A Medical Emergency in Hua Hin

[Big Boy]

Obviously, different ops attract different rates. My wife's knee op last year (1 week in hospital) cost ฿0.5M.

[Big Boy]

Part 4

Warning: Don’t try this at home – it bloody hurts!!!

This is quite a long report, so I have split it up, trip report style.

NB: I have written this report in a light hearted manner. I was in a lot of pain during this process, and I have tried to reflect my emotions as they happened. In reality, I have no complaints whatsoever with any of the treatments I received. In fact, my treatment couldn’t have been better. I’d classify it as brilliant throughout.

The Op Part 1

My wife stayed with me until about 3pm, but then went home. We were only waiting for me to go to the op, and they were expecting me to be in ICU after, where no visitors, or even little helpers are permitted.

So, I sat there with a clean bum, waiting to be collected. I’m watching everybody as they enter and leave the ward. I waited, and waited. Nobody came. About 4:30, a nurse came to see me – my op had been cancelled for today. Trouble getting the high level team together for wrinklies with underlying medical conditions.

Disappointed, I immediately asked for pain relief, and the Morpheme was delivered straight away. Unfortunately, I believe Morpheme is dosed by bodyweight, so I always received a short measure.

I was no longer Nil By Mouth, and the food truck hadn’t arrived yet. Problem was, I now had no little helper to fetch it. I had to go hungry. More importantly, I couldn’t get to water. I had a small window of opportunity until midnight before I went Nil By Mouth again.

An auxiliary came to do my Blood Pressure. I tried to get her to phone home to let them know my op had been cancelled. The only response I got was a giggle. She went back to her workstation where she chatted with another auxiliary. Just as my hopes were raised, they both burst into fits of laughter.

You can imagine my delight when I spotted my daughter walk around the corner. She immediately got me some water, which tasted muddy to me. The Thai size doses of Morpheme were giving 2 hours of relief every 4 hours, so a slight improvement.

The Long Night

There was no way I was going to get any sleep that night. Even with Morpheme, the pain was constantly there, albeit moderated at times. Watching the Little Helper crew through the night was amazing. My daughter had nothing to do in comparison. Whatever those guys were getting paid, it wasn’t enough. Yes, I was in a lot of pain, but my problems were negligible compared to my roommates.

The Nil By Mouth sign returned at about 15 minutes to midnight. I really hoped it happened the next day. It was dependent upon the special wrinklie crew being available at the same time during the day – not easy with no notice at a very busy hospital. The big difference between now and the previous day was I was now receiving a little pain relief, and that continued right up to my op.

I was taken down for my op at 3:50pm (31 hours and 20 minutes after my accident). I was collected by another kamikaze porter. This guy was clearly the craziest so far, and I’m sure they could hear my screams in Petchaburi. I have considered this consistent pain fest, and I have concluded the pain was down to the lack of English communication. Yes, it was never going to be a pain free experience, but with a little warning, I could have anticipated the following action, and maybe braced myself for the pain a little.

Rolling up with an undersized hospital trolley, and dragging me mercilessly across a patslide, and getting me into a safe position could not have been an easy task, and in hindsight, they weren’t that bad, although it didn’t feel that way at the time.

……………………… to be continued.

[buksida]

Somalia ...

I would have got my arse to BKK Hospital in Petchaburi pronto ... at least they wouldn't have laughed while you died of thirst, tried to impact the wound on the gurney, or abandoned you for hours because nobody can speak English. It really does sound like a zoo in that place, and "brilliant throughout" is not how I'd describe it after reading this horror story!

[404cameljockey]

I'm enjoying the debacle BB (even if you didn't). If the Morpheme is body weight dosage you should have had the correct amount unless they didn't weigh you or at least guesstimate!

My wife had appalling treatment in HHH A&E a few years ago during the small hours, and I was barred from entering for a couple of hours (it was COVID time). The doc was fine but the ancillary staff were animals (both arms and both legs were dark bruised pincushions by the time I saw her, two laughing and chatting boys had been trying to find a vein for a drip). A proper nurse was eventually called to administer. My wife had been told by these boys (shouted at actually) that she had to pee in a bucket in the corner of the ice-cold see-through plastic tent set up for admittance at the A&E entrance, given no blanket although she showed them she was very cold, and they would not raise the head end of the trolley although the problem was only a very swollen arm. Uncaring and unthinking and she was very upset indeed (she can't get angry, but I can).

