist who told me they did not have time to see me but would be back tomorrow. I did not see them until the end of the week when they told me they still did not have time to see me and would make an appointment in four to six weeks (it’s been nine months and I just got an appointment). I was miserable.

I was finally moved to the side of the room where I’d have a curtain and somewhere to put my stuff, which did not last long. Two days later I was moved back to the middle of the room under the lights because I was deemed not high priority. I spent the next day writhing in pain with a migraine, begging them to turn the lights off and hiding under the covers and nearly passing out because of the heat.

Each day I was told I could not get my sweaty bedsheets changed because I only had a UTI and was going home. I was there for a week. I was in a bad way, walking to the bathroom was difficult and my mum had to come eventually to wash me because I couldn’t do it myself. Once I lost my balance and vision and had to call the help button because I was so ill, the nurse came eventually, stared at me without speaking, I told them I think I just need water and a minute. Five minutes later they brought me a glass of water and then left me sitting on the bathroom floor.

The lack of concern in that ward for me was horrific, on the last night I left to go outside I called my family begging them to get me home because I was treated so poorly. It was another patient who had seen everything that came to talk me back in. I could hear the nurses talk about me like I did not matter.

Two days after I was discharged I woke up in excruciating pain, I was vomiting and could not walk, I was rushed to the Royal Victoria Hospital, where I then sat in the waiting room going in and out of consciousness, writhing in pain so bad I wanted to die. I was vomiting in the bathroom and collapsing on the floor with my boyfriend in tears trying to help me. He called for a nurse, who helped me up then took me back to the waiting room.

At one point during my nine hours at priority one on the list as I was told, I had come to terms that I was going to die there, I will never have such a traumatic event in my lifetime, and I will never again be in this amount of pain again.

When I was finally seen by a doctor, they told me I had IBS (yet no symptoms of IBS) and that they would need to admit me to get a colonoscopy. My boyfriend told the doctor my pain was low and in the area of my ovaries. The doctor told my boyfriend that he could not speak for me, even though I could barely mutter I was in so much pain. I felt hopeless.

After more hours of waiting in another room, being harassed by a patient that clearly did not want to be treated and was a danger to those around them (their words not mine), eventually the same doctor who told me I needed to be admitted asap, came to tell me that the sister in charge would not let me be admitted and is sending me home because I had just been in Antrim Hospital. I was distraught at this point, the doctor apologised and told me I would have to come back the next day when the sister would have no choice. I did, and was left on a trolley in the corridor under the florescent lights for three days beside a busy main entrance door that gave me no opportunity for sleep. With no call button and no way to get the nurses attention. I was alone. 

When I was taken for an ultrasound it found I had a large cyst on one of my ovaries and a lot of free fluid in my abdomen, the doctor sent me home and told me that some cramping is normal for women, like that’s all it was. I now know from a private appointment it was ovarian tortion and I have multiple chronic illnesses. I had to leave school, stop working because I was so sick, my mum became my carer and I had to use a wheelchair for months. I believe that because of my age, my health was neglected and I was consistently refused help. In a life or death situation I have no trust in the NHS. I feel helpless.