I realise that title may be a bit confusing when you read this post. Their wheelchair lift wasn't working at the time and their toilets were up five steps which I had to walk up...with help! Ok, maybe I should just tell the story as you're now thinking I'm just lazy and can actually walk fine.
What Happened...
It was just after three o'clock and we'd just finished Christmas festivities including lunch and secret santa at Headway. If you're wondering I got two MASSIVE bags of sweets - thanks, secret santa... whoever you are. A few of us decided we didn't want to go home yet and as we were in the vicinity of several pubs, it would be rude not to have a few festive Guinesses.
It was suggested we go to the Lamb but I soon torpedoed that idea as it's main entrance was up a large step. The side entrance had a portable ramp up to a door that was barely wide enough to fit my wheelchair through. I knew without going in that this was a pub that had done the bare minimum to tick the 'wheelchair accessible' box.
Hogarths
Tony suggested Hogarths as it had a sign outside that says wheelchair access.
There is a small seating area to the left and the right when you enter and a wide staircase with five steps up to the rest of the pub - notably the bar and the toilets - directly in front of you. It was a disabled toilet though so I looked around to see what their solution was for getting up to it. The solution was the wheelchair lift in the corner. It was one of those lifts that you roll onto, lower the arm, shut the gate and wait a few seconds for it to do the job of the stairs.
I immediately untensed.
I've stopped asking if there is a disabled toilet in pubs and restaurants as just about everywhere has them nowadays, but I can't help but stress about it until I know for sure.
I transferred from my wheelchair to a bench seat and proceeded to get 'merry'. Unfortunately, I'm a middle aged man and the effects of the Guinness hit me sooner than I expected. I got into my wheelchair and Kim helped me into the wheelchair lift. She was probably still experiencing PTSD from our coffee a few weeks previous. And I'm sure she wasn't surprised that I couldn't get the lift to work. Her natural assumption was that I was doing something wrong - which was highly likely. Try as she might, it wouldn't budge though. We called the manager over who couldn't get it working either. He said it was quite temperamental and in the new year he wanted to remove it in favour of a good ol' fashioned ramp. He was very apologetic and said
"it's not going to work I'm afraid."
I looked at my not quite finished pint - I told you, I'm getting old. I can't even finish a pint without a pit stop.
I don't like not finishing a pint and all that stood in my way was five steps.
"It's only a few steps, there's a bannister I can hold on to with my right hand. If you can support me on my left side, I think I can climb them."
"Sure no problem."
I wheeled over to the steps, grabbed the bannister and hauled myself up to standing and with my left arm being held walked up the five steps. I stood at the top waiting for my wheelchair to be put behind me with a smug grin on my face, like I'd just conquered Everest.
TOILET watch
The room was quite small. I say small, I interpret a bathroom as small if their isn't room to put my chair side on to the toilet. I appreciate this isn't something most other people would be concerned with. But it means I can retract one of my wheelchair arms and transfer easily onto the toilet. There wasn't enough room to do anything but roll up to the toilet and then roll backwards to return to the pub. It was a perfectly useable disabled toilet though. There were grab rails and the sink and hand dryer were at a suitable height. It was locked with a lock that could be opened by a radio key.
Hogarths 4/5:
I used the facilities and then called the manager over to help me back down. I descended Everest and returned to the remains of my pint.
We remained here for the next four hours and I went to the loo after every pint. There were a couple of guys sat at the top of stairs who made it there job to help me... repeatedly. As you're aware I don't tend to walk nowadays and when I do I heavily lean on the person helping me. Considering I was getting drunker and drunker everytime I returned to climb Everest, I was probably leaning quite heavily on this stranger. He didn't seem to mind though and when he left told me any of the others will help me.
DRINKING ESTABLISHMENT watch
I liked it here and will go again. They treated me the same as any other paying customer not as a requirement they had to fulfil. The fact that they had acknowledged this was a problem, hoped to change it in the near future and actually thanked me for my understanding. This attitude is one that I don't always receive and too often I get a simple 'sorry'.