Being a non-Thai speaking farang in HHH A&E is my idea of hell on earth. Even just a couple of years ago the two staff on a general ward who changed her weeping and stuck chest dressings also were cruel harpies, ripping off the old dressing and causing a lot of bleeding, and even walking away afterwards leaving her surgical gown completely open despite the fact that one of her arms was clearly not working. Not the nurses in blue and white, the ones in scrubs. Vicious.

(We went to HHH the first time because it was a medical emergency and we had no opinion of HHH at that time, and the second time because she needed a blood transfusion and HHH was the only place that sourced the rare blood type (with my help).

[404cameljockey]

Somalia ...

I would have got my arse to BKK Hospital in Petchaburi pronto ... at least they wouldn't have laughed while you died of thirst, tried to impact the wound on the gurney, or abandoned you for hours because nobody can speak English. It really does sound like a zoo in that place, and "brilliant throughout" is not how I'd describe it after reading this horror story!

BB is the most ardent supporter of HHH you'll find. The medical care seems very good to me, but as for the rest of it ....

[Big Boy]

Somalia ...

I would have got my arse to BKK Hospital in Petchaburi pronto ... at least they wouldn't have laughed while you died of thirst, tried to impact the wound on the gurney, or abandoned you for hours because nobody can speak English. It really does sound like a zoo in that place, and "brilliant throughout" is not how I'd describe it after reading this horror story!

TIT - it happens everywhere. I've shared privately some of the horror stories I've personally experienced at the 'better' hositals. They're as bad as each other.

[404cameljockey]

Somalia ...

I would have got my arse to BKK Hospital in Petchaburi pronto ... at least they wouldn't have laughed while you died of thirst, tried to impact the wound on the gurney, or abandoned you for hours because nobody can speak English. It really does sound like a zoo in that place, and "brilliant throughout" is not how I'd describe it after reading this horror story!

TIT - it happens everywhere. I've shared privately some of the horror stories I've personally experienced at the 'better' hositals. They're as bad as each other.

At least at the 'better' hospitals you can usually make yourself understood by most staff, which is pretty key when you have a medical problem.

[Big Boy]

Somalia ...

I would have got my arse to BKK Hospital in Petchaburi pronto ... at least they wouldn't have laughed while you died of thirst, tried to impact the wound on the gurney, or abandoned you for hours because nobody can speak English. It really does sound like a zoo in that place, and "brilliant throughout" is not how I'd describe it after reading this horror story!

BB is the most ardent supporter of HHH you'll find. The medical care seems very good to me, but as for the rest of it ....

Maybe I find it acceptable because of the excellent family network I have supporting me.

[buksida]

You would think basic school-grade English would be a requisite for employment at a hospital in a major tourist destination where a percentage of patients will be foreigners ... oh, wait a minute, its a government hospital so maybe not - patient care clearly isn't required in this cattle shed!

[Big Boy]

Having family in the trade here, I can assure you, higher than basic school-grade English is a requisite.

However, TIT, who are the teachers/examiners? My eldest Granddaughter qualified as the 2nd best nurse in year. One of the criterion was English proficeny. Her English is probly on a par with my Thai.

[Martinoo]

The doctors in government hospitals especially in tourist or high expat numbers area's speak English, not as good as at private hospitals, but who cares. Most of them work PT in private hospitals and even cross regional.
All fresh graduate doctors have to work in government hospital either as trainee or as GP practitioners. Sometimes they will join specialists as their assistants.
Not all GP or trainee GP speak good English and that more or less decided on their career... GP governmental hospitals or specialists in government or private hospitals.
The newer batches of graduates do speak English from sometimes basic school but definitely from Bilingual or International Universities with international baccalaureates.
Specialists and Surgeons all speak English to sometimes a very good level.... but you need to want to understand them too..
I find that in most conversations between the two nationalities there is often a lack of wanting to understand the other parties...not listening carefully to start with...

[Big Boy]

Part 5

Warning: Don’t try this at home – it bloody hurts!!!

This is quite a long report, so I have split it up, trip report style.

NB: I have written this report in a light hearted manner. I was in a lot of pain during this process, and I have tried to reflect my emotions as they happened. In reality, I have no complaints whatsoever with any of the treatments I received. In fact, my treatment couldn’t have been better. I’d classify it as brilliant throughout.

Anesthetic Room/Op Part 2

Of all the parts in the jigsaw to making me right again, this was clearly the most influential. An experience I’ll never ever forget.

The first thing I couldn’t really see the where point of was access to the Anesthetic Room. I’d seen this during previous visits, and often wondered how it worked. Basically, there is a mini wall built outside of the Anesthetic Room entrance. How were they going to get my trolley over the wall? They weren’t. An empty trolly was waiting one side of the wall, and my trolley pulled up adjacently, the other side of the wall. Out came a patslide, and I was unceremoniously dumped from one trolley to the next. I can only assume this was to keep dirty trolley wheels outside of a very clean area. I don’t think I’ve used so much bad language since working at Devonport Dockyard.

