Poor Hospital Caring

Poor Hospital Caring

You would think in the twenty-first century NHS hospitals would know how to deal with the disabled. When somebody disabled is admitted to hospital, they should be fully assessed to see what they can and cannot do.

The following is what happened when Pete was admitted to hospital for surgery.

As you know Pete cannot use a knife, fork or spoon and can only just manage to hold a sandwich. He cannot reach anything from a table whilst in bed, unless it is directly in front of him. Poor hospital caring is what he experienced.

When we were given the date for admission for Pete to have a bladder stone removed, we were told at the pre-op appointment, to point out the amount of care and nursing he would need, before admission, and to ask where he would be on the list for his operation, to calculate the best time to come up to the ward. This is because we have found, by his previous admissions, the nursing staff really have no idea how to cope with the disabled.

We were asked to telephone the ward one hour before he was due to be admitted, to verify there would be a bed available. When I telephoned the ward, I was asked for my telephone number and they would ring to say when a bed became available. I explained the severity of Pete’s disability and asked where he was on the “list”. At that stage they had no idea. They telephoned later to say a bed had become available. I asked if they knew yet where his position was on the “list” for operations. They said he was second to last.

Knowing he would have a long time to wait for his operation, and the state he has got into in past admissions due to very busy nursing staff, I asked if I could bring him in the next day. I was told, the doctors like them there the previous night. I explained the amount of nursing he would need but it was insisted he came in at the latest 6.30pm on the previous night before his operation. (I knew this was because they really had no idea of the severity of his condition even though I tried to desperately to explain).

He was hoisted (using a portable hoist) into bed almost immediately and they tried to make him as comfortable as possible. This was about 7pm. I bought him a sandwich in the cafeteria downstairs, as he had had no dinner and was hungry. He is vegetarian and the only sandwiches the ward had was salmon. He stayed there all night unable to sleep because he is unable to move or turn over and he didn’t like to keep bothering the busy nursing staff.

The next morning he was offered breakfast of cornflakes but again, because the staff were so busy, they left the cornflakes balanced on his chest (hoping he'd be able to manage them even though Pete told them he couldn't). By the time a nurse came to help, the cornflakes were soggy and inedible. He asked for some toast but was told there was no toaster. He lay all day in the same position with nothing to do (he cannot hold or turn pages of magazines or newspapers and there was no TV).

He eventually went down for his operation at 3.40pm (twenty-one hours later). After the operation (which was successful) he was taken back to the ward with a new catheter and obvious blood/urine draining into a 2000ml bag.

He asked if he could go home where he would be more comfortable and would receive constant care from me. The doctor was quite hesitant at first, but believed Pete would be looked after properly.

I told the Sister and the nursing staff he would be able to go home. They double checked and said that would be fine. This was around 6.30pm. At this point, Pete was wearing a hospital gown with this 2000ml bag attached to the new catheter.

At around 7.40 (approximately one hour later) nobody had come to help dress him or help get him ready to go home. I went to find somebody to help but all nursing staff were busy. So I had to do everything myself.

I had to disconnect the “2000ml” bag from the catheter and attach a new one (which luckily I had brought from home). I then had to roll him from side to side (remember he weighs 15 stone,) to get his pants and trousers up, put socks and t shirt on.

There was still nobody available to help. I then rolled him again to get the sling behind him preparing him for the hoist.

By this time, because of the amount of times I had rolled him, and was physically exhausted, he was in a dreadful position and needed to be hoisted into the wheelchair as soon as possible.(He was nearly falling off the bed).

I quickly found the ward sister and nurse and explained I needed the hoist because of the predicament he was now in. I was told they were busy and I would have to wait. Fifteen minutes later, I luckily found a male nurse at the desk who thought I was being dealt with. He got the hoist and helped me get Pete into his wheelchair.

We eventually left at 8.45pm.

The nursing staff are always too busy, probably because they are over-worked and under-staffed and have very few aids for the disabled, and very little knowledge, if any at all.

We actually complained to the hospital and received a reply listing all our complaints, and excuses were made, but nothing changes. We are both very placid people who never complain, especially to busy hospitals. I think something needs to change dramatically regarding the care and nursing of disabled people.

Recently, I took Pete to an urgent appointment for the specialist to look at this grade four pressure sore he has. His coccyx could be felt inside it and the bone had started to come away. That's how serious it was. The trouble was they only had a slim trolley "bed" about 2 feet in width.

No sling. No hoist. And we had been waiting an hour and a half! I did warn them that he needed the sling and hoist and he might fall if they got him on the so called "bed" because it was too narrow.

Anyway, they frantically managed to get a sling and hoist and tried to find a "bigger bed" somewhere else in the hospital to no avail. So we were told we might have to go home and come back when they had a bigger "bed" available before they could examine him. Would they have had to send somebody able-bodied home? I was livid to say the least. He shouldn’t even have been sitting on this pressure sore, let alone going home and coming back again.

They ended up chancing the slim "bed" and luckily it was ok. He didn't fall off but could have done I hasten to add.