Hogarths 4/5:
The next drinking establishment I visited only had upstairs toilets. I had to go to a nearby establishment to use their disabled toilet.
That dry-run hadn't gone fantastically well - I'd managed to get lost on a straight road. When I asked my brother to pick me up from Manchester Oxford Road Station on this occasion rather than meet at the venue, he answered "YES" before I even finished asking. He obviously wasn't keen on the idea of walking the streets of Manchester trying to find his idiot younnger brother
Heading to Manchester
Me and Daniel
I was attending Headway - they offer support for people who have had brain injuries - which is only about half a mile from the train station. I had to be there in timeto catch the 16:03 train to Manchester Piccadilly to see an evening with John Cleese. Well not WITH, I don't know Mr Cleese personally, but as it's fifty years since Fawlty Towers first aired, he had booked a theatre where he would chat and answer questions from host Angelica Bell, as well as answering questions from the audience. I have always loved Fawlty Towers. My Mum and Dad had both series an VHS and I used to watch it over and over again, it's the first time I remember laughing over and over again at the same points, even though I knew what was coming. Plus Connie Booth was seriously hot!
Connie Booth
I got onto my trustee steed (iM.4 Elite), even though it was raining and I've already spoken about not driving in the rain!
I broke my own rules on this occasion though and put up with it for the five minute journey.
Stafford Train Station
I arrived ridiculously early. The doors are very wide (basically, the entire front of the station opens) and automatic. A convenience that many establishments don't have. they quite often have heavy manual doors that open outwards that require the operator to be able bodied to use. The ground inside the station is as flat as humanly possible. Doors to shops inside are either open, or - as is the case with Starbucks - as automatic door.
Passenger Assistance
Special Assistance
I had booked special assistance on the phone and they informed me the ticket office was on the right, they also informed there is an app that enables you to book your train and any assistance you need all at the same time. Granted this is only the second time I have booked special assistance at Stafford Station, but the train operator - Avanti West Coast - make travelling completely stress and worry free. You are looked after and put onto the right train as if you are a six year old travelling for the first time. Actually, some people might find that a little patronising, so I should say that's my experience of them, however I understand that's very much because I give off the impression I'm a six year old travelling for the first time. The person behind the desk radioed for assistance, but as I was super early I decided to make use of the facilities first.
TOILET watch
I asked the person behind the desk where the disabled toilet was and he said outside on the first platform...I imagined a tiny brick outhouse with just a swinging saloon door to offer privacy. What I got was a stand alone building that was behind a radar key lock. I unlocked the door, the whole room lit up and on the far side of the room about ten yards away was a toilet. The emergency pull cord that is usually by the toilet is by this entrance door...erm, what? Hang on! That's right, I did say that it's by the door! About ten yards from the toilet? Oh and the pull cord is tied up and out of reach unless you're about five feet tall, which - if you're unaware - I am not. I would say that rarely (if ever) has a disabled person who has fallen, been able to get up, walk ten yards and reach for the pull cord. The room was incredibly clean however and big enough to hold two or three toilets. There are retractable grab rails either side of the toilet and fresh toilet roll hung on the toilet roll holder. Unfortunately because the panic cord is out of reach, I can only rate this toilet
3/5:
Upon my return I waited a few minutes and somebody came to meet me to take me to the correct platform. The train wouldn't arrive for ten minutes so he left me on the platform and would return with a ramp.
He returned just before the train arrived and set up the ramp to enable me to get on. Thanks to my previous dry run, I now knew that the corridor before I get to my seat is very narrow and continuously curves to the right, so I retract my foot rest before ascending the ramp so the wheelchair isn't as long and I have more space to manoeuvre. Unfortunately I then forgot to lift my feet when climbing the ramp. My feet hit the ramp and didn't move any further. The wheelchair gets to the ramp and doesn't stop. The result: My feet are pulled under the wheelchair. I immediately stop and reverse while the assistant is asking "are you ok?" "Yea fine" I reply in a high pitched tone trying to hide my absolute agony. I get onto the train and am stationed opposite the luggage
During this journey to Manchester Piccadilly the train driver comes to see me to confirm I require assistance getting the connecting train from Manchester Picadilly to Manchester Oxford Road.
