Wednesday, 19 April 2017

THE MYSTERY OF THE ORIGIN OF SEPSIS

Four days in a blue box and then suddenly, huge windows overlooking fields of gold, a giant chessboard and the brief sounds of children playing.


I have been admitted again. For the third time this year - and the manyth fever spike. The Mystery of the Origin of Sepsis continues to baffle. Is it Infection or is it The Lupus? The awful perennial question. For the doctors it is a problem that must be solved to avoid over treatment. For me, although I have an equally honed detective instinct, the clues all occur in the same body. The same mind must control the same fears and maintain a ninja like balance.

In the blue box with no windows - let us call it MDU or Medical Decisions Unit - lives Rosie. Rosie's husband Dave was brought into hospital and since he is her carer, Rosie was admitted at the same time. For much of each day and each night, Rosie keeps her coat on and her handbag tucked neatly into the crook of her elbow, ready to leave. Not a word in her strings of sentences makes relevant sense, but must surely make perfect sense in the world she inhabits all by herself. T'was quite alarming having Rosie peer round my curtains like a friendly bat looking for her mate. It was only on the last night when another patient with dementia arrived, one with a particularly nasty tongue, that Rosie's comparative sweetness shone through. A lost little bat, in the entirely wrong cave.


And then I was wheeled away to be transferred here to Hepatology. I waved royally to my fellow inmates as Greg The Porter deftly manoeuvred my bed past them - you lucky duck, said Brenda, turning green, thinking I was heading home (although how I could leave, bed et al...). It was my opposite neighbour's 78th birthday and she was teary hugging me goodbye. We make friends fast in the blue boxes...

Margaret wasn't allowed flowers in MDU, not even birthday roses... but here in Hepatology, my cousin Imran, dressed in an excellently cut suit jacket, brought me Chicky Chocky Speckled Eggs and a delicate bouquet of pink and white posies. They'll have to wrestle the posies away from me...


4 comments:

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I am sorry you are back in, kiddo, but glad they are keeping a sharp eye on you. Sepsis is a worry. Your posies are beautiful....like you. Rest and get better. Today I carried home potted tulips for my porch. The hummers have gone mad. I sweetened the nectar and started a hummingbird war at the feeders, lol. They zoom about like they are on crack, bumping into things. Tonight I am worried the tulips might be chilly. We are still waiting for spring this side of the pond.

Anonymous said...

I too am so sorry to hear you are in the hospital again. I send you my best wishes in hope that you soon are home and enjoying Spring.

Glenda

Kenza said...

Sweet Shaista: Happy to see you are writing again. I have missed reading you. I am sorry for what you are going through.
all I can do, from so far away, is paraphrase a poem by Omar Khayyam that goes a bit like this:
"Stand-up, my heart, and take your luth. Let's play!
Let us squash infamie with a good song!
We shall sell my praying rug for some good wine
and shatter the ambiguous glass upon the stones."

jeje said...

yeezy boost 350 v2
supreme clothing
supreme clothing
air max 90
links of london
hermes belts
nike air force 1 high
air jordan 6
nike polo
stephen curry shoes

Click to leave a comment