Been in Royal Perth hospital since Thursday… it’s now Tuesday and I am officially losing the plot.
Came in with severe pain, still here, still in pain, still no gallbladder out because apparently we have to wait for a “special scan” before they’ll even consider operating. They’ve been saying since Saturday I need this scan… then today told me they couldn’t get me in until Friday.
So I ring myself. Have a lovely chat with the techs about my situation. (Single mum, 700kms away from home. High needs kids, pretty important job etc and I’ve been here since Thursday after being in my local hospital for a week aswell for the pain)
Now it’s magically booked for tomorrow morning 🤷🏼♀️🙃
Meanwhile the doctors are like “maybe we can discharge you until Friday” even though the ONLY thing keeping my pain remotely under control is an inpatient med (good ol horse tranq in the form of a gummy). So… send me home to suffer?? Except I can’t just go home. Home is 700km away. Can’t exactly afford a few nights nice accommodation close to the hospital either. (I still have rent and bills to pay and now going on 3 weeks no work and running out of leave)
The hospital situation itself is… something.
Started in a shared room with two Alzheimer’s patients who needed constant supervision, so there were carers in and out 24/7 having full volume conversations like it was a café even at 10pm. Which was fine that night because I’d just had a procedure and whatever sedation they gave me knocked me out so hard I could’ve slept through the hospital collapsing on top of me.
But during the day? Different story.
The poor old guy next to me knew he’d had a bowel movement. Calmly, clearly, repeatedly telling them he had a movement. They kept brushing him off, telling him he was fine and not to move.
He wasn’t.
They left him sitting in it for an hour.
AN HOUR.
The smell filled the whole room and honestly it was just awful to watch and smell. He was advocating for himself and getting ignored. I ended up going off because how does that even happen while two pcas are sitting there chatting about their weekend plans.
Since then I’ve been moved to another shared room… with no window. I’m also not allowed to leave the hospital, so it’s just fluorescent lighting, recycled air, and zero concept of time. Feels like a low-budget prison experience at this point.
The sedation has now worn off and I am WIDE AWAKE. In pain, starving, overstimulated, and hearing every single noise like it’s in surround sound.
And the food? I was on “clear fluids” which apparently means hot water and powdered stock like some DIY soup kit from hell, plus jelly that tastes like regret. They even confiscated the snacks I’d managed to get earlier because I’m wasn’t allowed to eat real food. Never got them back (RIP MY SNAKES!) First real meal I got to eat was jerky, sauce and veggies. None of it had any flavour. Convinced the nurse to let me go to level 3 for a snack and she did (bless her heart! I love her). Hot chippies and a banana bread later I was satisfied for a while.
Plot twist: I can’t even tolerate the clear fluids or real food anyway and I’ve lost 15kgs in almost 3 weeks and I swear to god if I’m offered another nutrijucoe (literally nuclear waste) I might actually cry again.
So here I am, stuck 700km from home, in pain,not sleeping, not eating, managing the worst pain of my life with Panadol and sometimes a little bit of ket, being told to wait for tests I hade to organise myself.
I just want this pain gone and to go home.
0/10 experience. Do not recommend.