Network Rail
As I learnt on this journey, the train operator for Manchester Piccadilly is actually Network Rail. Avanti West Coast liaised with them and somebody is waiting for my train and deploys the ramp as soon as the door opens. It's all completely seamless, I assumed both stations were run by the same operator. I am taken on a brisk walk to the next platform and on the way a change of personnel occurs as the baton is handed over to another member of staff. We arrive at the platform for the connecting train with about ten minutes to spare. She waits with me and we have a good natter while we wait, this may seem quite a small thing to most and some people may just have waited with me in silence as all they were here to do was escort me.
In fact...
TRAIN ASSISTANCE watch
This is only the second time I've booked assistance and I haven't had to make any difficult requests so far, all trains have been on time and I've done nothing but sit quietly while playing on my phone. I haven't even had to use the train toilet (something I hope will be a continued trend). The only slight difficulty I faced was on my previous dry run when I went to the toilet in between my transfer in Manchester, and rather than rush to get the connection the passenger assistant just booked me onto a slightly later train. The person assisting me engages me in small talk and stays with me and sets up the ramp onto the train. I can only rate both train operators 5/5...so far.
Avanti West Coast 5/5: Network Rail 5/5:
I'm on the connecting train for about a minute. As the train stops at Manchester Oxford Road and the doors open I can hear the familiar clacking as the ramp is being clipped into position.
Arriving in Manchester
The train arrived pretty much on time at 17:23 which meant it was dark and although the rain wasn't heavy, it was enough to land on my glasses lens and make it harder to see. Take into account that I can't see very well in the dark anyway and I can only see through one of my lenses, I was grateful Daniel was waiting for me at the main entrance. It was much busier now than the last time I was here and it requires a lot of concentration and basically just staring at the ground in front of the wheelchair to make sure I don't run over anyone's feet or bang into their heels or the back of their legs.
We walked the short distance from the train station to where the car was parked. I was basically being guided by Daniel, I was staring at the ground in front of the wheelchair again. I was struggling to focus on anything. The headlights, street lights, traffic lights, lights in buildings etc meant my eyes were darting around and couldn't focus on one thing. It was the ultimate trust exercise as I would wait for Daniel to say "ok" so I knew when it was safe to cross the road.
The car was parked behind O'Connell's and there was plenty of time before the show started, so we stopped for a pint...or two.
DRINKING ESTABLISHMENT watch
There is no denying O'Connell's is a nice bar. It was quite busy, there's nice decor inside with custom built open cupboards housing full bottles of whiskey/wine/spirits etc and glasses of various type and novelty lamps. There isn't a lot of floor space and fortunately one of the few tables that I was able to use was available. Many of the tables are tall with tall stools surrounding them. There generally isn't enough room between the tables. The surrounding road is cobbled and the entrance is in the middle of a concrete platform which is about 2 - 3 inches above the cobbled street. There was no ramp and nobody around to help, Daniel had to help me up the ledge, as the power from the wheels alone couldn't get me up.
O'Connell's 2/5:
The Show Starts in Ten Minutes
Ooops. Daniel checked his watch and it was 18:50. The doors opened at 18:00, the show started at 19:00 and we were 11 minutes away. The iM4.Elite has a top speed of 4mph and the driver can't see very well. Daniel is barking instructions at me as if I'm a sheep dog. I cross at crossings when he says it's safe, I wait when he says it's not. We arrive five minutes after the show starts, I have driven all the way at top speed and I haven't maimed anyone. I'm an atrocious driver when my sight isn't hindered, so this was quite a feat.
