Back in Kings College Hospital

I'm back at Kings. I got taken here by ambulance (in a bed the whole time) as I've been feeling pretty weak and watery after last night's ordeal, and its hard to walk or move with a catheter in.

It sounds, fingers crossed, like the reason for the whole thing has been found, and with a bit of luck I will end up only being here a couple of days. The current theory is that after transplant surgery there can be rough scars and edges around some of the abdominal organs and tubes. What can happen is that you get temporary adhesion, i.e. two bits that could normally slide smoothly past each other get a little stuck, and this causes a twist or a fold in the intestines. The intestinal muscles respond to this with a massive push, and then go in to spasm. The tension and pain causes nearby muscles to tense completely and makes the whole thing a vicious circle.

That explains why a record-breaking 40ml of morphine did no good at all (not much use against muscle-spasm pain), whereas the weaker painkiller but strong anti-spasmodic Buscopan managed to give me almost instant relief. It also explains why giving me sedation was absolutely the right thing to do as it let my muscles relax. It would seem that my intestines untwisted themselves of their own accord, so now I'm in no pain, but just very tired and drained.

I'm pretty appalled at the Watford General A&E staff. They really were fairly clueless in the face of excruciating pain, and seemed to think that they'd rather not do anything to me to be on the safe side as I'm a post-transplant patient. What that led to was a 5-hour nightmare of epic proportions as I became 'yelling screaming patient' on the A&E ward, and my Dad became 'shouting relative' when the medics repeatedly insisted they could not do anything more, and repeatedly relented far too late and gave me something different.

Anyway, thank goodness I'm back at Kings now. They put my mind at ease straight away and seem very sure of what needs doing. I'm going to be nil-by-mouth and on IV fluids until some time tomorrow (oh dear, had to turn away a ward meal, boo hoo), and hopefully the catheter can come out then too (horrid process, wonderful end-result).

Hopefully in a few days the bruises on Dad and Carole's hands where I was squeezing them insanely hard will heal up, as will the bruises on my legs where I was digging my nails in.

What an insane day. Never again!