I’m basically still reeling in pain from my 2nd major trauma in 5 minutes. I think within 2 minutes of entering the area, I’d been stripped naked (sorry too much information), and had been re-dressed in operation attire. I was then dumped in this massive empty room to await my fate.

On the other side of a huge glass wall there was a mass of young girls having a really good time. All smiling and laughing, whilst getting on with their work, which would be me. They certainly weren’t bothered, and their confidence was infectious .

The actual anesthetist then came out to have a chat, and explain the procedure – another pretty little thing. This was just getting better. She said I would be receiving an epidural, and I confirmed it wasn’t my first.

A couple of minutes later, I was wheeled into the Anesthetic Room where the other young girls got to work on me. They had to sit me a long way forward, and there were 3 young girls either side of me holding me forward whilst the anesthetist started poking her needle into my spine.

Yes, for the first time in 2 days, I was pain free. What a wonderful feeling. After that, it all goes a bit hazy. I think I was moved to another table. The idea was I’d be awake through the entire procedure, but you must remember it was a couple of days since I’d slept. They covered my head with a towel, and pain free me just became part of the anesthetic girls’ good time. I was part of their party, and I was loving it.

The next thing I remember is somebody lifting the towel to see my face. I remember now giving the guy a big smile and a thumbs up. It turns out it was the surgeon.

Waking up after the op (don’t forget, I shouldn’t have been asleep in the first place) was probably the strangest experience of my life.

I was in a huge empty room, and all that I could hear was alarms going off. Throughout the room there was a voice repeatedly laughing and saying Mr. Neal couldn’t go home. Of course, I’d had an epidural, so I couldn’t move. Inside my head I was tied up. This just kept on going, and I was becoming quite scared. I’d lost all memory of having been there for an operation. I was simply trapped in a huge empty room with the alarms sounding and the voice still repeating Mr. Neal couldn’t go home.

Gradually, (inside my head, I presume) I managed to loosen the cuffs on my hands, but now the kamikaze porter entered the ‘dream’. He bundled me onto his trolley, and took me on a magical mystery tour through corridors I didn’t recognize. I’m starting to wonder if I’d died.

Then we ended up in a lift, which stopped at the magical 7th floor. Things were now starting to look a little familiar. We were back on the ward, and I could see my daughter waiting in the corner. I was pat-slided into bed, and things gradually returned to normal.

I’ve never tried recreational drugs, but I can only imagine what I experienced resembled a very bad trip from the 80’s.

The good news is, there was no need for an ICU referral.

At about 9pm on the day of the operation, a porter took me down to x-ray for post operation images. I’m delighted to say this was my final painful porter experience, although, I had to be transported by them several times afterwards. The x-ray crew continued to be smiling assassins as they made me perform yet another contortionist show for them.

Once I was returned to my bed, to the time of writing this, pain from my injury has not bothered me since.

The actual operation cost a very reasonable (in my opinion) 30,326฿.

……………………… to be continued.

[Martinoo]

where was your wife all the time??

[Big Boy]

My wife is quite ill, and most certainly not strong enough to take of me. She did make several visits during my stay in hospital. Some visits were for very extended periods.

[404cameljockey]

I'm on my third bucket of popcorn. May I add a short supporting feature film?

My question: were you catheterised after your epidural? For a knee meniscus repair op I had the spinal injection which paralyzes you from the waist down. After the op my legs didn't work at all for many nighttime hours, and during the night sensation started slowly to return from the waist down. This meant that I felt my bladder just about bursting before the sphincter at the bottom started to work, so I needed to pee but couldn't, total 2am agony (not a word I overuse).

I finally managed to get a cute and tiny nurse to insert a catheter, starting a flow worthy of blissful tears. I passed over a litre of pee with her holding my gentleman's sausage in her delicate fingers, that's an insane amount (so I probably was just about to burst or at least rupture my bladder). My jokes with the pretty nurse were that this must certainly be the highlight of her week, and that I was very sad because I still had no feeling in the appendage she was ministering to so nicely and so couldn't take pleasure in the act (I wasn't being offensive, honestly I have a knack).

Why they didn't cathererise me during the op still mystifies me. Note for BB: it was Bangkok Hospital (otherwise a totally impressive op and hospital stay, the doc chattily walked me through the op and I was watching inside my knee on a wide screen beside the operating table.).