Royal Albert Hall, Manchester
The Royal Albert Hall is a brilliant, accessible venue. Even though it's an hours train journey away, it's one of my preferred theatre destinations. Theatre's are generally old buildings and in some cases are listed buildings which prevents changes to the building.
"As we are a very old building we do have a lot of stairs, so we use a lift for wheelchair users..."
This was in the email I received when I booked the tickets. I greatly appreciate it when it's acknowledged that they are aware their hands are tied and they can only do the best they can with the hand that is dealt them. I'd imagine getting planning permission on the grade II listed building was a slow, frustrating process that had many bumps in the road.
We arrived - albeit late - showed our tickets, picked up my free copy of the Fawlty Towers book. It took a little time to be taken to the lift and even longer for the lift to arrive. I think I could have climbed the stairs in the time it took for the lift to arrive. The theatre is on two levels, the ground floor where everybody is sat on chairs and the second level which circles the stalls below. Everybody is sat on cushions on the raked steps or in the raked seating area. As we entered the theatre the usher pointed out there was a disabled toilet should I need it during the show. I said I didn't need it, which would prove to be not true as I needed it five minutes later. I was sat as far away from the toilet as is possible. We were late so the house lights were off, people were having to move so I could get to my seat. Those same people had to move again as I went to the loo. Oh, and again as I returned to my seat.
He was only on stage for an hour but it was good to find out exactly how the show came about. Nobody asked if John Cleese performed his own stunts. Surely he didn't give that car a thrashing with a tree branch on his own?
Unfortunately it takes about 20 minutes to return to the ground floor as there is quite a queue to use the lift, it's tiny and every time it descends it stops to have a fag break.
I got to Manchester Oxford to find that my train had been delayed, the special assistant came to find me though and informed me there was another train that changes at Stoke and would get me back before my original train. Once again the stress of the situation was taken off me and I was escorted to the new train. Unfortunately the train sat stationary for about 30 minutes and arrived at Stoke shortly before my original train wos uld have arrived in Stafford.
I'm not sure who the train operator is at Stoke but this was by far the worst experience I've had. It was close to 11pm by the time I got to Stoke so I'm guessing anybody handles a special assistance request if it comes in. Somebody was waiting with the ramp. I descended the ramp and it became obvious that he wasn't going to offer any further assistance. I asked him what I do now and he pointed ahead and said "wait there." I wasn't quite sure where "there" was as Stoke appears to have 1 huge platform. After about 20 minutes of waiting I decided to ask somebody what do I do. A train had just pulled up which happened to be the train to Stafford. As I approached someone to ask them where my special assistance is, he asked me "do you want this train? It goes to Stafford."
That was fortuitous I thought.
Maybe I have been spoiled by the assistance I've received so far and maybe they were going to assist me, but I didn't give them the chance.
While the weather has been good, I've been getting the bus back from Headway the two times a week I attend. As the weather gets colder and wetter I'm less and less enthusiastic about standing under a bus shelter. But while the sun is out I'll give my disabled bus pass an airing.
Things have changed since I last took the bus. I would say it was about 2002. I think the buss route was called "University Hospital". We had a Queen, Will Young had recently pipped Gareth Gates to the Pop Idol crown. David Beckham's foot was front page news as there were fears we couldn't win the World Cup without him and Arsenal were the current Premier League champions. It was an Arriva bus, there were 2 busses running simultaneously - in opposite directions - so they would pass each other and would arrive every ten minutes.
Buspass
America still had a BUFFOON in charge though, so there is some symmetry.
Select Bus Services now control this route and the bus comes every twenty minutes, but apart from that, everything else is much the same. Apart from the bus is red...or white...or red again but with leather or plastic seats, but apart from that, everything else is much the same. Oh yea the route is different and it's now labelled "Highfields" instead of "University Hospital".
Why do things have to change? Yet another thing that was better when I was younger. I was at the hospital recently and just assumed I could get the bus back, I asked reception where I could catch the number 9 bus from and I was told it doesn't go the hospital.
