View From The PamCam

Today’s view from the PamCam is a bit of an emotional one. It’s nothing major, just the view of the main road near my house, but it’s what it represents that makes it so emotional.

You see, I have been in hospital for a little while and today was the first time I was able to walk outdoors for over two weeks. I am still in quite a bit of pain, and I can only walk with the aid of a stick at the minute, but boy, was this sight a welcome one!

I have been suffering with increasing back pain for a number of months now, and it was getting more and more difficult to move my right leg properly. I went to my GP (had to wait 2 weeks for an “emergency” appointment) and he sent me for a series of scans. In the space of about 4 days I had an X-ray, 2 separate ultrasounds and an MRI scan. The doctor rang me and left a message for me to ring him back, but I couldn’t get past the Receptionist who insisted I rang back the next morning at 8am. I tried to tell her he had rung me, but she wouldn’t listen. Anyway, I rang back the next morning and  – surprise, surprise – there were no appointments available. She told me I could see the GP in four weeks’ time, or I could try to ring again on Monday. I started to cry (you’ll hear a lot of my crying in the next few paragraphs) and she asked me my name. I told her and she said, “yes it’s urgent. Can you see the out of hours GP tomorrow at 4pm?” This was a Friday, so meant the GP appointment was Saturday. Of course, I went.

He gave me the results of the scans – I have a kidney stone – but I had reported other symptoms that raised a red flag to him. He basically said, go to A&E right now or you risk losing vital function in your legs, bladder and bowel.

I didn’t feel that bad at that stage, but I went, fully expecting them to check me over and send me home. He mentioned a phrase that at that stage that seemed frankly comical, but in the last two weeks has come to represent a complete nightmare. He suspected I had “corda equina syndrome”, which, once the orthopaedic surgeons at the hospital started talking about, took on a whole ominous dread all of its own.

The nurse put me straight on a trolley with the instruction “don’t move” and parked me in a corridor for the next 6 hours. I was tested by two different ortho surgeons and had a bladder scan done, and after a terrifying wait, was admitted to the ward at about 4am on Sunday morning.

The story here gets a bit involved, and I won’t go into detail, but briefly, I needed another MRI scan because the one I’d had done the week before had gone missing in the system and the doctors needed to see the state of my spinal cord. I couldn’t use the one in the hospital I was in (I tried) to and had to go to Trafford for a scan there. The doctor who fought for me to get there was AMAZING and we broke all sorts of rules for me to go.

That scan revealed major compression on vital nerves in my back, and yes, I w as a hair’s breadth away from paralysis. I was transferred to Salford Hospital, where I received an operation on Monday to clear space around my spinal cord so I could move my leg again and to retain those vital functions. It hasn’t cured the underlying condition which has made my vertebrae collapse, and it has left me with some complications which may or may not recover.

The hospital experience was quite traumatic because for 9 days I was on minimal fluids, no food and very little sleep because I was waiting for a slot in theatre but terrified of the continuing damage to my spinal cord. I was in a state of high alert all that time, and it has left its mark. I may be able to write about it at some point, but it’s too raw for now. I got through it all because of the love and the prayers from people outside. There were three nights in particular that were very hard, and I could only hang on because of their support.

I came through it though, and I thank God for all that has been done to save my legs and my vital functions. We have a journey ahead still, and for now I’m just waiting for the brusing to fade and the wound to heal before I think about that. For now, it’s a matter of strong painkillers, physio exercises, constant moving position, and gratitude to the individual people in the NHS who went above and beyond to get me diagnosed and operated on so quickly, and for my family and friends for their love.

So, you see why the little walk to the main road today was quite so emotional.

Hopefully my posts will return to more cheerful fodder soon, I promise I’m working on it.

Love and light

Pamster X x

13 thoughts on “View From The PamCam

    1. Yes, it did rather. They told me that I should have gone to them sooner, but as I said to them, when you live with a pain condition, and you tolerate pain so well that you don’t realise the danger, when it’s the right point to say there’s a problem? And, how do you get past the doctor’s receptionist with “back pain”? I would still be waiting to see my GP face to face if I hadn’t made a scene about him wanting to speak to me. She was insistent that it would be 4 weeks to see him, and to be honest, if I hadn’t broke down and cried on the phone, I would have carried on doing all the stuff i should be doing, but could well now be paralysed and have no bladder or bowel function. It’s frightening how precarious it all is.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I say, it is frightening, how this could have ended. I am glad, that you’rfe on the way to recovery now. 😘
        My prayers and B est Wishes arfe with you! 🤗
        Big HUGS from Australia! Uta 🌹

        Liked by 1 person

      2. The system is broken isn’t it? I was blue-lighted from Crumpsall to Salford at the request of the spinal team there, and I was still on a trolley in A&E for nearly 8 hours before I was admitted to the ward. Individual people are brilliant, but there are just not enough of them and the structures within the NHS are not fit for purpose any more. Salford A&E was unbelievable – it was every bit as bad as crumpsall for people waiting, but the department is four times bigger. It was a scary place to be, I can tell you!

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Ellen Brown

    You are going through the worst traumatic experience ever, so glad they eventually found out what was the cause of your pain and suffering. I will pray 🙏 you will be a lot better for Christmas. We have all missed you. Ellen Sophia and Margot xxxx

    Liked by 1 person

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