The drivers are very pleasent, there's a real close community vibe, some of the passengers know the driver and vice versa. It's like something out of Gavin & Stacey;
"Alright Jean? Just been down the shops?" Says the bus driver. "Yea, back home now for a cuppa."
People are chatting to the driver from there seats. Again something that has changed from when I was younger, I don't think I ever saw the driver conversing with anyone.
Maybe not EVERYTHING was better when I was younger.
In general there drivers are nice and friendly, but inevitably there are times when the bus I'm waiting for already has a wheelchair user on and I have to wait another 20 minutes for the next bus and hope I'm not made to wait again. The first time this happened there were several of us waiting at the bus stop. A lad kindly told me to go in front of him but I said he should go first because they'll have to get the ramp out. He got on the bus and I heard the driver say to him
”We've already got ONE on."
The driver didn't move from his seat. He didn't even tell me, he told the person who briefly spoke to me when the bus arrived. The passenger looked back at me and I gave him a smile and a thumbs up to acknowlege I'd heard. The driver let the rest on, shut the doors and left. I was fuming. I've never been referred to as a collective before. I felt like an unimportant object. He treated me with such unimportance that I got straight on my phone and put a post on Facebook.
I bet he'll think twice before he does that again!
In fairness, this driver has been on duty a few times since and he's perfectly nice. He even asked me where I would be getting off so he could get the ramp ready for me.
This happened again some weeks later as there is only room for one wheelchair passenger. On this occasion I was the only person at the bus stop, so when the doors opened the driver said "I'm sorry but there's already one wheelchair on board and there's only room for one. I'm afraid you'll have to wait for the next bus, but it shouldn't be too long." Fine I thought. I'm well aware there's limited room and at least the driver acknowleged me and apologised for the inconvenience.
Unfortunately as I said in a previous post - https://www.wheelchairworries.com/2021/08/wheelchair-seats-sure-theyre-right-at.html - wheelchair access is often an after thought, and is nothing more than a box they need to tick. There is no consideration for practicallity and usability. All of the busses I have got on are incredibly narrow and there is barely enough room to manoeuvre the wheelchair. There is always an area at the front of the bus to store thangs like push chairs, which is of course a necessity, but does it have to be so wide. Couldn't some of that space be used as floor space? Whatever is stored in there is folded up and rattles around as the bus moves, so it is already too big for what it's storing.
That was my first thought when I went to the toilet and the toilet bowl looked like somebody had been murdered. I wasn't in any pain so I contemplated ignoring it, but this wasn't a bit of blood, it was enough for a small blood transfusion. The absence of pain meant that I couldn't call 999. It was late afternoon so there was no point phoning the doctors surgery as they would just tell me to call tomorrow at 8am when they have appointments available. I gave 111 a go and they were great, they asked me a few questions and made an immediate appointment for me at the hospital.
So I booked a taxi, bundled my trusty steed (iM.4 Elite wheelchair) in the boot, picked up my Mum and headed to the hospital.
I used Westside Taxis who I use several times a week. They've always been great with me, as I've said in a previous post the iM.4 Elite isn't the lightest chair but isn't so heavy it can't be lifted and stored in the car boot, allowing me to travel around. As long as you have kind and obliging people to help you.
An appointment had been made for me at the urology department allowing me to bypass the few hours I would have spent waiting in A&E. The urology department was completely empty and I was seen straight away. I had to give a sample on my arrival, which considering the total privacy I had, was one of the more dignified experiences during this whole process. I was then called in to see the consultant and - as this is a hospital I had flat floors, incredibly wide corridors even some of the doors are widened. Nobody was here, there were no stretched out legs to navigate and no obstacles, which as you'll know from previous posts, I am to driving what Stevie Wonder is to arts and crafts.
I enjoy speeding around hospitals, it's almost like they're designed so it's easy to move around.
Upon testing the sample I'd provided, the consultant wanted me to go to the A&E in Stoke. He wasn't overly concerned and didn't bundle me stright into an ambulance. He didn't hold the test tube upto the light, sigh, slap me on the back and say "good luck". He didn't recoil in suprise at the blood red "urine" sample I'd given him and ask "HOLY SH*T, WHAT'S THAT?" So I wasn't too worried, but he was insistent that I went to A&E.
I bundled my trustee steed into another taxi and made my way to A&E. Stoke A&E is vast. There is a massive reception desk with several stations for many receptionists. There are different areas to wait in depending on your injury/illness. There is plenty of room everywhere and it's quite enjoyable to zoom around. I think people questioned how poorly I really was as I clearly wasn't in any discomfort and was more interested in taking advantage of this ideal motorised wheelchair environment. I was called into triage within minutes, it was confirmed what I was in for and I would need to wait for several hours to be seen.
Yes I was in a hospital and yes there was some issue with my insides, but because of the iM.4 Elite I had independence, granted, my Mum was with me, but let's not focus on that.
A few hours went by and I was called in to see the doctor. It took all of fifteen minutes. He had a feel and a prod of my stomach and once he'd determined I wasn't in any pain, went off to speak to another consultant to determine the next course of action. He returned to say they wanted to do a CT Scan to see exactly what was going on.
A swell guy
Now, I could moan about how it had taken several hours and 2 taxi trips which weren't exactly cheap just to tell me I needed a scan. I'm not going to do that though because I'm a swell guy... and this whole process had actually shown me with the aid of my trustee steed I was far more independent than I realised. If this had happened a few months earlier I couldn't have done anything about it as my dad was in Scotland at this time and I would have needed him to get to a hospital.
Nowadays if I start pissing blood I can at least get to a hospital on my own. Sort of.
About a week went by and I was summoned to Stafford County hospital for a CT Scan. I called upon Westside taxis again, bundled my trustee steed into the boot and made my way to the hospital, again!
This was my first CT scan and much more pleasent than an MRI scan. A CT scan doesn't require you to wear ear defenders that have no affect on the volume of the cacophony of noise the scanner is making. I wasn't cocooned in a metal tube, I wasn't given a panic button incase I got claustrophobic. A nurse didn't stop the scan half way through to inject me with something.
The scan took about 20 minutes and I didn't want to fork out for another taxi, so I used my trusty 'dad' card and got him to pick me up.
My Journey from Headway to hospital
Next, I had an appointment at the hospital again for a 'fibre optic examination of the bladder'. Now I'm not great at medical jargon, but I was fairly sure that meant they would investigate further with a camera. I was also sure of how they were going to get access to the bladder, and, well I consider that an exit, not an entrance thank you! I got the impression they didn't share my views though. I happened to be attending Headway brain injury clinic that day, so I made my own way up to the hospital. Headway was halfway there so I only had another 1.9 miles to go. It would take quite a long time to get there, but that was something I was getting used to now. I arrived for my appointment and was immediately taken into a side room where a nurse assisted me with shedding all my clothes and putting on a hospital gown. This is a process I tend to conduct in privacy as it requires all kinds of wiggling and contortionism. It's certainly not recommended in a tiny room that's little bigger than a stock cupboard.
Nice wide doors though, I can't fault the door width.
The floors were nice and smooth again and there was acres of space. Although I didn't feel like zooming around anymore.
I was called in to a decent sized room with 5 people in. There was enough space that we weren't tripping over each other, but we were in quite close proximity. Let's not forget one of us was in a hospital gown as well, a gown that was only secured by the full weight of my arse while I was sitting in the wheelchair.
Again, good wide doors though. I couldn't fault the door width.
One of the people was clearly the consultant and I'm guessing the other 4 were students. The consultant had my CT Scan on display as I walked in. The CT scan at the top of this post is the best I could achieve using 3rd party software, but I couldn't replicate the x-ray that was on display. The scan that was showing when I entered the room showed the full extent of the issue - 4 kidney stones. One of them was a whopper - 1.6cm.
"You've got 4 kidney stones, 2 in each kidney." the consultant enquired.
"Fair enough" I thought as I started to turn around to go straight back out hoping he wouldn't want to stick a camera in me.
"Even though we know you have kidney stones, we should just look with a camera to check there's nothing else there." Bugger!
"Have you had some previous surgery?" The consultant enquired.
The cable that is connected to the shunt in my skull was coiled up like a sleeping snake in my stomach. Any fluid that collects around my brain is sent down this tube where it releases. Now, I'm no genius but this cable was about the height of me, but was only needed for the top half of the body.
Am I the only human that's not biodigradable?
I transferred onto the bed with the help of 2 nurses. As I had got out of my wheelchair the gown was no longer secured, fortunately my modesty was covered. Until I lay on the bed and was instructed to bend my legs at the knees creating an arch. Unfortunately, a nurse had positioned herself at the foot of the bed. Surely she knew what view she was going to be subjected to? I believe she quit with immediate effect and now works in finance.
Report Urgency: no alert Verified: verified by Clark Alexander 22 May 2025
Three-phase CT urogram
Right kidney lower pole 0.8 cm 1100 HU non-obstructing calculus. Right kidney pelvis 0.8 cm 1200 non-obstructing calculus. Minuscule non-obstructing calculus in the lower pole on the right. Left upper pole 0.9 cm 960 HU non-obstructing calculus. Left kidney pelvis 1.6 cm 1600 HU non-obstructing calculus. Left lower pole 0.4 cm diameter non-obstructing calculus. On the delayed phase no upper tract urothelial lesion seen.
Other findings;
Uncomplicated-looking VP shunt or similar. This probably accounts for the shallow peritoneal liquid.
Moderate faecal loading throughout the colon. Several tiny bilateral kidney cysts.
Chronic bilateral L5 pars defects. Mild thoracolumbar scoliosis. Bone density is little on the low side considering the age. Right-sided dynamic hip screw.
I got off the bed and back into my wheelchair thus securing the gown again by sitting on it. I apologised to the nurse who had stood at the end of the bed but she couldn't hear me over her hysterical crying. I went back into the stock cupboard accompanied by a nurse to get dressed. I assured him I could do this on my own, he responded by saying he's not allowed to leave me on my own in case I have an accident.
Now people like to say the phrase "it's health & safety gone mad" I say "whoever came up with this idea of Health & Safety for every day tasks was a perv."
Nice wide doors though, I can't fault the door width.
I returned for my procedure a few weeks later. I had opted for keyhole laser surgery. They would go in get the 2 stones next to each other (there are 2 stones in each kidney) and obliterate them. Depending on the location of the stones, they may need to fit a temporary stent. 3 out of 5 people experience pain or discomfort. *Spoiler alert* I had a stent. I did experience pain. It would last for about 3 seconds when I passed water (which is constant - your bladder holds as much water as a sock). It was like a stomach ache that would rapidly increase and have me closing my eyes and wincing, but then it was gone. I don't know if that puts me in the 3 of 5 category or the 2 of 5, but it's not anything to write about...
I didn't think too much about this procedure as I thought "I've been in hospital before, for a whole year, I can manage 1 night!" And I was right, but what I had forgotten about was the loss of dignity, although on this occasion I wasn't completely helpless and could move.
I had a few weeks back at home, knowing that I had an appointment to have the stent removed. This would be a 20 minute procedure under local anaesthetic. I should have been enthused that they felt this procedure wasn't intrusive enough for a general anaesthetic, but I was focused on the fact that they put me to sleep to insert it but thought I was fine to be awake and witness them sticking a camera down a NO ENTRY ZONE...AGAIN! I didn't even get a gown this time, I had to undo my trousers which felt even more embarrassing. A third nurse had to be called upon to help retrieve it.
But, dignity has returned... temporarily. I get to experience all this again to destroy the remaining 2 kidney stones.
I am grateful the stones haven't taken it upon themselves to extract themselves though. I believe that is excruciating.
